[Illustration]
Suddenly a big hound dog that had crept up behind a near-by wagon roared
his challenge and rushed the cat. Without hesitation, the cat jumped on
Cindy's shoulders and turned to face his enemy. The dog charged angrily
in, bowling Cindy over in the process. The cat snarled. There was a
short, sharp fight on top of the prostrate youngster until, leaving the
cat in full possession of the field, the dog ran howling away.
Alec and his father, who had started running forward the instant the cat
leaped, arrived to find Cindy picking herself up and brushing herself
off. Her eyes were shining, and an excited smile trembled on her lips.
"Oh boy!" she exclaimed. "What a fight!"
"Are you hurt?" her father asked anxiously.
"Me?" Cindy looked astonished that anyone should ask such a question.
"Oh, no!"
"Doggone!" Alec burst out. "If you fell in a rain barrel you'd come out
with your pockets full of cookies!"
"Of course," Cindy said sweetly.
The cat resumed rubbing against her legs, and Cindy looked fondly at it.
Sure that she was not hurt, and far too excited to stay in one place for
very long, Jed Simpson walked over to discuss with Pete Brent plans that
they had already discussed a dozen times. Alec smirked at his sister.
"There's something I _will_ believe," he declared.
"What?" Cindy asked.
"The cat has cat's eyes."
Cindy made a face. "Funny boy! That man's eyes were just like the
cat's!"
"You're sure?" Alec asked.
"Very sure," Cindy said firmly. "I wish I could find him again."
"Seems he's 'being ware' of us. Guess your magic must have scared him
away. Let's take a walk," Alec suggested.
"Let's get Mindy to go with us," Cindy said eagerly.
"Mindy's sewing," Alec said, and added smugly, "a proper pastime for a
girl."
"I can sew too, smartypants," Cindy declared.
"Then why don't you?"
Cindy laughed. "I'd rather do almost anything else. Come on. Let's
walk."
They strolled among the camps and wagons, and it seemed that every day
brought more people who were determined to claim the free land in
Oklahoma. A creaking wagon drawn by six oxen and commanded by a bearded
man carrying an ox goad came in and stopped. The man smoothed his beard
with his fingers.
"How far to Oklahoma?" he called to a man who was soaping a saddle.
"Hundred yards," the man said without looking up.
The ox driver stared across the border. He said, as though he had reason
to doubt it, "So that's Oklahoma?"
"Yup," the other man continued industriously to soap his saddle, "an'
you better not cross afore noon tomorra. They're kickin' more Sooners
out every day."
Cindy shivered. "It's so exciting!" she exclaimed.
"Sure is!" Alec glowed.
It seemed that everyone had been bitten by an invisible bug which
continued to bite and would permit no rest. Hands clasped behind his
back, the man who owned the race horse paced restlessly back and forth,
almost as though someone had measured off a space and ordered him to
walk in it forever. His cheeks were red and his eyes bright, almost
feverish. He looked at the two children as they passed without even
seeing them.
The family that hoped to "make out in Oklyhomy" were all busy, the man
oiling harness, the woman and her oldest daughter piling boxes in the
wagon, and the three smaller children getting in the way. The two lively
young men were having a wrestling match. The old man was looking
earnestly at his sorry-looking mule and saying over and over again,
"Now, mule, we got to go. We got to go, mule."
"Where you got to go?" somebody called.
"Oklahoma," the old man said. "Now, mule, we got to go. We got to go,
mule."
[Illustration]
A reckless rider on a plunging horse rode through the camp. His horse,
jumping suddenly sidewise, knocked over one of two water pails that were
standing beside a tent. The owner of the pails, a fat man dressed only
in red underwear, ran out of the tent and shook his fist.
"Come back and do that again!" he yelled.
"All right! I will!"
The reckless rider turned his horse, came back, knocked over the other
water pail, then, laughing, rode off. The fat man raised his arms
heavenwards and roared at the top of his voice. Then, shrugging, he
picked up his pails and, still wearing only red underwear, went to get
more water.
A bevy of youngsters were playing tag near by. "Join the game!" a
freckle-faced boy about Alec's age called.
"Let's!" Cindy said eagerly.
"Play tag, when the border's opening tomorrow?" Alec questioned.
"Oh!" the freckle-face bristled. "So you're too good to play tag with
us!"
He swaggered up to Alec, raised a threatening hand, and the battle was
about to be joined when Cindy brought her shoe sharply down on the
freckle-face's bare foot. He cried "Ooh!" and began to hop about on one
foot. Seizing Alec's hand, Cindy ran like a deer.
She led him around a wagon, dodged around another, then ducked behind a
tent. They stopped running and peered cautiously around the tent.
Freckle-face and his friends were hunting determinedly for them. But
they were hunting in the wrong direction.
"I could have licked him!" Alec glowered.
[Illustration]
"But not him and all his friends," Cindy reminded her brother. "Besides,
Mother doesn't want you fighting at all, and even Father would be angry
if you fought on Sunday. We'd better get back to our own wagon, or we'll
be late for church services."
For the first time, the hubbub quieted as people gathered to worship.
The church was an open space among the camps and wagons, the pulpit a
wagon box, and the preacher an unlettered farmer named John Taber. But
his heart was sincere, and his beliefs were honest. Attempting no great
oration, he spoke of brotherly love, of peace, and of helpful
activities. He reminded all present that, regardless of how bitter or
harsh their future struggles might seem, they would never be alone or
deserted, for He who was above all would never forsake them. All along
the 200-mile border, similar services were taking place.
For a while after religious services the people were calmer, but few
could stay that way.
Jed Simpson started inspecting Sunshine's hoofs. Mindy and her mother
resumed sewing. Mrs. Simpson's head was bent as though she wanted to
hide the fear that lurked in her face. Cindy helped Pete Brent groom his
ponies while Alec groomed the Simpsons' wagon mules. Only Granny and
Gramps, sitting quietly side by side and finding in each other
something much more interesting than others found in excited thoughts of
free land, seemed calm and at ease.
All night long men shouted, now and again guns exploded, and usually
somebody had his voice raised in song. Tomorrow was the day of glory.
Tomorrow the border opened, and the few who might have slept could not
because the rest were making so much noise.
Dawn was breaking when Cindy finally went to sleep. Dimly through the
slumber that was enfolding her she heard an anguished "Has anybody seen
a strayed mule?"