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Page 6
There were some old flour-sacks in the house. She put the eatables into
two of them, with the pan of beans on the top, adding a tin cup, and tied
them securely together. Then she went into her little shed room, and put
on 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 part of the place. The girl
stopped a moment to gain courage in full sight of the graves, and the
horse snorted, and stopped too, with his ears a-quiver, and a half-fright
in his eyes.
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