The soft and velvety blackness of night was giving place to a pearly
grey, and the feathery streaks of a trembling dawn were shooting
heavenward when a man, whose head had been pillowed on a Mexican saddle,
rose from the ground in front of a tepee, made of blankets on crossed
sticks, and seated himself on an old tree-stump where he proceeded to
light a cigarette.
In the little tepee, sheltered by an overhanging rock, the Girl was
still sleeping; and the man, sitting opposite the mound of earth and
rock on which it was built, was Johnson.
A week had passed since the lovers had left Cloudy Mountain, and each
day, at the moment when the sun burst above the snow-capped mountains,
found them up and riding slowly eastward. No attempt whatever was made
at haste, but, instead, now climbing easily to the top of the passes,
now descending into the valleys, they rode slowly on, ever loathe to
leave behind them the great forests and high mountains.
Noon of each day found them always resting in some glen where the sun
made golden lacework of the branches over their heads; while at the
approach of night when the great orb was no longer to be seen through
the tree-tops and twilight was fast settling upon the woods, they would
halt near a pool of a dancing brook where, with the relish of fatigue,
they would partake of their rations; and then, when the silences came
on, Johnson would proceed to put up with loving skill the Girl's rude
quarters and, stretching himself out on a gentle slope, covered with
pine needles matted close together, the man and the Girl would go to
sleep listening to the music of the stream as it gurgled and dashed
along, foaming and leaping, over the rocks and beneath the little
patches of snow forgotten by the sun. And to these two, whether in the
depths of the vast forest or, as now, at the edge of the merciless
desert, stretching away like a world without end, their environment
seemed nothing less than a paradise.
There were moments, however, in the long days, which could be devoted to
reflection; and often Johnson pondered over the strange fate that had
brought him under the influence--an influence which held him now and
which he earnestly prayed would continue to hold him--and into close
relationship with a character so different from his own. A contemplation
of his past life was wholly unnecessary, for the realisation had come to
him that it was her personality alone that had awakened his dormant
sense of what was right and what was wrong, and changed the course of
his life. That his future was full of possibilities, evil as well as
good, he was only too well aware; nevertheless, his faith in himself was
that of a strong man whose powers of resistance, in this case, would be
immeasurably strengthened by constant association with a stronger
character.
It was while he was in the midst of these thoughts that the Girl,
without letting him see her, quietly drew the blankets of the tepee a
little to one side and peered out at him. She, too, had not been without
her moments of meditation. Not that she regretted for an instant that
she had committed herself to him irrevocably but, rather, because she
feared lest he should find it difficult to detach himself, soul and
body, from the adventurous life he had been leading. Such painful
communings, however, were rare and quickly dismissed as unworthy of her;
and now as she looked at him with faith and joy in her eyes, it seemed
to her that never before had she seen him appear so resolute and strong,
and she rejoiced that he belonged to her. At the thought a blush spread
over her features, and it was not until she had drawn the blankets back
into their place that she called from behind them:
"Are you awake, Dick?"
At the sound of her voice the man quickly arose and, going over to the
tepee, he parted the blankets and held them open. And even as she passed
out the greyness of dawn was replaced by silver, and silver by pink
tints which lighted up the pale green of the sage brush, the dwarf
shrubs and clumps of Buffalo grass around them as well as the darker
green of the pines and hemlocks of the foothills in the near distance.
"Another day, Girl," he said softly. "See, the dawn is breaking!"
For some moments they stood side by side in silence, the man thinking of
the future, the woman serenely happy and lost in admiration of the calm
beauty of the scene which, in one direction, at least, differed greatly
from anything that she had ever beheld. Every night previous to the one
just passed they had encamped in the great forests; but now they looked
upon a vast expanse of level plain which to the north and east,
stretched trackless and unbroken by mountain or ravine to an
infinitude--the boundless prairies soon to be mellowed and turned to a
golden brown by the shafts of a burning sun already just below the edge
of an horizon aglow with opaline tints.
The Girl had ever been a lover of nature. All her life the mystery and
silences of the high mountains had appealed to her soul; but never until
now had she realised the marvellous beauty and glory of the great
plains. And yet, though her eyes shone with the wonder of it all, there
was an unmistakably sad and reminiscent note in the voice that presently
murmured:
"Another day."
After a while, and as if under the spell of some unseen power, she
slowly turned and faced the west where she gazed long and earnestly at
the panorama of the snow-capped peaks, rising range after range, all
tipped with dazzling light.
"Oh, Dick, look back!" she cried in distress. "The foothills are growin'
fainter." She paused, but suddenly with a far-off look in her eyes she
went on: "Every dawn--every dawn they'll be farther away. Some night
when I'm goin' to sleep I'll turn an' they won't be there--red an'
shinin'." Again she paused as if almost overwhelmed with emotion, saying
at length with a deep sigh: "Oh, that was indeed the promised land!"
Johnson was greatly moved. It was some time before he found his voice.
At length he chided her softly:
"We must always look ahead, Girl--not backwards. The promised land is
always ahead."
It was perhaps strange that the Girl failed to see the new light--the
light that reflected his desire for a cleaner life and an honoured place
in another community with her ever at his side--the hope and faith in
his eyes as he spoke; but still in that sad, reminiscent mood, with her
eyes fixed on the dim distances, she failed to see it, though she
replied in a voice of resignation:
"Always ahead--yes, it must be." And then again with tears in her eyes:
"But, Dick, all the people there in Cloudy, how far off they seem
now--like shadows movin' in a dream--like shadows I've dreamt of. Only a
few days ago I clasped their hands--I seen their faces--their dear
faces--I--" She broke off; then while the tears streamed down her
cheeks: "An' now they're fadin'--in this little while I've lost
'em--lost 'em."
"But through you all my old life has faded away . . . I have lost
that . . ." And so saying he stretched out his arms towards her; but
very gently she waved him back with a murmured:
"Not yet!"
For a little while longer her gaze remained on the mountains in the
west. The mist was still over her eyes when she turned again and saw
that the sun was clearing the horizon in opulent splendour.
"See," she cried with a quick transition of mood, "the sun has risen in
the East--far away--fair an' clear!"
Again Johnson held out his arms to her.
"A new day--a new life--trust me, Girl."
In silence she slipped one hand into his; then she bowed her head and
repeated solemnly:
"Yes--a new life."
Suddenly she drew a little away from him and faced the west again.
Clinging tightly now to him with one hand, and the other raised high
above her head, she cried in a voice that was fraught with such
passionate longing that the man felt himself stirred to the very depths
of his emotions:
"Oh, my mountains, I'm leavin' you! Oh, my California--my lovely
West--my Sierras, I'm leavin' you!" She ended with a sob; but the next
moment throwing herself into Johnson's arms she snuggled there,
murmuring lovingly: "Oh, my home!"
A little while later, happy in their love and fearlessly eager to meet
the trials of the days to come in a new country, they had mounted their
mustangs and were riding eastward.