The Angel of the Gila Part 24

"Try it," urged Brigham.

So she tried it. But she was not the only pa.s.senger who rode astride.

Michael and Patrick, the little Murphy twins, were helped to a place behind her. Wathemah then climbed up in front of her.

"Is this all?" she asked, laughingly.

"I should think it was enough," said Kenneth Hastings, who at that moment joined the company.

As he caught Esther's eye, both laughed, and the children joined from pure sympathy.

When she recovered her composure, Esther said to Kenneth, "Nothing lacking but some white muslin harness and posies on me."

At last, amid shouts and cheers, the much-bedecked horse and his human load started up the mountain road.

By three o'clock, the pulse of the Murphy household beat faster. The temperature rose to fever heat. Three-fifteen, three-thirty; still no visitors; and what is more, no signs of visitors. Every five minutes, one of the children would run down the mountain road, and return disappointed.

"Do yer s'pose they ain't comin'?" queried Kate, who had been kept at home that day to a.s.sist in the preparations.

"Oh, yes, they're comin', I think likely," answered the hostess; "but I don't see where they're keepin' theirselves."

She frequently straightened the chairs; once more she dusted the furniture with her clean ap.r.o.n; she straightened the pictures on the walls; she brought out an old and much-prized alb.u.m, sacred to Mormon prophets and elders. The broken mirror, that adorned the wall, had been cleaned and decorated with tissue paper. Mrs. Murphy stood and looked in it. She saw reflected a sharp, severe face shining like the mirror.

"I wisht I had a collar," she said. "I uster wear a collar back in York State."

Suddenly, she heard a shout from the road.

"They're comin'! They're comin'! Schoolma'am's with 'em! Quick, Maw, quick!"

There was a rush down the path, Joseph Smith leading the line.

All was expectation. The approaching horse started into a jolting trot. As he neared the barn he began to buck. The inevitable followed.

Over the horse's head went the pa.s.sengers in a heap. The twins quickly extricated themselves, and sprang up uninjured; but the two visitors lay unconscious.

"Quick, Samuel, bring water!" directed Mrs. Murphy.

In a few minutes, she dashed water in the unconscious faces, and watched anxiously. The water soon restored Esther, who had been stunned by the fall. At last Wathemah opened his eyes, and saw his teacher kneeling by his side. He tried to rise, but fell back with a cry of pain. One arm lay limp by his side. It was evident that his arm was broken.

"Is there a surgeon anywhere near Gila?" she asked anxiously.

"There's one about fifteen miles away," responded Joseph.

"Then I'll try to set Wathemah's arm myself. Several times I have helped my uncle set broken bones. Could you bring me some flat splints about this size?" she asked, showing Joseph what she wanted.

"Yes, mum," answered the boy, starting on his errand.

"And some strips of muslin, and some pins, Mrs. Murphy?" she continued.

In a few moments the articles were ready. By this time Wathemah had recovered consciousness.

"You have broken your arm, dear," she said. "I am going to set it.

It'll hurt you, but I want you to be brave and keep very still."

The child smiled faintly. But as she lifted his arm, he again fainted.

They lifted him, and carried him into the house. Then firmly, deftly, as though experienced in such work, Esther pulled and pressed the broken bone into place. The child roused with the pain, but did not cry out again. At last the arm was bandaged, and placed on a cushion.

"You must be very careful of your arm, Wathemah," she said, patting his cheek, "until the broken bone grows together."

Before the child could speak, there was a knock at the door. The children rushed to open it, and there stood Kenneth Hastings.

"I came to see if the cavalcade reached here safely," he said, smiling. "I followed a short distance behind you, until--"

Here his comprehending glance grasped the situation.

"Wathemah hurt?" he asked in quick sympathy, striding to the child's side. "I feared something might happen."

"Old Jim threw 'em," explained three or four eager voices.

Kenneth looked inquiringly at Esther.

"Were you hurt, too?" he asked in a low voice.

"I think not," she said, looking intently at Wathemah.

"I believe you _were_. Was she?" he asked, turning to Mrs. Murphy.

"She were stunned like from the fall, but was so busy settin' the boy's arm, she didn't think of herself."

"Ah." Then turning to Esther again, he questioned her.

The family observed every tone in the questions and answers.

During the setting of the arm, they had watched Esther with open-mouthed astonishment.

"I tell yer, schoolma'am," remarked Joseph, "I bet yer life yer'll hev all yer kin do in Gila, now."

"I should think she already had enough to do," suggested Kenneth.

Here Mrs. Murphy, suddenly realizing that certain amenities had been omitted, blurted out:

"This is my son, Joseph Young; my daughter, Mandy Young you've knowed already; my son Samuel Young, my son Jacob Black, yer've knowed at school, 'n' my daughter Kate Black, 'n' Brigham Murphy, aged six, 'n'

Kathleen, aged four, 'n' Nora, aged two."

Mrs. Murphy paused. Samuel at once took the floor.

"We've knowed _you_ ever sence you come. They call you the angel o'

the Gila." He seemed to swell with importance.

"A queer name, isn't it?" said Esther.