News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1890-07-10
A LITTLE MAVERICK.

|
Washington Post.
A LITTLE MAVERICK.
All that hot August day there had
been cloud of dust in the east like g
column of smoke No breath of all
stirred it, nor did it seem to advance 6
yard. The sky was steely blue, the
air quivered like the white heat from 8
cauldron of molten metal In the
crisp and dry buffalo grass myriad in
sect life gave to the simmering air 9
dreamy, monotonous sound like the
humming of far away bees.
The afternoon passed, darkness gath
cred and with the rising moon came q
cool wind from off the snow crested
peaks The cloud of dust subsided
and revealed line of moving, white
covered wagons.
As the caravan drew near a gaunt
prairie wolf rose suddenly out of the
grass, gave a long, dolOrous howl and
| fled across the plain. After him, as il
they had risen from the earth by magic,
went a pony and rider, bronzed, griz-
zled old man, as gaunt and evidently
| dreading the new corners as much as
! the wolf
The caravan, numbering thirty wag-
ons, went into camp in the form of a
hollow square, the people and animals
inside the barrier of wagons. The
sound of voices, the smell of cooking,
the laughter of children and the red
glow of the camp fires made a bit of
welcome life in the solemn land, break
ing the soundless monotony of centu-
ries.
Later, when the fires were low and
when the only noises were the champ
ing of the animals and the tread of the
sentry on watch, a strange, elfish figure
ran out of the stockade and began to
dance in the moonlight girl of II or
thereabouts, with big, sparkling eyes
and short, black curls flying over her
pretty brow. A bearded face was
thrust out under a wagon cover and q
grutf but not unl1indly voice called:
''Come in, you Maverick Want In
juns to git ye?'
The child laughed mockingly and
continued her dance. After the third
call the big man jumped out of the
wagon and ran after her When she
could run nc lonaGr she dropped like
log, remaining sti9f and still, while he
carried her to the wagon.
Gritty, amt she, marmI' he said.
The lady addressed was tall, thin
person with a wrinkled face, sharp
black eyes behind spectales, corkscrew
curls, and habit of wearing little
shoulder capes in the hottest weather.
She was a New England school teacher
going west to better herself.
Gritty is western, | presume, MIR.
Chase" said the lady, Miss Mary Ann
Reed. ''What on earth do you call
her Maverick forp' Miss Reed clicked
her needles viciously. She knitted all
day, jolting in a corner of the wagon,
picture of martyrdom.
I'm my kentry, Texas" said Chase,
''they calls them stray cattle that don't
git branded Mavericks; they don't
b'long to no herd, an them that finds
gifts 'em."
'She's got folks in Denver" said
Miss Reed.
81 Dunno" whispered the man, with
an anxious look toward the sleeping
child. "a feller that met me two days
ago on the east bound wagon train told
me her pa and ma had died suddenly,
an the children had scattered, an he'd
never heered O Janet at all. Her gram
marin he'd KEEP her from baby, an
the old lady dyin', Janet's uncle jest
shipped her off TO Denver, where heI
folks was livin' Don't seem nobody to
take hel"
"Why didn't you send her back with
those folksl" asked Miss Reed.
"'Cause they was only harf way, an
was short for grub; they wouldn't take
her."
Yet the Maverick was a great pet on
the Journey Every one liked her and
welcomed her bright presence to the
wagons Around the camp fires even
the men gathered to hear her sing the
quaint old hymns her grandmother hao
taught her. She held tired babies til
her little arms were numb, she tolo
stories to weary children and was 8
ministering angel at every wagon-a1
the last one in the train most of all.
This wagon had joined the train il
Missouri, and belonged to an unfortu
nate family that Chase called ''Pikes.
The father, sullen, sickly man, drove
the four lean oxen; the mother, hal
dead from malaria, seldom lifted hel
head from her bed; and the nine chill
dren, practically orphans, took care O
themselves and of a little, motherles
girl, sent out with this family to he
father in Denver.
This baby, Rose, was a merry littl'
creature of 3, beautiful and winnin:
and much liked. But the days wer
toilsome ones. and as the Browns haC
charge of her no one interfered, though
many of the party wondered who coul'
have trusted her with them.
The two youngest Browns, homely
faded little souls, were faithful guard
ians over her. The other childrel
were unruly and rude, but these tw'
seemed like some good old folks VIII
had lived out well rounded lives AM
been translated back to earth to begil
over again.
To these children Janet's presenc
was the one happiness of their day, no
could she tell stories enough to satlsf
them. Once Janet, coming uno
heard the youngest Pike telling bah
Rose, who was cross, one of her ow
stories.
"You sorrerful little things" erie
Janet, cant you make 'em up YOU
selves of your own"
For week at night the sentry at I'll
stoc1ade saw far off, black, movln
specks on the horizon, and weary an
anxious were the hours of darkness
early the start, eager the hope to get o
without the attack. Each man woul
) mutter in the gray dawn, as haggar
and white he harnessed his team
'Thank God, another night of peace
no Indians yetv'