The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1897-01-02

the mountains alone can give their lonely
or perturbed children. It seemed to hel
that nature was never the same on the
great plains where men and cities always
loomed into such ridiculous proportions
When the Great Mother raised herself t.
comfort them with smiling hillsides or en-
compassed them and drew them close in
the loving arms of mountains The Ions
white canada stretched before her in Z
purity that did not seem of the earth; the
vague bulk Of the mountains rose on either
side Of her in mystery that was not oi
this life. Yet it was not oppressive; neither
was its restfulness and quite suggestive Of
obhvionsness and slumber; on the contrary
the highly rarefed air seemed to give ad
ditional keenness to her senses; her hear.
ing had become singularly acute; her eye
sight pierced the uttermost extremity Of
the gorge, lit by the full moon that oc-
casionally shone through slowly drifting
clouds Her nerves thrilled with a de-
licious sense of freedom and strange de.
sire to run or climb. 1t seemed to her, III
her exalted fancy, that these solitudes should
be peopled only by a kingly race, and not
by such gross and material churls as this
mountaineer who helped them. And,
grieye to say--writing of sentimentalist
that was and heroine that is 10 be-she
was getting outrageously hungry.
There were few biscuits in her travel
ing bag, and she remembered that she had
been presented with a small jar of Cali
fornia honey at San Jose. These she took
out and opened on the seat before her, and
spreading the honey on the biscuit, ate
them with keen schoolgirl relish and a
pleasant suggestion of sylvan picnic, in
spite of the cold 1t was all very strange;
quite an experience for her to speak Of
afterward People would hardly believe
that she had spent an hour or two, all
alone, in deserted wagon in mountain
snow pass. 1t was an adventure such as
one reads of in the magazines. Only
something was lacking which the maya
zines always supplied-something heroic
something done by somebody. IF that
awful looking mountaineer-that man with
the long hair and mustache-and that hor-
rible gold ring-why such a ring?-was
only different! But he was probably gorg-
ing beefsteak or vension with her father
and Mr.. Waterhouse-men were always
such selfish creatures2-and had quite for
gotten all about her. 1t would only have
been decent for them to have brought her
down something hot; biscuits and honey
were certainly cloying, and somehow didn t
agree with the temperature. She was
really half starved! And much they
cared! It%ould just serve them right if
something did happen to her-or seemed
to happen to her-if only to frighten them.
And the pretty face that was turned up in
the moonlight wore charming but decided
pout.
Good graciousl What was that? The
horses were either struggling or fighting in
their snow shelters. Then one, with a
frightened neigh, broke from its halter and
dashed into the road, only to be plunged
snorting and helpless into the drifts. Then
the other followed! How silly Some
thing had frightened them Perhaps only
a rabbit or mole; horses were such alb
surdly nervous creatures! However, il
was just as well-somebody would see them
or hear them-that neigh was really quite
human and awful-and they would hurry
down to see what was the matter. She
couldn't be expected to get out and look
after the horses in the snow. Anyhow,
she wouldn't! She was good deal safer
where she vast might have been rats
or mice about that frightened them. Good
ness!
She was still watching with curious
wonder the continued fright of the animal
when suddenly she felt the wagon hal
bumped, half lifted from behind 1t wa!
such lazy, deliberate movement that fol
moment she thought it came from the
party who had returned noiselessly with
the runners. She scrambled over to the
back seat, unbuttoned the leather curtain
lifted it, but nothing was to be seen. Con
sequently, with feminine auickness, she
said, II see you perfectly, Mr.. Water
house-don't be sillyr' But at this mo
ment there was another shock to the wagor
and from beneath it arose what at frs
seemed to her to be an uplifting of the drift
itself, but as the snow was shaken ava,
from its heavy bulk, proved to be the enor
nous head and shoulders of bearl
Yet even then she was not wholly fright
ened. for the snout that confronted her hac
a feeble inoffensiveness; the small eyes wer
bright with an eager, almost childish curl
osity, rather than savage ardor, and tn
| whole attitude of the creature lifted upol
his hind legs was circuslike and ludicrou
rather than aggressive, She was enables
to say with some dignity $50 away
Shoot and to wave her luncheon baske
as it with exemplary frmness. But her
the creature laid one paw on the back sea
as if to steady itself, with the singular ef
feet of collapsing the whole side of tn
wagon, and then opened its mouth as if i
some sort of inarticulate reply. But tn
revelation Of its red tongue, its glistenin
teeth, and, above all, the hot, carniyorou
fume Of its breath, brought the first scream
from the lips of Miss Amy 1t was rea
and convincing; the horses joined in it
the three screamed together! The bea
hesitated for an instant, then, catchin
sight of the honey pot on the front seat
which the shrinking back of the youn
girl had disclosed, he slowly reached for
ward his other paw and attempted to gras
it. This exceedingly simple movement
however, at once doubled up the front seat
sent the honey pot dozen feet into th
air, and dropped Miss Amy upon her knee
in the bed of the wagon. The combine
mental and physical shock was too muc
for her; she instantly and sincerely tainted
the last thing in her ears amid this wrec
of matter being the '-whirp' of bqlle
and the crack of rifle.
She recovered her consciousness in tn
Pickering light of fire of bark that playe
upon the rafters of a roof thatched wit
bark and upon floor of strewn and shred
ded bark She even suspected she wa
living upon mattress of bark underneat
the heavy bearskin she could feel an
touch. She had a delicious sense {
warmth, and mingled with a strange spiC
a