Springtime
Have you seen the springtime dawn on the Black Hills? No? Then you have
never seen a real spring.
For long, dark, silent months the land has lain under a broad white
robe, the plains are levelled, hidden, and the whiteness of the high
spaces sweeps down to meet, on the lower hills, the sudden blackness of
the forest pine. And now you know why these are named Black Hills. Full
four white moons have waned; the blizzard wind has hissed and stung,
till the house-bound wonder if the days of spring will ever come. In
March, when the northward-heading crows appear, the sting-wind weakens,
halts; the sweet south wind springs up, the snow-robe of the plains
turns yellow here and there as the grass comes through, then lo! comes
forth a world of crocus bloom. The white robe shrivels fast now, the
brown pursues it up the mountain side till at the last there is nothing
left but a high-up snow-cap hiding beneath the pines, slowly dissolving
in a million crystal rills to swell the rolling Cheyenne far below. The
spring birds fill the air, the little ones that twitter as they pass,
and the great gold-breasted prairie lark that sings and sings: "The
Spring, the Spring, the glory of the Spring!" Then all the world is
glad, and stronger than the soft new wind, deeper than the impulse of
awakening flower bulbs, broader than the brightening tinge of green--is
the thrill of a world-wide, sky-wide joy and power, the exquisite
tenderness and yearning which if you know, you know; and if you do not
know it none can make you understand.
"O God of the blue and the green and the wind, oh, send me what my
spirit craves." That is the prayer, the unspoken prayer, of every
sun-wise creature in these days; and the wild things race and seek, and
search and race, not knowing what draws them ever on; but they surely
know when they find it, and then they are at rest.
And they rode, Belle and Jim, the big square man, and the maid with the
age-old light in her eyes, and they rejoiced in the golden plains. They
rode with the wild things of the plain, and though they talked of the
past and the future there was for them but one thing worth a thought,
the golden present in their golden youth.
"Oh, Belle, what fools we are! We talk of the past and of far-off days,
of the blessings that are ahead of us, and I know there is no better joy
than this, to ride and shout and be alive right now with you!"
Midnight had burgeoned out into a big strong horse; not swift, but
staunch and better fitted than the other for a rider of such weight. The
wound of losing Blazing Star had healed, and the scar it left was a
precious thing to Jim much as the Indian holds his Sun Dance scars as
proofs of fortitude unflinching.
Fort Ryan and all the plains were in a rosy light this spring. It was a
threefold joy to ride on Midnight, with Belle, and to visit Blazing Star
in his stall at the Fort. Hartigan felt a little guilty as the gentle
creature would come and nose about for sugar lumps while Midnight would
lay back his ears at the approach. Midnight had a temper, as was well
known; but it was never let forth, for the master that had so little
skill in handling men was adept with the horse.
These were very full days for Jim and Belle, though they took their
happiness in very different moods. There never was a grown man more
incapable of thought for the morrow than Hartigan; he was alive right
now, he would right now enjoy his life and Belle should be the crown.
But in her eyes even his imperception discovered a cloud.
"What is it, Belle? Why do you get that far-off troubled look?"
"Oh, Jim, you big, blind, childish giant; do you never think? You are
only a probationer with one year's leave. That year is up on the first
of May."
"Why, Belle darling, that's five weeks off. A world of things may happen
before that."
"Yes, if we make them happen, and I'm going to try."
"Well, Belle, this thing I know; if you set your mind to it I'd bet--if
I weren't a preacher--I'd bet there's not a thing could stand against
you."
"I like your faith, Jim; but 'faith without works is dead'; and that
means we must get up and rustle."
"What do you suggest?"
"Well, I have been rustling this long while back. I've been working Dr.
Jebb and Mrs. Jebb and anybody else I could get hold of, to have your
probation extended for another year. And the best news we have so far is
the possibility of another six months. After that, you must go back to
college to complete your course."
COLLEGE! Jim was thunderstruck. How many a man has all his dream of
bliss summed up in that one word--college? "Oh, if only I had money
enough to go to college!" is the cry of hundreds who hunger for the
things that college means; and yet, to Jim, it was like a doom of death.
College, with all the horror of the classroom ten times worse since
knowing the better things. College in the far-off East--deadly,
lifeless, crushing thing; college that meant good-bye to Belle, to life,
and red blood on the plains. Yes, he knew it was coming, if ever he gave
the horrid thing a thought; but now that it was close at hand the idea
was maddening. College was simply another name for hell. The effect of
the sudden thought on his wild, impulsive nature was one great surging
tide of rebellion.
"_I won't go!_" he thundered. "Belle, do you suppose God brought me out
here to meet you, and have you save me from ruin and help me to know the
best things on earth, just to chuck it all and go back to a lot of
useless rot about the number of wives the kings of Judah used to have,
or how some two-faced Hebrew woman laid traps for some wine-soaked
Philistine brute, and stuck the rotten loafer in the back with a kitchen
knife all for the pleasure and glory of a righteous God! I don't want
any more of it, Belle; _I won't go!_ You've told me often enough that my
instincts are better than my judgment, and my instincts tell me to stay
right here," and his face flushed red with passion.
"Dear boy! Don't you know I'm trying to help you? Don't you know I mean
to keep you here? You know that we can get anything we want, if we are
willing to pay the price, and _will_ have it. I mean to keep you here;
only I am trying not to pay too high a price."
She laid her hand on his. He reached out and put an arm about her. She
said nothing, and did nothing. She knew that he must blow off this
fierce steam, and that the reaction would then set in with equal force.
They rode for a mile in silence; she wanted him to speak first.
"You always help me," he said at last, heaving a great sigh. "You are
wiser than I am."
She gently patted his cheek. He went on: "What do you think I should
do?"
"Nothing for three days; then we'll see."
They galloped for half a mile, and every sign of worry was gone from his
face as they reined their horses in at the stable of Fort Ryan.