A Daughter of the Dons | Page 7

swift. Were
he to let loose of the boulder he must be swept over the fall before he
could reach the shore. Nor could he long maintain his position against
the rush of the ice-cold waters fresh from the mountain snow fields.
He had almost made up his mind to take his chances with the fall, when
a clear cry came ringing to him:
"No suelte!"
A figure was flying down the slope toward him--the slim, graceful form
of a woman. As she ran she caught up a stick from the ground. This she
held out to him from the bank.
He shook his head.
"I would only drag you in."
She put her fingers to her mouth and gave a clear whistle. Far up on the
slope a pony lifted its head and nickered. Again her whistle shrilled,
and the bronco trotted down toward her.
"Can you hold on?" she asked in English.
He was chilled to the marrow, but he answered quietly: "I reckon."
She was gone, swift-footed as a deer, to meet the descending animal.
He saw her swing to the saddle and lean over it as the pace quickened

to a gallop.
He did not know her fingers were busy preparing the rawhide lariat that
depended from the side of the saddle. On the very bank she brought up
with a jerk that dragged her mount together, and at the same moment
slipped to the ground.
Running open the noose of the lariat, she dropped it surely over his
shoulders. The other end of the rope was fastened to the saddle-horn,
and the cow-pony, used to roping and throwing steers, braced itself
with wide-planted front feet for the shock.
"Can you get your arm through the loop?" cried the girl.
His arms were like lead, and almost powerless. With one hand he knew
he could not hang on. Nor did he try longer than for that one desperate
instant when he shot his fist through the loop. The wall of water swept
him away, but the taut rope swung him shoreward.
Little hands caught hold of him and fought with the strong current for
the body of the almost unconscious man; fought steadily and strongly,
for there was strength in the small wrists and compact muscle in the
shapely arms. She was waist deep in the water before she won, for from
above she could find no purchase for the lift.
The fisherman's opening eyes looked into dark anxious ones that gazed
at him from beneath the longest lashes he had ever seen. He had an odd
sense of being tangled up in them and being unable to escape, of being
both abashed and happy in his imprisonment. What he thought was:
"They don't have eyes like those out of heaven." What he said was
entirely different.
"Near thing. Hadn't been for you I wouldn't have made it."
At his words she rose from her knees to her full height, and he saw that
she was slenderly tall and fashioned of gracious curves. The darkness
of her clear skin was emphasized by the mass of blue-black hair from
which little ears peeped with exquisite daintiness. The mouth was

sweet and candid, red-lipped, with perfect teeth just showing in the full
arch. The straight nose, with its sensitive nostrils, proclaimed her pure
patrician.
"You are wet," he cried. "You went in after me."
She looked down at her dripping skirts, and laughter rippled over her
face like the wind in golden grain. It brought out two adorable dimples
near the tucked-in corners of her mouth.
"I am damp," she conceded.
"Why did you do it? The water might have swept you away," he chided,
coming to a sitting posture.
"And if I hadn't it might have swept you away," she answered, with a
flash of her ivory teeth.
He rose and stood before her.
"You risked your life to save mine."
"Is it not worth it, sir?"
"That ain't for me to say. The point is, you took the chance."
Her laughter bubbled again. "You mean, I took the bath."
"I expect you'll have to listen to what I've got to say, ma'am."
"Are you going to scold me? Was I precipitate? Perhaps you were
attempting suicide. Forgive, I pray."
He ignored her raillery, and told her what he thought of a courage so
fine and ready. He permitted a smile to temper his praise, as he added:
"You mustn't go jumping in the river after strangers if you don't want
them to say, 'Thank you kindly.' You find four out of five of them want
to, don't you?"

"It is not yet a habit of mine. You're the first"
"I hope I'll be the last."
She began to wring out the bottom of her skirt, and he was on