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Page 65
"Ye want somebody to take arter you--with a club," he retorted
angrily. "Ye hear! Wot's that ye're doin' now?"
She had risen and walked to the tail of the wagon. "Goin' to get
out and walk. I'm tired o' bein' jawed at."
She jumped into the road. The act was neither indignant nor
vengeful; the frequency of such scenes had blunted their sting.
She was probably "tired" of the quarrel, and ended it rudely. Her
father, however, let fly a Parthian arrow.
"Ye needn't think I'm goin' to wait for ye, ez I hev! Ye've got to
keep tetch with the team, or get left. And a good riddance of bad
rubbidge."
In reply the girl dived into the underwood beside the trail, picked
a wild berry or two, stripped a wand of young hazel she had broken
off, and switching it at her side, skipped along on the outskirts
of the wood and ambled after the wagon. Seen in the full,
merciless glare of a Californian sky, she justified her father's
description; thin and bony, her lank frame outstripped the body of
her ragged calico dress, which was only kept on her shoulders by
straps,--possibly her father's cast-off braces. A boy's soft felt
hat covered her head, and shadowed her only notable feature, a pair
of large dark eyes, looking larger for the hollow temples which
narrowed the frame in which they were set.
So long as the wagon crawled up the ascent the girl knew she could
easily keep up with it, or even distance the tired horses. She
made one or two incursions into the wood, returning like an animal
from quest of food, with something in her mouth, which she was
tentatively chewing, and once only with some inedible mandrono
berries, plucked solely for their brilliant coloring. It was very
hot and singularly close; the higher current of air had subsided,
and, looking up, a singular haze seemed to have taken its place
between the treetops. Suddenly she heard a strange, rumbling
sound; an odd giddiness overtook her, and she was obliged to clutch
at a sapling to support herself; she laughed vacantly, though a
little frightened, and looked vaguely towards the summit of the
road; but the wagon had already disappeared. A strange feeling of
nausea then overcame her; she spat out the leaves she had been
chewing, disgustedly. But the sensation as quickly passed, and she
once more sought the trail and began slowly to follow the tracks of
the wagon. The air blew freshly, the treetops began again to rock
over her head, and the incident was forgotten.
Presently she paused; she must have missed the trail, for the wagon
tracks had ended abruptly before a large boulder that lay across
the mountain trail. She dipped into the woods again; here there
were other wagon tracks that confused her. It was like her dogged,
stupid father to miss the trail; she felt a gleam of malicious
satisfaction at his discomfiture. Sooner or later, he would have
to retrace his steps and virtually come back for her! She took up
a position where two rough wheel ruts and tracks intersected each
other, one of which must be the missing trail. She noticed, too,
the broader hoof-prints of cattle without the following wheel ruts,
and instead of traces, the long smooth trails made by the dragging
of logs, and knew by these tokens that she must be near the highway
or some woodman's hut or ranch. She began to be thirsty, and was
glad, presently, when her quick, rustic ear caught the tinkling of
water. Yet it was not so easy to discover, and she was getting
footsore and tired again before she found it, some distance away,
in a gully coming from a fissure in a dislocated piece of outcrop.
It was beautifully clear, cold, and sparkling, with a slightly
sweetish taste, yet unlike the brackish "alkali" of the plains. It
refreshed and soothed her greatly, so much that, reclining against
a tree, but where she would be quite visible from the trail, her
eyes closed dreamily, and presently she slept.
When she awoke, the shafts of sunlight were striking almost level
into her eyes. She must have slept two hours. Her father had not
returned; she knew the passage of the wagon would have awakened
her. She began to feel strange, but not yet alarmed; it was only
the uncertainty that made her uneasy. Had her father really gone
on by some other trail? Or had he really hurried on and left her,
as he said he would? The thought brought an odd excitement to her
rather than any fear. A sudden sense of freedom, as if some
galling chain had dropped from her, sent a singular thrill through
her frame. Yet she felt confused with her independence, not
knowing what to do with it, and momentarily dazzled with the
possible gift.
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