The Caldwell watchman. (Columbia, La.) 1885-1946, 1913-04-04
COPYRIGHT 10

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five days. The daily journeys pro-
ceeded uneventfully. Mahomed main
tanned taciturn grimness. II ne
aimed at Ryanne at all. it was in
trifiing annoyances, such as forget
ting to give him his rations unless ne
asked for them, or walking over the
cards spread out upon the sand
Ryanne carried himself very we'll Had
he been alone, he would have broken
loose against Mahomed; but he
thought Of the others, and restrained
himself-some consideration was due
them.
But into the blood Of the two men
there crept petty irritability. They
answered one another sharply, and
often did not speak. Fortune alone
seemed mild and gentle. Mahomed,
! since that night she had braved him,
let her go and come as she pleased,
nor once disturbed her Had she
shown weakness when most she need
ed courage, Mahomed might not have
altered his plans. Admiration of cour-
age is inherent in all people. So,
without approaching it, that moment
had been precious one, saving them
all much unpleasantness.
! BY the twentieth day, the caravan
was far into the Arabian desert, and
early in the afternoon, they came up
on beautiful oasis, nesting like an
emerald in plaque of gold. So many
| days had passed since the beloved
green Of growing things had soothed
their inf1amed eyes, that the sight Of
this haven cheered them all nightly.
Once under the shade Of the palms,
the trio picked up heart. Fortune sang
a little, George told funny story, and
Ryanne wanted to know If they
wouldn't take hand at euchre. In
deed, that oasis was the turning-point
OF the crisis. Another week upon the
dreary, proftless sands, and their spir.
its would have gone under completely.
This oasis was close to the regular
camel-way, there being a larger oasis
some twenty-odd miles to the north.
But Mahomed felt safe atthis distance,
and decided to freshen up the caravan
by a two-days' rest.
George Immediately began to show
Fortune little attentions. He fixed her
saddle.bags, spread out her blanket,
brought her some ripe dates of his
own picking, insisted upon going to
the we'll and drawing the water she
was to drink. And oh! how sweet and
cool that water was, after the gritty
fiat liquid they had been drinking!
Just before shutdown, he and Fortune
set out upon a voyage Of discovery:
and Ryanne paused in his game of pa
tience to watch them. There was
more self-abnegation than bitterness
in his eyes. Why not? II Fortune re.
turned to her mother, sooner or later
the thunderbolt would fall. Far better
that she should fall in love with Jones
than to go back to the overhanging
shadow A smile lifted the corners Of
his lips, a sad smile. Percival didn't
look the part Of hero. His coat was
variously split under the arms and
across the shoulders; his trousers
were ragged, and he walked in his
cloth pads like man who had govt
in both feet. A beard covered his
face, and the bare spots We're blistered
and peeling. But there was youth in
Percivals eyes and youth in his heart,
and surely the youth in hers must
some day respond. She would know
this young man; she would know that
adversely could not crush him: that
the promise Of safety could, not make
coward Of him: that he was loyal
and brave and honest. She would
know in twenty days what it takes the
average woman twenty years to learn.
the manner of man who protested to
love her. Ryanne left the game unfin-
ished, stretched himself upon the
ground. Oh, the bitter cup, the bitter
cup!
Round the fire that night, the camel.
boys got out their tom-toms and reeds.
and the eerie music affected the white
people hauntingly and mysteriously
For thousands Of years, the high and
low notes of the drums (hollow earth.
en-jars or large gourds covered with
goat'skin at one end and the thin, me.
tallic wall Of the reeds had echoed
across the deserts, unchanged.
Fortune always remembered that
night. Wrapped in her blanket, she
had lain down just outside the circle
and had fallen into a doze. When the
music stopped and the boys left the
prisoners to themselves, George and
Ryanne talked.
81 never forget faces" began
George.
mo? That's gift"
And / have never forgotten yours
was in doubt at first, but not now /"
i never met you till that night al
the hotel"
That's true. But you are Horace
Wadsworth, all the same, the son OF
the millionaire-banker, the man used
to admire in the field"
You still think I'm that chap"
Il am sure Of 1t. The first morn,ns
you gave yourself away"
What did ! say?" anxiously.
"You mumbled football phrases.