Letters of a Woman Homesteader | Page 6

wanted him to do. At last, in sheer
desperation he told me the "bairn canna stand the treep," and that was
why he was so determined. I knew why, of course, but I continued to
look abused lest he gets it into his head that he can boss me. After he
had been reduced to the proper plane of humility and had explained and
begged my pardon and had told me to consult only my own pleasure
about going and coming and using his horses, only not to "expoose" the
bairn, why, I forgave him and we were friends once more.
Next day all the men left for the roundup, to be gone a week. I knew I
never could stand myself a whole week. In a little while the ladies came
past on their way to Ashland. They were all laughing and were so
happy that I really began to wish I was one of the number, but they
went their way and I kept wanting to go somewhere. I got reckless and
determined to do something real bad. So I went down to the barn and
saddled Robin Adair, placed a pack on "Jeems McGregor," then Jerrine
and I left for a camping-out expedition.
It was nine o'clock when we started and we rode hard until about four,
when I turned Robin loose, saddle and all, for I knew he would go
home and some one would see him and put him into the pasture. We
had gotten to where we couldn't ride anyway, so I put Jerrine on the
pack and led "Jeems" for about two hours longer; then, as I had come to

a good place to camp, we stopped.
While we had at least two good hours of daylight, it gets so cold here in
the evening that fire is very necessary. We had been climbing higher
into the mountains all day and had reached a level tableland where the
grass was luxuriant and there was plenty of wood and water. I
unpacked "Jeems" and staked him out, built a roaring fire, and made
our bed in an angle of a sheer wall of rock where we would be
protected against the wind. Then I put some potatoes into the embers,
as Baby and I are both fond of roasted potatoes. I started to a little
spring to get water for my coffee when I saw a couple of jack rabbits
playing, so I went back for my little shotgun. I shot one of the rabbits,
so I felt very like Leather-stocking because I had killed but one when I
might have gotten two. It was fat and young, and it was but the work of
a moment to dress it and hang it up on a tree. Then I fried some slices
of bacon, made myself a cup of coffee, and Jerrine and I sat on the
ground and ate. Everything smelled and tasted so good! This air is so
tonic that one gets delightfully hungry. Afterward we watered and
restaked "Jeems," I rolled some logs on to the fire, and then we sat and
enjoyed the prospect.
The moon was so new that its light was very dim, but the stars were
bright. Presently a long, quivering wail arose and was answered from a
dozen hills. It seemed just the sound one ought to hear in such a place.
When the howls ceased for a moment we could hear the subdued roar
of the creek and the crooning of the wind in the pines. So we rather
enjoyed the coyote chorus and were not afraid, because they don't
attack people. Presently we crept under our Navajos and, being tired,
were soon asleep.
I was awakened by a pebble striking my cheek. Something prowling on
the bluff above us had dislodged it and it struck me. By my Waterbury
it was four o'clock, so I arose and spitted my rabbit. The logs had left a
big bed of coals, but some ends were still burning and had burned in
such a manner that the heat would go both under and over my rabbit.
So I put plenty of bacon grease over him and hung him up to roast.
Then I went back to bed. I didn't want to start early because the air is

too keen for comfort early in the morning.
The sun was just gilding the hilltops when we arose. Everything, even
the barrenness, was beautiful. We have had frosts, and the quaking
aspens were a trembling field of gold as far up the stream as we could
see. We were 'way up above them and could look far across the valley.
We could see the silvery gold of the willows, the russet and bronze of
the currants, and patches of cheerful green showed