Bonners Ferry herald. [volume] (Bonners Ferry, Idaho) 1904-current, 1915-10-08
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on those silent days, and his blue
eyes, where the very whites wore
burned, began to wear the far-away.
mysterious look OF the traveller across
long distances. During the last sand
storm he stood, with the cAmels, round
Sabron's litter a human shade and
shield. and when the storm ceased he
fell like one dead, and the Arabs
pulled off his boots and put him to bed
like child.
One shutdown, as they travelled into
the afterglow with the East behind
them, when fremont thought he
could not endure another day OF the
voyage. when the pallor and waxiness
of Sabron's face we're like death itself.
Hammet Abou. who rode ahead, cried
out and pulled up his camel short
He waved him arm.
"A caravan, monsieur"
In the distance they saw the tents.
like lotus leaves, scattered on the pink
sands, and the dark shadows of the
Arabs and the couchant beasts, and
the glow of the encampment fire.
"An encampment, monsieuri"
fremont sighed. He drew the cur
tain of the litter and looked in upon
features, the growth Of his uncut
beard, the long fringe of his eyes, his
dark hair upon his forehead, his wan
transparency-with the peace upon his
face. he might have been a figure Of
Christ waiting for sepulture.
fremont cried to him. "Sabron,
mon vieux Charles, reveille-toi! We
are in sight of human beingsl"
But Sabron gave no sign that he
heard or cared.
Throughout the journey across the
desert, Pitchoune had ridden at his
will and according to his taste, some
times journeying for the entire day
perched upon Tremont's camel He
sat like little figurehead or a mas
cot. with ears pointed northward and
his keen nose smiling the desert air
Sometimes he would take the same
position on one Of the mules that car
ried Sabron's litter. at his masters
feet. There he would lie hour after
hour, with his soft eyes fixed with
understanding sympathy upon Sab
ron's face
He was, as he had been to Fatou
Ami, kind OF fetish-the caravan
adored him. Now from his position al
Sabron's feet, he crawled up and
licked his masters hand.
"Charles!" fremont cried, and lift
ed the soldiers hand.
Sabron opened his eyes. He was
sane. The slimmer of smile touched
his lips. He said Trcmont's name
recognized him. Are we homer" he
asked weakly. Us it Francew
fremont turned and dashed away q
tear.
He drew the curtains Of the littei
and now walked beside 1t, his legs
feeling like cotton and his heart beat
ing. f.
AS they came up toward the en-
campment, two people rode out tc
meet them, two women in white riding
habits, on stations, and as the evening
breeze ruttered the wells from their
helmets, they seemed to be nags Of
welcome.
Under his helmet fremont was rec
and burned. He had short. rough
growth of beard.
Therese de la Maine and Julia Red
mond rode up. fremont recognized
them. and came forward. half stasger
ing. He looked at Julia and smiled
and pointed with his left hand toward
the litter; but he went directly up t
Madame de la Maine, who sat immov
able on her little stallion. fremont
seemed to gather her in his arms H,
lifted her down to him.
Julia Redmond's eyes were on tn,
litter, whose curtains were stirring II
the breeze. Hammet Abou, with
profound salaam. came forward 70 her
"Mademoiselle," he said, respect
fully. "he lives. | have kept my word
Pitchoune sprang from the litter ant
ran over the sands to Julia Redmond
She dismounted from her horse alon,
and called him: "Pitchounel Pit
chounel" Kneeling down on the des
ert, she stopped to caress him, an,
he crouched at her feet, licking he
hands.