The San Francisco call., 1896-09-13

showed now and then. With hurried pace
they sought the spot where the horses
were to be.
Alas! ales! Tears came into the girls
eyes-tears of anger-and she could have
quartered that derelict half breed. Only
he wasn't there. A dying fire and bunch
of white horsehair on a bush showed
where he had been.
The guide looked with pity. 'Now,
that's too bad You're all tagged out,
and it's ten miles fits a yard to the nearest
house." The girl laughed. 1t is much
better to laugh than to cry. "We1l have
to put one foot before the other till we get
bravely than she felt. "lfs on solid
ground and that's comfort"
One foot was tired and so was the other,
aud it was hard work to put one before
the other. 1t was best to m owe quickly to
keep warm in wet clothes. They dried in
few miles, never causing the least chill.
have often wondered if the girl could
have crossed any more hills. The road
was level or nearly so, winding about
among the hills. Sunset came. The guide
brought out all his knowledge of wood
craft to cheer her, telling wondrous tales
of birds, beasts and trees. The girl
wouldn't talk. The twilight faded into
dusk and the moon came out. There were
stealthy steps in the leafy gloom, wings
.tiuttered as they brushed the trees, and
the streams sang louder and clearer in the
black ravine. The pace was dull plod
now, steady springless tread. The girl
walked behind too tired to even think.
1t was simply a question of physical en-
durance.
The guide looked at his watch. It's 10
O'clock" he cried, land here's Browns
brush fence" The brush fence was a Tar
tar. They couldn't find the bars and in
desperation they squeezed and clambered
through 1T with new strength, given by
the nearnesS of rest. In the dImness was
a house. Before the house was restless
shadow moving up and down. They
didn't stop. The shadow n,aterialized
into Mr.. Brown. He was surprised to see
them and sorry to send them on, but there
were seven people at the house that night
and only three beds. / wonder if poor Mr..
Brown wanders spirit-like in the moon
shine many nights in the year when Mrs.
Brown has company. Why couldn't she
fix him at least bed on the floor? Mr..
Brown has my sympathy. I'm afraid he
didn't have the girls.
1t was just one mile to the doctors,
where the guide knew there was
welcome. That mile took the girl just
one hour. Every step was harder. The
doctor seemed to think it most natural to
be wakened at IL o'clock by wandering
couple. The girl would have nothing to
eat or drink. She wanted a bed. The |
surance that she never could rise in the |
morning. The girl didn't care whether |
she ever rose. Her head touched the pill
low and then-oblivion.
In the morning the girl woke and real j
lied. She moved one foot to see if she
could; then one arm, then she sat up dis |
gusted. After all that fatigue she could |
not be interesting. She could get up and |
walk. I'm thinking the girl must have |
been made of very common clay.
Since she was able she thought best to |
ride the ten miles to the school, on the |
same white horse whose tail had left a |
token on the bush. The haifbreed was OF, |
hand, full of excuses. at was so cold he |
feared to stay on the trail longer" Cold I! |
And the girl carried her jacket every step |
of the way.
The guide was left behind at the doc.
tors to go home alone. He would send |
the girls trunk by the first mule train in |
June. He hoped she wouldn't get sick |
from the trip.
She didn't.
Long after, when the snow was gone and
the trail was dusty, the girl travelled it
again, on the back of trusty mule. The
trip was easier far, but the romance was
taken out. She would not like to walk it
again, but that unconventional stroll of
thirty three miles is not the least pleasant
OF her memories. OLIVE HEYDEN.