Daily Yellowstone journal., 1890-07-19
A LITTLE MAVERICK.

All that hot August day there had
been a cloud Of dust in the east like a
column of smoke. No breath of air
stirred il, nor did il seem To advance a
yard. The sky was a steely blue, the
air quivered like the white heat from a
cauldron of molten metal. In the
crisp and dry buffalo grass myriad in
sect life gave to the simmering air a
dreamy, monotonous sound like the
humming of far away bees.
The afternoon passed, darkness gath
cred and with the rising came a
cool wind from off the snow crested
peaks. The cloud of dust subsidized
and revealed a 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 ri ler, a bronzed, griz-
zled old man. as eaunt and evidently
dreading the new corners Is much as
the wolf.
The caravan, numbering thirty wag-
ons, went into lamp 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
a out of the stockade and began to
dance in the moonlight-a girl Of 12 or
Whereabouts, with big, sparkling eyes
and short, black curis flying over her
pretty brow. A bearded face was
thrust out under a wagon cover and a
gruff but not unkindly voice called:
Come in, you Maverick. Want In
tuns to git YER
The child laughed m~ockingly and
continued her dance. After the third
call the big man jumped out of the
wagon and ran after her. When she
could run no longer she dropped like a
log, remaining stiff and still, while he
carried her to the wagon.
Gritty, amt she, mamT' he said.
The lady addressed was a tall, thin
person with a wrinkled face, sharp
black eyes behind spectales, corkscrew
curls, and a 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, Mr..
Chase, said the lady, Miss Mary Ann
Reed. What on earth do you call
her Maverick forl' Miss Reed clicked
her needles viciously. She knitted all
day, jolting in a corner of the wagon,
o picture OF martyrdoin.
In my kentry. Texas" said Chase,
they calls them stray cattle that don't
git branded Mavericks; they don't
blong to no herd, an them that finds
gifts EN-"
Shes got folks in Denver" said
Miss Reed.
Il dunno" whispered the man, with
an anxious look toward the sleeping
child. "A Teller that met Inc 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 a baby, an
the old lady dyin', Janet's uncle jest
shipped her of to Denver, where her
folks was Twin. Don't seem nobodyto
take hei."
why didn't you send her back with
those folksf' asked Miss Reed.
Cause they wa 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 had