The herald., 1895-04-01
STAYED BY
HIS OLD MOTHER TILL
THE END


while tho back door opened into a cellar
dug out of the solid earth.
The only occupants OF this cheerless
place which ono would be loath to call a
home, were q widow and her son. The
icy hand of death had already begun to
caress the mother. The sharp, dry cough
that racked her shadowy form told too
plainly the story of her suffering.
Tho sunset light was still Illuminating
the western sky and shedding its brilliant
reflection on tho waters of the Missouri as
John Millar walked slowly across the
prairie toward the bluff where his moth
or house clung to the dark soil like gray
lichen to a rock The sight that met his
eyes was ono that would have discouraged
strong man. The fall wind had blown
the dried leaves from the cottonwood trees
hither and thither; the tumbloweeds rolled
over and over, chasing each other in end
tess journeys back and forth across tho
lonesome stretch of land. A few half
1ledged chickens had already gone to roost
on the wood pile near the door. On a line
stretched between two posts hung few
patched garments tapping in the wind
.5 John was 16 years old. Since he could
remember everything had looked as it
looked now He could not recall time
when his mother had not coughed or when
the house had not looked as If a family
had just moved out His father had gone
west with his wife and baby when John
was less than year old. and the house
that stood on the side hill now was tho
one that hardy Jacob Millar had built
with his own hands-built, hoping and
expecting that before five years were over
he would own thriving we'll equipped
farm. A half broken colt that he was rid
ing to the village plunged, reared and
threw him to the ground, then bounded
riderless across the trackless prairie.
When they found Jacob Millar he was
dead, and the frail woman who had come
to share her husbands lot in this distant
land had no choice but to remain. Their
original claim was rented to neighbors,
and the little income therefrom kept the
mother and child from absolute starva-
.tion.
Since Johns eighth birthday he had at
tended the village school, and now as he
was walking slowly home he was thinking
over and over the words that had just been
said to him by the head of an engineering
party that was surveying a railroad
through the country, and whose work he
had stopped to watch. The opportunity
he had longed for had come. He need not
spend his life in that miserable dugout
him. He could have work with the sur
veyors. Four of their men were down
with chils, and they needed help. He
could leave this cheerless scene. He could
be part of the great human pulse which
he felt beating against the arteries of the
world, and which he now thought himself
to be separated from.
Why did ho walk SO slowly? Why was
his head bent on his breast his stop like
the step of one oppressed by the weight of
years? 1t was the vision before his mind
of thin, wan face of an emaciated body,
of two large brown eyes dulled by suffer
ing, of bent shoulders and languid step.
Could he leave her? Leave her alone in
that desolate place while he went out alone
to earn money to buy her luxuries that
would make her life more comforta BILE?
Was that why he wished to accept the en-
eineer's offer and loayo this scene behind
him? Was it for her, or was it that he
was hungry for tho world which he had
4 never seen, but which he knew existed?
AS he walked toward the house the door
opened, and thin little figure moved out
into the sunset light. She lifted her hand
to shade her eyes and looked anxiously at
him as he approached.
John did not have it in his heart to tell
her what was on his mind, but with q
womans intuition and a mothers quick
perception she read Instantly that some
thing unusual had occurred. With the
tact of her sex she said nothing of what
the boys face so plainly told her, and to-
gether they entered their home.
Mrs. Millar made an effort toward pre-
pairing supper, but a paroxysm of cough
ing seized her, and she was obliged to lie
down. The boy took a candle and disap-
~
potatoes and bacon which served for their
evening meal.
Scarcely word was spoken Should
, he tell her? Could he leave her? What
would she say? He had never been more
than ten miles from the village. The
thought that this was the opportunity of
his life made every fiber of his being vi
brate with the intensity of his desire to
go. Night came on, and he climbed the
ladder and threw himself, dressed as he
was, upon his straw mattress and with
9 wide open eyes that saw nothing of his
surroundings he turned tho question over
and over in his mind Ambition, desire,
curiosity, love of adventure, all said go.
Love for the frail little woman who lay
tossing restlessly on her bed in the room
below held him back. What was the use
of two being wretched here? If he were
gone, bue llGule money WOulu go Iurtn9S
for her. But then came the other thought
she was his mother and he loved her
and with tear that his maniness strove
to hide even from himself he resolved that
come what might his lot should be cast
with hers
One who has not seen prairie fire can
form no conception of it, but, on the 9th
er hand, having seen one, the memory can
never be effaced.
John Millar started in his sleep; he
opened his eyes in alarm. Was the sun
set light still lingering in the heavens?
Indeed, no. The situation flashed on him
instantly, and hastily descending to tho
door he saw that the demon of the prairie
was coming ON with lightning speed
There was safety in the river. Could they
reach it? In another moment he had
caught his mother in his arms, and bare
? headed he rushed out into the night He
could hear the roar of the oncoming, all
devouring fury. The burden in his arms,
light as it was, proved almost too much
for his boyi5h strength, but the fire of de-
termination was in his eye, and he rushed
forward. The soft, springy soil gave way
under his feet, Tho air was heavy with
smoke Still he pressed on. He saw moth
ing, bnt the broad Missouri and it's sandy
banks were almost reached With opo