The Girl from Montana | Page 6

the few extra garments in her wardrobe. They were not many, and
that was the easiest way to carry them. Her mother's wedding-ring,
sacredly kept in a box since the mother's death, she slipped upon her
finger. It seemed the closing act of her life in the cabin, and she paused
and bent her head as if to ask the mother's permission that she might
wear the ring. It seemed a kind of protection to her in her lonely
situation.
There were a few papers and an old letter or two yellow with years,
which the mother had always guarded sacredly. One was the certificate
of her mother's marriage. The girl did not know what the others were.
She had never looked into them closely, but she knew that her mother
had counted them precious. These she pinned into the bosom of her
calico gown. Then she was ready.
She gave one swift glance of farewell about the cabin where she had
spent nearly all of her life that she could remember, gathered up the
two flour-sacks and an old coat of her father's that hung on the wall,
remembering at the last minute to put into its pocket the few matches

and the single candle left in the house, and went out from the cabin,
closing the door behind her.
She paused, looking down the road, and listened again; but no sound
came to her save a distant howl of a wolf. The moon rode high and
clear by this time; and it seemed not so lonely here, with everything
bathed in soft silver, as it had in the darkening cabin with its flickering
candle.
The girl stole out from the cabin and stealthily across the patch of
moonlight into the shadow of the shackly barn where stamped the poor,
ill-fed, faithful horse that her brother had ridden to his death upon. All
her movements were stealthy as a cat's.
She laid the old coat over the horse's back, swung her brother's saddle
into place,--she had none of her own, and could ride his, or without any;
it made no difference, for she was perfectly at home on horseback,--and
strapped the girths with trembling fingers that were icy cold with
excitement. Across the saddle-bows she hung the two flour-sacks
containing her provisions. Then with added caution she tied some old
burlap about each of the horse's feet. She must make no sound and
leave no track as she stole forth into the great world.
The horse looked curiously down and whinnied at her, as she tied his
feet up clumsily. He did not seem to like his new habiliments, but he
suffered anything at her hand.
"Hush!" she murmured softly, laying her cold hands across his nostrils;
and he put his muzzle into her palm, and seemed to understand.
She led him out into the clear moonlight then, and paused a second,
looking once more down the road that led away in front of the cabin;
but no one was coming yet, though her heart beat high as she listened,
fancying every falling bough or rolling stone was a horse's hoof-beat.
There were three trails leading away from the cabin, for they could
hardly be dignified by the name of road. One led down the mountain
toward the west, and was the way they took to the nearest clearing five

or six miles beyond and to the supply store some three miles further.
One led off to the east, and was less travelled, being the way to the
great world; and the third led down behind the cabin, and was desolate
and barren under the moon. It led down, back, and away to desolation,
where five graves lay stark and ugly at the end. It was the way they had
taken that afternoon.
She paused just an instant as if hesitating which way to take. Not the
way to the west--ah, any but that! To the east? Yes, surely, that must be
the trail she would eventually strike; but she had a duty yet to perform.
That prayer was as yet unsaid, and before she was free to seek safety--if
safety there were for her in the wide world--she must take her way
down the lonely path. She walked, leading the horse, which followed
her with muffled tread and arched neck as if he felt he were doing
homage to the dead. Slowly, silently, she moved along into the river of
moonlight and dreariness; for the moonlight here seemed cold, like the
graves it shone upon, and the girl, as she walked with bowed head,
almost fancied she saw strange misty forms flit past her in the night.
As they came in sight of the graves, something dark and wild with
plumy tail slunk away into the shadows, and seemed a