Evening capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1888-1893, 1893-02-13
THE CIPHER.

Talton was staying his horse by
spring at Guidon hill when he first
saw her. She was gathering May
apples; her apron was full of them.
He noticed that she did not stir until
he rode almost upon her. Then she
started, first without looking round,
rs does an animal, dropping her
head slightly to one side, though not
quite appearing to listen. Suddenly
she wheeled swiftly on him, and
her big eyes captured him. The
look bewildered him. She was |,
creature of singular fascination. Her
face flooded with expression. Her
eyes kept throwing light. She looked
happy, yet grave withal; it was the
gravity Of an uncommon earnest
ness. She gazed through everything
and beyond. She was young-eight-
cen or SO.
Talton raised his hat and courteous
ly called good morning to her. She
did not reply by any word, but nod
ded quantity and blinked seriously,
and yet blithely, on him. He was
preparing to dismount. AS he did so
he paused, astonished that she did
not speak at ALL Her face did not
have familiar language-its vocab-
ulary was its own. He slid from his
horse, and, throwing his arm over its
neck as it sto - d to the spring,
looked at her more intently, but re-
spectfully too. She did not yet stir,
but there came into her face a slight
infection of confusion or perplexity.
Again he raised his hat to her, and,
smiling, wished her a good morning.
Even as he did so thought sprang
IN him. Understanding gave place
to wonder. He interpreted the un-
usual look in her face.
Instantly he made sign to her.
To that her face responded with a
wonderful speech-of relief and rec
ognition. The corners of her apron
dropped from her fingers and the
yellow May apples fell about her
feet. She did not notice this. She
answered his sign with another,
rapid, graceful and meaning. He
left his horse and advanced to her,
holding out his hand simply, for he
was a simple and honest man. Her
response to this was spontaneous.
The warmth of her fingers invaded
him. Her eyes were full of question
ings. He gave a Hearty sign of ad-
miration. She flushed with pleas
ure, but made a naive. protesting
gesture. She was deaf and dumb.
Talton had once q sister who was
mute. He knew that amazing primal
gesture language of this silent race
whom God has blown like one winged
birds into the world. He had watched
on his sister just such looks of abso-
lutte nature as flashed from this girl.
They were comrades on the instant;
he, reverential, gentle, protective;
she, sanguine. candid, beautifully
aboriginal in the freshness of her
cipher thoughts She saw the world
naked with a naked eye. She was
utterly natural. She was the maker
of exquisite, vital gesture speech.
She glided out from among the
May apples and the long silken grass
to charm his horse with her hand.
AS she started to do so he fastened
to prevent her, but utterly surprised
he saw the horse whinny to her cheek
and arch his neck under her white
palm-it was very white. Then the
animals chin sought her shoulder
and staid placid. 1t had never done
so to any one before save Talton.
Once indeed it had kicked a stable
man to death. 1t lifted its head and
caught with playful, shaking lips at
her ear. Talton smiled, and so, as
we said, their comradeship began.
He was a new officer of the Hudson
Bay company at Fort Guidon. She
was the daughter of a ranchman.
She had been educated by Father
Corraine. the Jesuit missionary,
Protestant though she was. He had
learned the sign language while as
sistant priest in a Partisan chapel for
mutes. He taught her this gesture
tongue, which she, taking, rendered
divine, and with this she learned to
read and write.
Her name was Ida.
Ida was faultless. Talton was not;
but no man is. To her. however, he
was the best that man can be. He
was unselfish and altogether honest,
and that is much for man not
saint.
When Pierre came to know of their
he shook his head doubt
fully. One day he was sitting on the
hot side of a pine near his mountain
hut, soaking the sun. He saw them
passing below him along the edge of
the hill across the ravine. He said
to some one behind him in the shade,
who was looking also. What will be
the end of that, chr"
And the some one replied, Faith,
what the serpent in the wilderness
couldn't cure