Read Ebook: The Brand: A Tale of the Flathead Reservation by Broderick Therese

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Ebook has 1115 lines and 65518 words, and 23 pages

As she walked she stooped to pick some shining butter-cups, and to thrust in her hair waxen leaves of the Oregon grape, with its bright yellow clusters of blossoms. So interested was she in each new leaf and stone that the crest of the long, winding road had been reached before she was aware. Lifting her eyes she caught her breath, and unconsciously lifted her hands in silent adoration of the glorious panorama spread out before her, her first real look at the "golden West."

It was golden indeed, for the sun had just dipped beyond the purple mountains and the scene was flooded with golden light. Away, away to the North and East and West stretched the vast rolling valley of the Indian Reservation, the Little Bitter Root mountains guarding it on the left and the Mission Range rising modestly on the East. She could see but the faint purple outline of the low hills to the northward. Dotted here and there were soft greens, of irrigated reaches, and trees, showing where the waters flowed and at which the grazing herds quenched their thirst. Bess was filled with awe at the magnificent scene, and reverently clasped her hands and lifted her eyes as she realized the immensity of it. When the Lord of Hosts should upon the last day assemble all the people of the earth together in judgment, what more fitting place could he choose! There he might sit on the crest of yonder mountain, with his host of angels about him, and below in the expanse of sweeping prairie, unmarred by the hand of man, adorned only by the divine touch of bountiful Providence, might convene all,--the good might here find a foretaste of heaven, and the less fortunate could hope for mercy of which they had not dreamed nor even dared to hope. Surely the Creator of all this beauty would condone the faults of poor, frail humanity who had fallen from grace in the hard and bitter struggle of life.

So she stood, entranced, in the fading light of day, unheeding the last thrilling notes of meadow lark, or the balsam-laden air wafted to her from the evergreen slopes of the mountains. Closing her eyes in a softly murmured prayer, she stood silent and motionless, and when she again looked upon the scene the grayness of early night had settled over all, softening every outline with indistinctness.

Abruptly she turned to hurry back to the hotel, when, in the distance, she heard the clatter of approaching hoofs. A little alarm of fear and loneliness stirred in her breast and she hurried down the road. All the bravado with which she had left her brother had suddenly deserted her, and she could feel the heart-throbs in her throat nearly choking her. She did not even glance up the road, although she heard the hoof-beats ever coming nearer. "What if it should be Indians!" The thought filled her with ever-increasing alarm. On she sped, as rapidly as the gradual descent permitted, then she struck a rock, and ere she could regain her footing she fell on her knees. Scarcely had the damp earth left an imprint on her skirt when she regained her feet, and now glanced behind her.

Silhouetted against the evening sky, on the very crest of the hill, she saw, in her momentary glance, a lone horseman leading a second horse. The next instant they had begun slowly to descend the hill.

Bess, seeing a huge, flat boulder to the right of the road, stepped out upon it so that she could be distinctly seen, even tho it was now rapidly growing dark. She looked up the road at the approaching trio, her face raised fearlessly and confidently, although her knees were still trembling.

As the man passed he courteously lifted his broad sombrero, speaking at the same time in a low, commanding voice to the horse he was leading. "Mauchacho, I am ashamed of you! Did you never see a lady before? You certainly--"

But his voice grew indistinct in the distance and Bess did not hear the end of the chiding the dainty animal had received for pricking up his ears and pulling back on the hackamore.

"Thank goodness, it was not an Indian after all," she said aloud, as she hurried down to the hotel.

The lone rider had already reached the steps, and she saw James heartily shaking both his hands. She stopped a moment watching the pair standing in the flood of light which poured out of the open doorway. The stranger was tall and straight as an arrow, even though his shoulders had a tired droop. Heavily fringed leather "chapps" covered his trousers, a mackinaw coat, carelessly fastened and a white silk handkerchief knotted loosely about his throat completed his unpretentious costume. She could see that his face looked dark and swarthy, but it was lighted by a smile of greeting, displaying a row of firm, even teeth.

"Well, old boy, it seems mighty good to see you once more, and to breathe this air again. I had just started to find my sister, who has strayed off somewhere, when I heard you coming," Bess heard her brother saying, "and I hope I may find her before someone lariats her for a maverick and sticks his brand on her."

The stranger laughed. "You have not forgotten all your Western jingle, even though you have been gone a year and a half. I saw a young woman up the road a way. Perhaps she is the sister you are searching."

Just then James caught sight of the girl, and hastily summoning her to come forward, introduced her to his old friend and comrade, after scolding her, half seriously, for staying away so long without telling him where she was going.

Smiling at her brother, Bess Fletcher turned to look into one of the strongest faces and the most unfathomable eyes she had ever seen. The features were unmistakably Indian, and it was hard to believe that the man was only a quarter-blood, as she knew. The square chin and wide, sensitive mouth, the dilated nostrils and prominent cheek bones stamped the face with character, strength and determination. One could see in the gloomy depths of the eyes a strange intermingling of sympathy, with the truculent gleam which had shone for centuries in the eyes of his ancestors. They impressed one, that he would either be wholly white, or entirely Indian, according to circumstances or environment.

As Bess turned to acknowledge the introduction, her hand, half raised, paused as she measured this man.

"Mr. West. But--but," she added hesitatingly, "you do not look one bit as I--"

West's lips parted in a smile as he replied, "Had you expected to see me with a blanket on and a feather in my hair? I hope you are not greatly disappointed."

For a moment she was nonplussed. "Oh, no! But you are different somehow, and if there is any disappointment it is a happy one."

"Thank you, Miss Fletcher," came in a low and almost inaudible voice.

James had been listening with interest. "I guess I had impressed her that you looked more like--" he floundered and ended tactlessly, "well, like me, than an Indian, Henry."

The "breed's" eyes closed spasmodically and his teeth shut hard before he replied. "Jim, sometimes I feel that I could willingly be skinned alive, if it would make me--like you."

Never before in all their relationship had this outburst of confidence escaped him; yet here in the presence of this beautiful, fair woman, his usual reticence and reserve for the moment left him, and the secret desire of his heart and soul escaped his lips. Angry at his loss of control, he turned and said, "I had entirely forgotten the horses. We came at a pretty swift pace from Polson. I would have reached here before train-time, but Eagle got a stone in his shoe, and I had the devil's own time getting it out. I must go and attend to their beds and supper." With this he stepped out into the gloom.

Bess had gone into the house and was standing warming herself near the stove before her brother also entered and with a shiver hastened to the fire.

"Oh, Jim, isn't he just splendid!" cried the girl. "I had no idea there were such men as he away out here in the West! No wonder you rave over him and always sing his praises."

"Do you know, Bess, if he were my own brother I could not honor and love him more. At college he was so superior in mind, ability, and morals to the majority of his colleagues, that everyone looked up to him. He was one of them and no gathering was quite complete without Henry West. I never thought of him as an Indian, and anyway--that is his greatest charm. Whatever else he may be, he certainly is a gentleman."

Bess threw her arms impulsively about his neck. Then, "Good night, dearie, I am half jealous of him already. Tell him good-night for me. I want to retire so as to be up for our early start in the morning. I am tired, more tired than I knew. Don't stay up late. You must be worn out. Brother, I believe I love this new, strange land!" With a kiss she left him and went to her room.

Hastily undressing, she was soon ready for bed. Going to the window she put up the shade, and placing her hands between her brow and the window she peered into the night. Her bosom stirred with a tremor of excitement as she whispered, "The West! The mysterious West! And he--Henry West." She flung the window wide open, and hastily getting into bed was soon asleep.

HENRY WEST'S IDEAL

The aromatic smell of coffee and bacon filled Bess' nostrils as she awoke to a glorious morning. At first she looked about in wonderment, trying to think where she was. With the sudden realization she sprang out of the snug bed, and going to the open window, filled her lungs with deep draughts of pure, mountain air. It did not take her many minutes to dress and place her belongings in the trunk, which she fastened so it would be all ready and cause no delay. One of her habits was punctuality, and she never felt that she had a right to infringe upon the time of others by keeping them waiting. She came downstairs, and going into the sitting-room to see if her brother was there, was greeted by a cheery "good-morning" from Mrs. Strong.

"Breakfast is nearly ready, Miss Fletcher. The boys are out getting the horses ready and putting the trunks on the stage."

Just then they came upon the porch, and Bess hastened forward with pleasant greetings. "James, your cheeks are getting tanned already." Turning to Henry West, she continued, "You are certainly good medicine to have such a marked effect upon my brother so soon."

"I have never aspired to the dignity of the Medicine-man, Miss Fletcher, but with your permission I shall certainly consider the matter," he replied facetiously.

The flush of shyness mounted to her cheeks. "Really, Mr. West, you--I--I did not mean it in that way," she said, trying to cover her confusion.

He felt sorry for her and assured her that she might say anything she wished concerning the Indians, as neither his mother nor himself were at all sensitive on the subject.

However, Bess was greatly relieved when just then Mabel Strong came to announce breakfast. Again their appetites seemed abnormal, and the rainbow trout, caught not an hour before in the stream which skirted the mountains, together with the delicious muffins, bacon and eggs, golden-browned potatoes and coffee, disappeared as if by magic.

Henry West ate sparingly, and watched James with gratification as he enjoyed his meal. "Jim, old boy," he said, in his low, softly modulated voice, "you'll be ready for the June round-up if you keep up that clip at grub."

"How about me, Mr. West?" asked Bess, as she helped herself to the third muffin and the second egg.

They all joined in the laugh, and then Henry West asked if he might be excused and go fetch the horses.

"Mr. West, why did you bring two horses?" asked Bess, later, as she watched the animals brought up to the porch.

"Why, I thought perhaps that James would like to ride, but I am afraid he better not attempt it just yet."

"Oh, let me! Now James," as he raised his hand in remonstrance, "you know it doesn't tire me in the least."

"Yes, dearie, but riding a few hours on the smooth pavements of New York is entirely different from a thirty-five mile trip across an Indian reservation."

A look of disappointment clouded her face, and Henry West hastened to speak: "Mauchacho is perfectly safe, and when she gets tired we can stop and wait for the stage."

Bess looked at him with grateful eyes and cried impulsively: "You de-- oh, thank you, Mr. West," correcting herself hastily.

Henry West looked at her with a sympathetic glance, and had she looked she might have read with what eloquence his eyes asked her to speak that word--dear.

James saw that any further expostulation would be useless, so he helped West adjust the stirrups.

Suddenly the 'breed looked at Bess. "But perhaps you use a side-saddle, Miss Fletcher? In that case I fear you'll have to be disappointed, and go in the stage after all."

"Oh, my, no!" she cried before the words were out of his mouth. "James taught me to ride like a boy, and besides I know how a horse should be guided across the neck." Her chin went up with a saucy tilt at her superior knowledge as she went around in front of the horse to "get acquainted," as she called it. West watched her as she rubbed her nose against the dainty animal's, unconscious of his interest.

"So your name is Mauchacho? I wonder what that means? And you have a forelock which bothers your eyes, the same as mine does. I wonder if you are used to skirts?"

West came around where she was standing, and as if in reply to the questions which she had been asking the horse, he said, "Mauchacho was my sister's horse. He has never been used at any of the round-ups. No one has been on his back, excepting myself, since--since Helen--" After a moment he went on: "I named him Mauchacho because it is the Indian word for bird. He is very swift, and in a race always takes the lead." He snapped his fingers, and the horse lifted up his front foot and daintily placed it in his master's hand.

"Shake hands with your new mistress now." Then he added: "Take him. He is yours to keep, Miss Fletcher." Before Bess could recover from her astonishment and embarrassment he added: "I notice that you have the same idiosyncrasy that Mauchacho has." Bess tried to think if his remark was a reflection on her unruly foretop, and was about to ask him, when he left her and walked to James, already seated in the stage.

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