The Angel of the Gila Part 43

"Oh, that could never be," he said, "that could never be."

"You have made a mistake, Mr. Duncan," she said, quietly. "You will have to look elsewhere for a wife. Good afternoon."

Saying which, she turned the key in the door, and left him standing dumb with astonishment.

After she had gone some distance, he called after her: "Ye are makin'

the mistak o' y'r life!"

CHAPTER XVI

OVER THE MOUNTAINS

One Friday early in May, Edith Clayton suddenly became ill. Esther, returning from school, found Mrs. Clayton deeply distressed.

"Oh," she said, "if Mr. Clayton or the boys were only here to take Edith to Carlisle, to see Dr. Brown!"

"How soon will they return?"

"Two days. I'm afraid to drive myself, and Edith sick."

"Does she know the way there, Mrs. Clayton?" Esther seemed weighing the matter.

"Yes; she has gone with her father several times."

"Then if she is able to ride, and you are not afraid to trust me, I'll take her. It is Friday, and still early."

"But, my dear, it is fifteen miles away, a long fatiguing journey over rough mountain roads. You'll have to ford a river, and stay all night at a ranch beyond the ford. Besides, it is a perilous drive. Oh, dear!

I am so worried!" Here she broke down completely.

"Don't let us waste any time, Mrs. Clayton. If you think Edith can endure the journey, I am willing to run the risk. I'll take her myself."

"I believe Edith could go all right,--but--"

"Never mind anything else. Give us the safe team, and we'll start."

A spirited team was soon at the door, and they were placing wraps, cushions and luncheon in the carriage. Then Esther and Edith started.

For a few miles, they repeatedly crossed bridges over the Gila, then their road followed the foothills for some distance. The hills were still yellow with the silky California poppies. Green alfalfa fields, in the valley below, looked like bits of Eden let down into the grimly majestic scene. Higher the travelers rode, and higher. At a sudden turn, they came upon the narrow and perilous canyon road, where they drove slowly, drinking in the grandeur of it all.

The tinkling of a cowbell warned them that they were approaching a human habitation. As they rounded a sharp jag, they came upon a picturesque bridge, near the farther end of which they caught a glimpse of a pine-slab cabin, half hidden by tremulous aspens. A little Mexican child stood near the door, helping himself to the pink and white blossoms of the wild sweet pea. Near by, a white cow, with her clanking bell, browsed on the green turf that bordered that side of the stream.

On and up the mountain, the travelers rode, into the heart of the Rockies.

"Just look at that rose-colored sandstone," said Esther. "How exquisitely veined! See the gigantic, overhanging ma.s.s of rock beyond!

And oh, the cactus blossoms! How glorious! The large scarlet blossoms!

See?"

"Yes. Exquisite, aren't they? But look at those cliffs over in that direction, Miss Bright," said Edith, pointing to her left, as she spoke. "Do you see anything unusual?"

"Yes. Quaint figures. Indian art, isn't it? I do wish I could see it nearer by."

And so they traveled on, reveling in the beauty everywhere about them.

"Does it ever occur to you," asked Edith, "that G.o.d is nearer to us here, in the mountains, than anywhere else?"

"Yes. Does G.o.d seem nearer to you here?"

"Much nearer. When we went home to England the last time, I missed something. It seemed to me it was G.o.d. We went to the churches and heard great preachers, but they did not make me feel the presence of G.o.d as the mountains do. When I come out into the open, as you call it, and see the mountains, it seems to me I could reach my hand out and find G.o.d."

"The mountains do great things for us," said Esther, looking up at the jagged cliffs.

Suddenly there was a whir of wings. An enormous eagle roused from his perch on the rocks, made a bold swoop, and soared grandly above their heads.

"Look, look!" cried Esther, in excitement. "An eagle, isn't it? Oh, you splendid creature! How magnificently free!" Her cheeks flushed.

"Did you never see one before?"

"Yes, stuffed; but this bird is alive and free." She looked at Edith.

"You look pale, Edith," she said, with sudden alarm. "Are you feeling worse?"

"No. Only tired. We'll soon reach the clearing, and just beyond that, the ford; and just beyond that, the house. So I can soon rest."

Esther drew a deep breath, and said:

"I feel as though the spirit of the eagle had entered into me."

But darkness was coming on apace. To their relief they soon entered the clearing, and reached the bank of the stream, where they halted a few minutes. The horses p.r.i.c.ked up their ears.

"Do you think the ford is dangerous now, Edith?"

"It is usually quite safe at this season, unless there has been a cloudburst. The horses know the ford, and are used to crossing. Papa gives them the rein, and they have always brought him safely through.

We had better place our luggage on the seat," she said, "and keep our feet up. Tuck your skirts up, or you'll get a drenching."

Then she leaned forward, and called each horse by name.

In a moment they were in the river, with the water up to the horses'

shoulders. They felt the carriage swing with the current, and felt the team struggling with the force of the waters. Then Esther called to the horses, in tones that showed no fear, "Well done, Rocket! On, Star, on!"

It seemed hours to her before the faithful animals were once more on the sh.o.r.e, and safe.

"Were you frightened, Miss Bright?" asked Edith.

"Just a little. I never forded a stream before. But how n.o.bly the horses behaved!"