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Page 39
Night after night she lay down in strange homes, some poorer and more
forlorn than others; and day after day she took up her lonely travel
again.
Gradually, as the days lengthened, and mountains piled themselves behind
her, and rivers stretched like barriers between, she grew less and less to
dread her pursuers, and more and more to look forward to the future. It
seemed so long a way! Would it never end?
Once she asked a man whether he knew where Philadelphia was. She had been
travelling then for weeks, and thought she must be almost there. But he
said "Philadelphia? O, Philadelphia is in the East. That's a long way off.
I saw a man once who came from there."
She set her firm little chin then, and travelled on. Her clothes were much
worn, and her skin was brown as a berry. The horse plodded on with a
dejected air. He would have liked to stop at a number of places they
passed, and remain for life, what there was left of it; but he obediently
walked on over any kind of an old road that came in his way, and solaced
himself with whatever kind of a bite the roadside afforded. He was
becoming a much-travelled horse. He knew a threshing-machine by sight now,
and considered it no more than a prairie bob-cat.
At one stopping-place a good woman advised Elizabeth to rest on Sundays.
She told her God didn't like people to do the same on His day as on other
days, and it would bring her bad luck if she kept up her incessant riding.
It was bad for the horse too. So, the night being Saturday, Elizabeth
remained with the woman over the Sabbath, and heard read aloud the
fourteenth chapter of John. It was a wonderful revelation to her. She did
not altogether understand it. In fact, the Bible was an unknown book. She
had never known that it was different from other books. She had heard it
spoken of by her mother, but only as a book. She did not know it was a
book of books.
She carried the beautiful thoughts with her on the way, and pondered them.
She wished she might have the book. She remembered the name of it, Bible,
the Book of God. Then God had written a book! Some day she would try to
find it and read it.
"Let not your heart be troubled"; so much of the message drifted into her
lonesome, ignorant soul, and settled down to stay. She said it over nights
when she found a shelter in some unpleasant place or days when the road
was rough or a storm came up and she was compelled to seek shelter by the
roadside under a haystack or in a friendly but deserted shack. She thought
of it the day there was no shelter and she was drenched to the skin. She
wondered afterward when the sun came out and dried her nicely whether God
had really been speaking the words to her troubled heart, "Let not your
heart be troubled."
Every night and every morning she said "Our Father" twice, once for
herself and once for the friend who had gone out into the world, it seemed
about a hundred years ago.
But one day she came across a railroad track. It made her heart beat
wildly. It seemed now that she must be almost there. Railroads were things
belonging to the East and civilization. But the way was lonely still for
days, and then she crossed more railroads, becoming more and more
frequent, and came into the line of towns that stretched along beside the
snake-like tracks.
She fell into the habit of staying overnight in a town, and then riding on
to the next in the morning; but now her clothes were becoming so dirty and
ragged that she felt ashamed to go to nice-looking places lest they should
turn her out; so she sought shelter in barns and small, mean houses. But
the people in these houses were distressingly dirty, and she found no
place to wash.
She had lost track of the weeks or the months when she reached her first
great city, the only one she had come near in her uncharted wanderings.
Into the outskirts of Chicago she rode undaunted, her head erect, with the
carriage of a queen. She had passed Indians and cowboys in her journeying;
why should she mind Chicago? Miles and miles of houses and people. There
seemed to be no end to it. Nothing but houses everywhere and
hurried-looking people, many of them working hard. Surely this must be
Philadelphia.
A large, beautiful building attracted her attention. There were handsome
grounds about it, and girls playing some game with a ball and curious
webbed implements across a net of cords. Elizabeth drew her horse to the
side of the road, and watched a few minutes. One girl was skilful, and hit
the ball back every time. Elizabeth almost exclaimed out loud once when a
particularly fine ball was played. She rode reluctantly on when the game
was finished, and saw over the arched gateway the words, "Janeway School
for Girls."
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