The Laurens advertiser. (Laurens, S.C.) 1885-1973, 1904-06-01

to tile steers head, had aayea them
both from great danger, perhaps from
death. for the rest OF the cattts Wexe
crowdlng near. or course Bill could
never be persuaded to speak OF tho in-
cident. A true western nan will never
hesitate to tell you what he can do,
but of What he has done he does not
readily speak.
The only other item that hi con-
tributed to the sketch of Gwen was
that her temper could blaze IL tho occe-
sion demanded.
Member young Hill, Bnf"
Bill "'membered."
"Didn't she cut into him suddeaP
Garved him right too"
What did she do7"
"Cut him across the face with her
quirt i'm good STYLE"
what forT
"Knockin' about her Indian joe"
Joe was, as 1 came to learn, Ponka's
soR and Owens most devoted slave.
"Oh, she amt no refrigerator"
Eyes" assented Bill. "She's q leetie
swift"
Then, rs tf fearing he had been apoi-
ogizing for her, he added, with the afr
Of one settling the question:: But
she's good stock! She suits mel"
The Duke helped m to another side
Of her character.
"Shc is Il remarkable child" he said
one day; wild and shy as q coyote,
but fearless, quite, and with a heart
full Of passions. Meredtth-the Old
Timer, you know-has kept her up
there among the hills. She sees no one
but himself and Ponka's Blackfoot re-
%latIons, who treat her like q goddess
and help to spoil her utterly. She
knows their lingo and their ways-goes
OF with them for n week at n time"
"What! With the Blackfeet"
"Ponka and Joe, OF course, 90 along,
but even without them she is as safe
as If surrounded by the Coldstrcam
guards. But she has given them up
for some time now"
"And at homer I asked. HAS she
any education? Can she read or
writc?"
mot she. She can make her own
dresses, moccasins and leggings. She
can cook and wash-that Is, when she
feels in the mood. And she knows all
about the birds and beasts and flowers
and that sort of thing, but-education!
Why, she is hardly c%ilizcd.'
'W.hat n shnmo.' 1 said. "IIow old
is shc?"
ooh, u mere child-fourtecn or If
teen, 1 imagine, but a woman in many
things
"And what does her father say to
all this? al he control herr"
"Control"' said the Duke I'm utter
establishment. "NYhy, bless your soul,
nothing In heaven or earth could con.
troll her. Wait till You see her stand
with her proud little head thrown
back, giving orders to Joe. and YOU
Will never again connect the idea Of
control with Gwen. She might be n
princess for the pride Of her. I've
seen some, too, in my day, but lone
to touch her for sheer, imperial pride,
little Lucifcr that she is"
"And how does her father stand her
nonscnsc:" 7 asked. for l confess I
the Duke had drawn.
"llcr father simply follows behind
her and adorcs, as do all things that
come near her. down, or up. perhaps,
to her two dogs. Wolf md Loo, for
either of which she would readily die
IL need br. Still," he added after n
pause. cit is Il shame, as o say. She
ought to know something OF the refine
mcnts of civilization. to which, after
ali, she belongs. II from which none
of us can hope to escape" The Duke
| was silapt for n fpy- t,np,nnfu op1 %l,ar
added with some hesitation, "Then, too,
She Is quite Il pagnn-never saw q
prayer book, know"
And so 1t came about, chiefly through
the Dukes influence, | imagine, that !
was engaged by the Old Timer to go
up to his ranch every week md teach
his daughter something OF the ee-
mentar!es of a lady's education.
My introduction was Ominous of the
many things / was to suffer Of that
same young maiden before l had On.
ished my course with her. The Old
Timer had given careful directions az
to the trail that would lead me to the
canyon where he was to meet me. Up
the Swan vent the trail, winding ever
downward into deeper and narrower
coulees and up to higher open sunlit
slopes, till suddenly 1t settled into q
valley which began with great width
and narrowed to a canyon whose rocky
sides were dressed out with shrubs and
trailing vines and wet with trickling
~rivulets from the numerous springs
that oozed and gushed from the black.
glisteping rocks. This canyon was an
eerie place of which ghostly tales were
told from the old Blackfoot times. And
to this day no Blackfoot will dare to
pass through this black walled, oozy,
giistening canyon after the moon has
passed the western lip. But in the
warm light Of broad day the canyon
was a good enough place. cool and
sweet, and I fingered through, waiting
for the Old Timer, who failed TO ap-
pear till the shadows began to darken
Its western black sides.
Out Of the mouth Of the canyo the
trail climbed to a wide stretch Of prairie
that swept up owe soft hills to the left
and down to the bright cleaning wa
tiers of the Devils lake on the right.
In the sunlight the lake lay like a gem
radiant with many colors, the far side
black in the shadow OF the crowding
L Wlx~oa Il4x t., A. 49,