Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1894-07-11
THE SAND HILLS.

up to me Railways I've been in wan,
wild double an twist in the rope tc
pull me out, but suckin sand in the
open plain--aw, trader, aw, the like O.
that, no, niver bit, awr' So said
Macavoy, the giant, when the thing
was discussed i'll his presence.
"Well, I tell you it's true, and
they're not three miles from Fort
O'Glory. The company's men don't
talk about it-what's the use? Travel
ers are few that way, and you can't get
the Indians within miles of them. Pret-
ty Pierre knows all about them, better
than any one else, almost. He'll stand
by me in Itch, Pierre?" Pierre took
no notice and was silent for time, in
tent on his cigarette, and in the pause
Mowley, the trapper, said: "Pierre's gone
back on you, trader. Perhaps you
haven't paid him for the last ie &c
one better, you stand by me-my treat
that's the gamen'
CAV, the like O. that" added Mac
avoy reproachfully. cav, yer tongue to
the roof O. your mouth, Mowley! Liars
all men may be, but that's wild wimmin
Or landlords. But, Pierre, off another
mans bat like that-aw, Mowley, fill
your mouth wild the bowl O. yer pipep'
Pierre now looked up at the three
men, rolling another cigarette as he did
SO, but he seemed to be thinking of a
distant matter Meeting the three pairs
Of eyes fixed on him, his own held them
for moment musingly. Then he lit his
cigarette, and half reclining on the
bench where he sat he began to speak,
talking into the fire, as it We're:
81 was at Guidon Hill, at the COM
pany's post there Tt was the fall of the
year, when you feel that there is moth
ing so good as life and the air drinks
like Wine You think that sounds like
woman or priest? Mais, no! The
seasons are strange. In the spring I am
lazy and sad; in the fall am gay; am
for the big things to do. This matter
was in the fall l felt that must move.
Yet what to do? There was the thing.
Cards? OF course. But that's only for
like wild dog on a chain. had a good
horse, Tophet, black as coal, all raw
bones and joint and reach like
moose. His legs worked like piston rods.
But, as I said, I did not know where to
go or what to do. So we used to sit at
the post loafing, in the daytime watch
ing the plains all painting for travellers,
like a young bride waiting her husband
for the first time. -
Macavoy regarded Pierre with rich
delight. He had an unctuous spirit, and
his heart was soft for women, so soft
that he never had one on his conscience,
though he had brushed gay smiles off
the lips of many with his own. But
that was an amiable weakness i'll
strong man. "Aw, Pierre" he said
coaxingly, "kape it down, aisy, aisy;
me hearts goin like a triphammer at
thought av it. Aw, yis; aw, yis, Pierre. "
"Well, it was like that to me-all
sun and a sweet sting i'll the air, at
night to sit and tell tales and such
things, and perhaps little brown
brandy, a look at the stars, a half hour
with the cattle-the same old game.
Of course there was the wife of Hilton,
the factor-fne, always fine to see, but
deaf and dumb. We were good friends,
Ida and me. had hand i'll her we'd
ding. Holy, I knew her when she was
little girl! We could talk together by
signs. She was a good woman-she had
never guessed at evil She was quick,
too like flash, to read and understand
without words. A face was a book to
her
Every good! One afternoon we were
all standing outside the post when we
saw some one ride over the Long Divide.
1t was good for the eyes, I cannot tell
quite how. But horse and rider were
so sharp and clear cut against the sky
that they looked very large and peculiar
there was something in the air to
magnify. They paused for moment
Oh the top Of the divide, and it seemed
like messenger out of the strange
country at the farthest north, the place
of legends. But of course it was only a
traveller like ourselves, for in half
hour she was with us.
Eyes, it was girl dressed as man.
She did not try to hide it. She had
dressed so for ease She would make
mans heart leap in his mouth-if he
was like Macavoy or the pious Mowley
there"
Pierre's last three words had touch
Of irony, for he knew that the trapper
had precious tongue for Scripture
when missionary passed that way
and bad name with women to give it
point. Mowley smiled sourly, but Mac
avoy laughed outright and smaclzed his
lips on his pipe stem luxuriously.
Jaw, now, Pierre-all me little fail
in's-aw" he said. Pierre swung round
on the bench, leaning upon the other
elbow, and cherishing his cigarette
presently continued:
''She had come far and was tired to
death, so stiff that she could hardly get
from her horse, and the horse, too, was
ready to drop. Handsome enough she
looked, for all that, in mans clothes and
peaked cap, with pistol in her belt.
She wasn't big built-just a feathery
kind of sapling-but she was set fair
on her legs like man, and a hand that
was as good as I have seen, SO strong
and fine, and like silk and iron with a
horse. Well, what was the trouble, for
I saw that there was trouble? Her eyes
had hunted look, and her nose breath
ed like a deer's in the chase All at
once, when she saw Hilton's wife, a cry
came from her, and she reached out heg
hands.
'fWhat would women of that sort do:
They were both of kind. They got
into each others arms. After that there
was nothing for us men but to wait.
All women are the same, and Hilton's
wife was like the rest. She must get
the secret first; then the men should
know We had to wait an hour. Then
Hilton's wife beckoned to US. We went
inside. The girl was asleep. There was
something in the touch Of Hilton's wife
like sleep itself, like music. 1t was her
voice, that touch She could not speak
with her tongue, but her hands and face
were language and music Bien, there
was the girl asleep, all clear of dust and
stain, and that fine hand. 1t lay loose
On her breast, SO quiet, SO quiet. En-
fin tho roa1 ctoru for how cha Law there