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Page 13
She looked into his face, and saw how worn and gray he was about his eyes;
and a sudden compassion came upon her.
"You'd better eat something first," she said, "and then we'll go and hunt
for water. There's sure to be some in the valley. We'll cook some meat."
She took the sticks from him, and made the fire in a businesslike way. He
watched her, and wondered at her grace. Who was she, and how had she
wandered out into this waste place? Her face was both beautiful and
interesting. She would make a fine study if he were not so weary of all
human nature, and especially woman. He sighed as he thought again of
himself.
The girl caught the sound, and, turning with the quickness of a wild
creature, caught the sadness in his face. It seemed to drive away much of
her fear and resentment. A half-flicker of a smile came to her lips as
their eyes met. It seemed to recognize a comradeship in sorrow. But her
face hardened again almost at once into disapproval as he answered her
look.
The man felt a passing disappointment. After a minute, during which the
girl had dropped her eyes to her work again, he said: "Now, why did you
look at me in that way? Ought I to be helping you in some way? I'm
awkward, I know, but I can obey if you'll just tell me how."
The girl seemed puzzled; then she replied almost sullenly:
"There's nothing more to do. It's ready to eat."
She gave him a piece of the meat and the last of the corn bread in the tin
cup, and placed the pan of beans beside him; but she did not attempt to
eat anything herself.
He took a hungry bite or two, and looked furtively at her.
"I insist upon knowing why you looked--" he paused and eyed her--"why you
look at me in that way. I'm not a wolf if I am hungry, and I'm not going
to eat you up."
The look of displeasure deepened on the girl's brow. In spite of his
hunger the man was compelled to watch her. She seemed to be looking at a
flock of birds in the sky. Her hand rested lightly at her belt. The birds
were coming towards them, flying almost over their heads.
Suddenly the girl's hand was raised with a quick motion, and something
gleamed in the sun across his sight. There was a loud report, and one of
the birds fell almost at his feet, dead. It was a sage-hen. Then the girl
turned and walked towards him with as haughty a carriage as ever a society
belle could boast.
"You were laughing at me," she said quietly.
It had all happened so suddenly that the man had not time to think.
Several distinct sensations of surprise passed over his countenance. Then,
as the meaning of the girl's act dawned upon him, and the full intention
of her rebuke, the color mounted in his nice, tanned face. He set down the
tin cup, and balanced the bit of corn bread on the rim, and arose.
"I beg your pardon," he said. "I never will do it again. I couldn't have
shot that bird to save my life," and he touched it with the tip of his tan
leather boot as if to make sure it was a real bird.
The girl was sitting on the ground, indifferently eating some of the
cooked pork. She did not answer. Somehow the young man felt uncomfortable.
He sat down, and took up his tin cup, and went at his breakfast again; but
his appetite seemed in abeyance.
"I've been trying myself to learn to shoot during the last week," he began
soberly. "I haven't been able yet to hit anything but the side of a barn.
Say, I'm wondering, suppose I had tried to shoot at those birds just now
and had missed, whether you wouldn't have laughed at me--quietly, all to
yourself, you know. Are you quite sure?"
The girl looked up at him solemnly without saying a word for a full
minute.
"Was what I said as bad as that?" she asked slowly.
"I'm afraid it was," he answered thoughtfully; "but I was a blamed idiot
for laughing at you. A girl that shoots like that may locate the Desert of
Sahara in Canada if she likes, and Canada ought to be proud of the honor."
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