CHAPTER XVIII.
WESTWARD AND EASTWARD OVER THE PRAIRIE.
"Fast, Tempest, fast!"
The sunshine was in his eyes, and a warmer sunshine in his heart, asGaspar urged the gelding forward.
Fast it was. The faithful creature recognized the burden he carried,and his clean, small feet reeled off the distance like magic, till thevillage by the lake was left far behind, and only the limitlessprairie stretched beyond. Yet still there was no sign of the Snowbirdalong the horizon, nor any point discernible where an Indianencampment might be.
At length the rider paused to consider the matter.
"It's strange I don't see her. If she were crossing the level,anywhere, I should, for my eyes are trained to long distances. It mustbe that Abel gave me the wrong direction. I'll turn north, and try."
But, keen-sighted though he was, for once the woodsman blundered.Between him and the lowering sun the prairie dipped and rose again,the two borders of the hidden valley seeming to meet in one unbrokenplain. It was in this little depression that the wigwams were pitched,and among them the Sun Maid was already moving and pleading with herfriends for patience and peace.
Meanwhile, Gaspar continued on his chosen route, at a direct rightangle from that he should have followed, till the twilight came downand the whole landscape was swathed in mist. For there had been heavyrains of late, and the vapor rose from the soaked and sun-warmed earthlike a great white pall, filling the hunter's nostrils and blindinghis sight.
"Well, this is hopeless. I might ride over her and not find her inthis fog. But I can't stay here. It's choking. Heaven grant my Kitty'ssafe under shelter somewhere. My own safety is to keep moving. Goodboy, Tempest! Take it easy, but don't stop."
After that, there was nothing to do but trust the horse's instinct tofind a path through the mist and to be grateful that the ground was solevel.
"It's a long lane that has no turning. It must be that we'll strikesomething different after a while; if not a settler's house, at leasta clump of trees. Any shelter would be better than none, in thiscreeping moisture. It would be easy to get lost; and what a situation!Oh! if I knew that she was out of it. A messenger to the Indians, eh?My little Kit, my dainty foster-sister!"
The gelding's nose was to the ground and, as a dog would have done, hepicked his way, cautiously, yet surely, straight north where lay,though Gaspar did not know it, a settler's clearing and comfortablecabin. The rider's thoughts passed from his present surroundings backto the past and forward to the future; and when there sounded, almostat his feet, a cry of distress he did not hear it in his absorption.
But Tempest did. At the second wail he stopped short, and it was thisthat roused Gaspar from his reverie.
"Tired, old Tempest, boy? It won't do to rest here. Take a breath, ifyou like, and get on again. Keeping at it is salvation."
"Mamma! I want--my--mamma!"
"Whew! What's that? Hello!"
The sound was not repeated, and yet Tempest would not advance.
"Hello!" shouted Gaspar; and after a moment of strained listening,again he caught the echo of a child's sob.
"My God! A baby--here! Lost in this fog!"
He was off his horse and down upon his knees, reaching, feeling,creeping--calling gently, and finally touching the cold, drenchedgarment of the child he could not see.
In its terror at this fresh danger the little one shrieked and rolledaway; but the man lifted it tenderly, and soothed it with kind wordstill its shrieks ceased and it clung close to its rescuer.
"There, there, poor baby! How came you here? Don't be afraid. I'lltake you home. Tempest will find the way. Feel--the good horse knows.It was he that found you; we'll get on his back and ride straight tomamma, for whom you called."
Climbing slowly back into his saddle, because of the little one heheld so carefully, Gaspar laid its cold hand upon the gelding's neck,but it slid listlessly aside and he realized that he had come not amoment too soon.
All night they wandered, the child lying on Gaspar's breast wrapped inhis coat, while the mist penetrated his own clothing and seemed tocreep into his very thoughts, numbing them to a sort of despair thatno effort could cast off. The wail of the child lost in thatdreariness had brought back, like a lightning's flash, the earliestmemories of his life and revived his never-dying hatred of hisparent's slayers.
"An Indian's hand was in this work!" he mused. "Doubtless, the motherfor whom it grieved has met the fate which befell my own. And Abelsaid that it was among such as these my Sun Maid had gone!"
Then justice called to mind his knowledge of Wahneenah, of the BlackPartridge, old Winnemeg, and others, and his mood softened somewhat;but still memory tormented him and the white fog seemed a backgroundfor ghastly scenes too awful for words. Above all and through all, oneconsciousness was keener and fiercer than the others:
"My Kitty is among them at this moment! O, God, keep her!"
It was the strongest cry of his yearning heart; yet underneath lay animpotent rage at his own powerlessness to help in this preservation.
"For what is my manhood or my courage worth to her now? And even theDeity seems veiled by this deadening, suffocating mist!"
But Tempest moved steadily on once more, and the little child warmedto life on his breast; and by degrees the man's self-torment ceased.Then he lifted his eyes afresh and struggled to pierce the gloom.
What was that? A light! A little yellow spot in the gray whiteness,which the horse was first to see and toward which he now hastened witha firmer speed.
"It's a fire. No, a lamp in a house window. There, it's gone. Awill-o'-the-wisp by some hidden pool. It shines again. Well, Tempestsees it and believes in it."
The man lacked the animal's faith, and even when they had come towithin a short distance of the glow, the clouds of vapor sweptbetween it and them and Gaspar checked Tempest's advance. But at lasta slight wind rose, and the mist which rolled toward them was tingedwith the odor of smoke, so the rider knew that his first surmise hadbeen correct.
"It is a fire. A settler's cabin, probably once this lost child'shome. The red man's work!"
When he reached the very spot there were, indeed, the remnants of agreat burning, yet in the circle of the light Gaspar saw a house stillstanding. He was at its threshold promptly, and entered through itsopen door upon a scene of desolation. A woman crouched by the hearththat was strewn with ashes, and her moans echoed through the gloomwith so much of agony in them that the stranger's worst fears wereconfirmed. Then he caught her murmured words, and they were all of onetenor:
"My baby! my baby! my baby! My one lost little child! The wolves--mylittle one--my all!"
Gaspar strode into the room, lighted only by the fitful glare from theruins without, and gently spoke:
"Don't grieve like that! The child is safe. It is here in my arms."
"What? Safe! safe!"
The mother was up, and had caught the little one from him before thewords had left her lips, and the passion of her rejoicing brought thetears to the man's eyes as her sorrow had not done.
After a moment, she was able to speak clearly and to demand his story.Then she gave hers.
"I was here alone. My husband had gone hunting, and I went into thebarn to seek for eggs. The loft was dark----"
"Spare yourself. I can guess. The Indians."
"The Indians? No, indeed. Myself. My own carelessness. I carried acandle, and dropped it. The hay caught. I barely escaped from havingmy clothing burned on me; but I did. Then I forgot everything exceptmy terrible loss and my husband's anger when he returns. I began tofight the fire. I remember my little one crying with fright, but Ipaid no attention, and when at length I realized that it was too latefor me to save our stock I stopped to look for him. Fortunately, thecabin was too far from the barn to catch easily, and there was a windblowing the other way. That's all that saved the home; yet, when Imissed my baby, I wished that it would burn, too, and me with it. Lifewithout him would be a living death. And he would have di
ed, any way.The wolves are awful troublesome this spring. We've lost more thantwenty of our hogs and the only pair of sheep we had. So husbandjoined a party and went out to hunt them. What will he say, what willhe say, when he comes back!"
In Gaspar's heart there sprang up a great happiness. The ill whichhad happened here was so much less than he had anticipated that hetook courage for himself. After all, the Sun Maid might be safe, asAbel had declared she said she should be. He remembered, at last, thatnot all men are evil, even red ones; and in the reaction of his ownfeelings, he exclaimed:
"What can he say, but give thanks that no worse befell him!"
However, now that her child was safe within her arms, the woman beganto suffer in advance the torment she would have to undergo when shefaced her indignant husband; and she retorted sharply:
"Worse! Well, I suppose so. But I don't see why in the name of commonsense I was let to be such a fool in the first place. He won't,neither. It's all very well when you've lost half your property togive thanks for not losing your life, too; but I don't see any causefor losing ary one."
This sounded so like Mercy and her philosophy that Gaspar threw backhis head and laughed; which angered his new friend first, and thenaffected her, also, with something of his mirth.
"I can't see a thing to laugh at, I, for one," she remarked, trying tobe stern.
"Oh! but I can. And I'm not a laughing man, in ordinary. But there'sone thing I know--I'm powerful hungry. Can't we make another fire, onethat we can control, and get a bit of supper? If there's anything inthe house to cook, I can cook it while you tend baby. Then we'll talkover your affairs."
"There's plenty to cook, but you'll not cook it, sir. I owe you mychild's life, and now things are getting straighter in my muddledmind. I lost the barn for Jacob, and I must help replace it. I've beena hard worker always, but I can stretch another point, I guess. Pshaw!I believe it's getting daylight. It'll be breakfast instead of supper,this time."
It was daylight, indeed; and in a half-hour the simple meal wassmoking on the table, and Gaspar sitting to eat it with the heartyappetite of a man who has lived always out-of-doors. But he could talkas fast as eat, when he was anxious as on that morning; and before hehad drained his last cup of the "rye coffee" he had learned from hishostess that the Indian encampment he sought lay well to thesouthwestward of her cabin, and that by a way she could direct him hecould reach it easily in a two-hours' ride. This to Tempest, who hadrested and fed, would be nothing, if he was anything the horse he usedto be, and Gaspar believed, from the past night's experience, thatsometimes even a horse can improve with age.
"Well, I'll be off, then. I'm anxious to get there. If all goes wellI'll get around this way again before long. Thank you for myentertainment, and here's a trifle for the baby."
He tossed a gold piece on the table and was leaving the cabin. But sherestrained him.
"No, sir, I can't take that, nor let the little one. And as forthanking me, I shall never cease to thank you, and the Lord for you,that you lost your way last night. But let me beg you, sir, to take asecond thought. Jacob says the Indians are getting ready for anoutbreak. It is like running your neck into a halter to go among themjust now. I--I wish you wouldn't. I couldn't bear to have harm come toyou after what you've done for me."
"Thank you, but I must go. I am not much afraid for myself at anytime, for I've known the red-skins always and--trusted them never! Buta girl--did you ever hear of the Sun Maid?"
"Hear of her? Her? Well, I guess so! Who hasn't, in these parts? Why?"
"It was to find her and protect her that I started last night from theFort."
"To _protect_ her? Well, you could have saved your trouble. I wishthat I was as safe in this wild country as she is. There is an oldsaying that her life is charmed; that nothing evil can ever happen toher; and so far it has proved true. As for the Indians, even thewickedest in the whole race would die to save her life. I hope you'llfind her, sir, all right; but if there's any protecting to be done,she'll protect you, not you her. Well, good-by, and good luck!"
Gaspar bared his head and rode away, on a straight trail this time,and with the exhilaration of the morning tingling through hishealthful veins. On every side the great clouds of white mist rose androlled apart. Blue violets and white windflowers began to peep upwardat him from his path, and he remembered Kitty's love for them. Thenthe sun broke through, and only those who have thus ridden across adew-drenched prairie, at such an hour in such a season, can picturewhat that ride was like.
The spirit of life and love and that glorious morning thrilled bothhorse and master as they leaped forward and still forward till, on thetop of a grassy rise, a sudden halt was made.
For what was this coming out of the west?--this fair white creature onher snowy mount, with the golden sunlight on her yellow hair, herglowing face, her modest maiden breast. Flowers wreathed her all aboutand a White Bow gleamed at her saddle horn. Behind her, and one oneither side, rode dusky warriors, brave in their finest trappings andturning a reverent, attentive ear to the Maid's words. Their horses'footfalls deadened by the sodden grass, slowly they came into fullerview, as a picture grows under the painter's brush.
Still the man on the black horse facing them sat still, spellbound.Could this be Kitty, his Kitty; to whom his thoughts had turned as toa half-grown, playful child, and over whom he had domineered with themasterful pride of boyhood? He was a man now, boyhood was past; but hehad quite forgotten that girlhood also passes and the child becomes awoman.
He had grown rich and strong. After her supposed death he had devotedhimself wholly to money-getting with the singleness of purpose thatnever fails of its object. He had come back to his old home to spendthe fortune he had gained, feeling himself a master among men and hisstrength that of wisdom as well as wealth.
Now all his pride and arrogance passed from him before the nobility ofthis woman approaching. For on her youthful face sat the dignity whichis higher than pride and from her beautiful eyes gleamed thebeneficent love more far-reaching than wealth.
After a moment Gaspar rode slowly forward again, and soon espying, butnot recognizing, him, the Sun Maid advanced. Then all at once theblack horse and the white galloped to a meet.
"Kitty! My Kitty!"
"KITTY! MY KITTY!" _Page 258_.]
"Gaspar!"
Their hands closed in a clasp that banished years of separation, andthe black eyes searched the blue, questioning for the one sweet answerthat rules all the world. There was a swift self-revelation in bothhearts; a consciousness that this was what the God who made them hadmeant from the beginning. With a grave exaltation too deep and toohigh for words, the pure man and the pure woman came to their destinyand accepted it. Then their hands fell apart, the black Tempestwheeled into place beside the white Snowbird, and, as on a day long inthe past, the pair passed swiftly and lightly eastward toward thelakeside village and their home.
"Ugh! The Sun Maid has found her mate!" muttered the foremost warriorgrimly, and followed with his company at a soberer pace.
The Sun Maid: A Story of Fort Dearborn Page 20
