The Morris County chronicle. [volume] (Morristown, N.J.) 1877-1915, 1904-01-22
CHAPTER XII.


ing one lot of their admiration for her.
For fourteen years she had lived
chiefly with wild things. The cattle
on the range, wild as deer, the coyotes
the jack rabbits and the timber wolves
were her mates and her instructors
From these she learned her wild ways
The rolling prairie of the foothill coun-
try was her home She loved 1t and
all things that moved upon it with
passionate love, the only kind she was
capable of. And all summer long she
spent her days riding up and down
the range alone or with her father or
with Joe or, best of all, with the Duke,
her hero and her friend So she grew
up strong, wholesome and self reliant,
fearing nothing alive and as untamed
as yearling range colt.
She was not beautiful. The winds
and sun had left her no complexion to
speak of, but the glory of her red hair,
gold red, with purple sheen. nothing
could tarnish. Her eyes, too, deep
blue with rims of gray, that flashed
with the CLINT of steel or shone with
melting light as of the stars, accord
ing to her mood-those Irish, warm.
deep eyes of hers were worth a mans
looking at
OF course all spoiled her. Ponka and
her son Joe groveled in abjectest adora-
ton, while her father and all who
came within touch of her simply did
her will Even the Duke, who loved
her better than anything else yielded
lazy, admiring homage to his Little
Princess, and certainly, when she stood
straight up, with her proud little gold
crowned head thrown back, flashing
forth wrath or issuing imperious com
mands, she looked a princess, all of
her.
1t was a great day and good day
for her when she fished the Sky Pilot
out of the Swan and brought him home,
and the night of Owens first
prayers" when she heard for the first
time the story of the Man of Nazareth,
was the best of all her nights up to
that time. All through the winter,
under the Pilots guidance, she, with
her father, the Old Timer, listening
near, went over and over that story SO
new, till a whole new world of mysteri-
GUS powers and presences lay open to
her Imagination and became the home
of great realities. She was rich in
Imagination and, when the Pilot read
Bunyan's immortal poem, her mothers
old "Pilgrim's Progress" she moved
and lived beside the hero of that tale.
backing him up in his fights and con-
sumed with anxiety over his many i'm
pending perils, till she had him safely
across the river and delivered into the
charge of the shining ones.
The Pilot himself, too, was new
and wholesome experience. He was
the first thing she had yet encountered
that refused submission and the first
human being that had failed to fall
down and worship, There was some
thing in him that would not always
yield, and, indeed, her pride and her
fmperious tempers he met with surprise
and sometimes with pity that verged
toward contempt. With this she was
not well pleased and not infrequently
she broke forth upon him. One of
these outbursts is stamped upon my
mind not only because of its unusual
violence, but chiefly because of the
events which followed. The original
cause of her rage was some trihing
misdeed of the unfortunate Joe; but
when | came upon the scene it was
the Pilot who was occupying her at
tention. The expression of surprise
and pity on his face appeared to stir
her up
How dare you look at me like
that?" she cried.
How very extraordinary that you
can't keep hold of yourself better!' he
answered.
II cam she stamped, And shall
do as l like!
''It is a great pity" he said, with
provoking calm, land, besides, it is
fortunate.
"Weakw she gasped, when her
breath came back to her. "Weakr'
YES" he said; very weak and child
ish."
Then she could have cheerfully put
him to a slow and cruel death When
she had recovered a little she cried
vehemently:
I'm not weak! I'm strong. I'm
stronger than you are! I'm strong as
asa man.
! do not suppose she meant the in
situation. AT any rate the Pilot ig-
nored it and went on.
you're not strong enough to keep
your temper down." And then, as she
had no reply ready, he went on: And
really, Gwen, it is not right. You must
not go on in this way
Again his words were unfortunate
Must mott" she cried, adding an inch
to her height. "Who says SOP"
"Godr' was the simple, short answer
She was greatly taken back, and
gave a quick glance over her shoulder
as if to see him who would dare to
say "must not to her; but, recovering.
she answered sullenly:
81 don't carep'
Don't care for GodY The Pilots
voice was quiet and solemn, but some
thing in his manner angered her, and
she blazed forth again:
II don't care for any one, and
shall do as | like"
The Pilot looked at her sadly for a
moment. and then said slowly:
LII