The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1896-08-04

saved-Sunrise Peaks WHAT does it
all mean anyway"
DO you not remembers" she asked.
He looks at her intently for a mo
ment, and his mental vision c more
becomes clear.
"Ah!-yes. I remember now" he
says" I pulled you from over the
mountain side"
Yes; you saved my life," she an
swered.
perhaps" he said,
Then, as if for the first time remen
boring his encounter with the noun
Calre9r, he looks around, and not see
ing him, asks:
But where is he"-
And then he pauses.
y } mean my father2"
Yes, yes-the fellow that tried to
kill me" he where is he?'
Hes gone to the spring for water, "
she said he'll be back in a moment.
All! Here.he comes now"
The artist rises to his feet just as the
m~ountaineer came up. Mt knowing
what had tr~anspired between daugh
ter and father during his unconscious
ness, he hardly knew whether to run
or stand his ground; but a glance at
the smiling countenance Of the old gen
tleman put to fight his fears Of fur
Their trouble from that source
Extending his hand, he loosely
asked:
peace or War-Which8"
"Peec D.! stranger-peace!' is the re
ply of the m~ountaineer, grasping the
artists hand and pressing it warmly. Il
am glad to see you on your feet once
more, and hopeyo will pardon a blum
dering old idiot fer his recent rash 0
duet Hearing a pistol shot, ard know
ing that my daughter was up here
wnere she often ome to see the sun
rise-I hassened up at once, and seeing
her lying there on the ground, appar-
emily dead, 1 thought you had killed
her and instead, she informed me that
you had just saved her from a horrible
d9ath,"
Yes" ans 4ered the artist, lightly, 81
had that honor"
Stranger, you have placed my little
girl and myself under obligations to
you that we can never repay.
How can I ever thank you?' asked
the maiden, in a voice SO soft and sweet
that no music that he had ever heard
could compare with it.
by simply thinking nc more about
it, LITTLE friend" was his gallant reply.
But 1 cannot help thinking about
it" she answered. How can l? Ishall
think Of it every day as long as l
live"
You do not understand me-" he
said. OF course you cannot help
thinking, but what l m9an to say Is,
that you mustn't feel yourself under OBJ
legations to me for what l did, as any
one else would have rendered you the
Same service u0der similar clrcum
stances"
BE that Gs it may, stranger" voluu
teers the mountaIneer, out tina does
not alter the case. The circum
stances remain the same. We are IN
der deep obligations to you, and moth
ing that you may say will convince US
to the contrary. Hoy, daughter?"
My father speaks truthtully," she
replies.
The artist bows his thanks.
But, from whence came the shot
that brought me TO the Peak? p asked the
mcuataineer. Ny grille knows moth
ing whatever about 1T. Can you tell
u5, stranger?'
II can" replied the artist 1t was I
that freed the shot"
Both father and daughter regard him
questioningly.
He then tells them of how he had
found the maiden quietly sleeping on
the verge of the precipice, all uncon-
scious of the deadly reptile that lay
coiled in her lap; the way in which he
had killed the snake, and then how
the suddenly awakened and frightened
girl had fallen over the the mountain
side.
1t is impossible to depict the varied
expressions OF mingled horror, amaze
ment and gratitude that alternately
Transformed the features of the listen
ers during this recital, and when he
had finished, their eyes, rather than
their lips, spoke their undying graft
tnde and heartfelt thanks. The noun.