That Girl Montana
“You’ll think I’m bad, because I talk this way,” she continued, “but I ain’t – I ain’t. I’ve fought when I had to, and – and I’d swear – sometimes; but that’s all the bad I ever did do. I won’t any more if you take me with you. I – I can cook and keep house for you, if you hain’t got folks of your own, and – I do want to go with you.”
“Come, love! come!Won’t you go along with me?And I’ll take you backTo old Tennessee!”The words of the handsome singer came clearly back to them. Overton, about to speak, heard the words of the song, and a little smile, half-bitter, half-sad, touched his lips as he looked at her.
“I see,” he said, quietly, “you care more about going to-day, than you did when I talked to you last night. Well, that’s all right. And I reckon you can make coffee for me as long as you like. That mayn’t be long, though, for some of the young fellows will be wanting you to keep house for them before many years, and you’ll naturally do it. How old are you?”
“I’m – past sixteen,” she said, in a deprecating way, as though ashamed of her years and her helplessness. “I’m old enough to work, and I will work if I get where it’s any use trying. But I won’t keep house for any one but you.”
“Won’t you?” he asked, doubtfully. “Well, I’ve an idea you may. But we’ll talk about that when the time comes. This morning I wanted to talk of something else before we start – you and Max and I – down into Idaho. I’m not asking the name of the man you hate so; but if I am to acknowledge him as an old acquaintance of mine, you had better tell me what business he was in. You see, it might save complications if any one should run across us some day and know.”
“No one will know me,” she said, decidedly. “If I didn’t know that, I’d stay right here, I think. And as to him, my fond parent,” and she made a grimace – “I guess you can call him a prospector and speculator – either of those would be correct. I think they called him Jim, when he was christened.”
“Akkomi said last night you had been on the trail hunting for some one. Was it a friend, or – or any one I could help you look for?”
“No, it wasn’t a friend, and I’m done with the search and glad of it. Did you,” she added, looking at him darkly, “ever put in time hunting for any one you didn’t want to find?”
Without knowing it, Miss Rivers must have touched on a subject rather sensitive to her guardian, for his face flushed, and he gazed at her with a curious expression in his eyes.
“Maybe I have, little girl,” he said at last. “I reckon I know how to let your troubles alone, anyway, if I can’t help them. But I must tell you, Max – Max Lyster, you know – will be the only one very curious about your presence here – as to the route you came, etc. You had better be prepared for that.”
“It won’t be very hard,” she answered, “for I came over from Sproats’ Landing, up to Karlo, and back down here.”
“Over from Sproats – you?” he asked, looking at her nervously. “I heard nothing of a white girl making that trip. When, and how did you do it?”
“Two weeks ago, and on foot,” was the laconic reply. “As I had only a paper of salt and some matches, I couldn’t afford to travel in high style, so I footed it. I had a ring and a blanket, and I traded them up at Karlo for an old tub of a dugout, and got here in that.”
“You had some one with you?”
“I was alone.”
Overton looked at her with more of amazement than she had yet inspired in him. He thought of that indescribably wild portage trail from the Columbia to the Kootenai. When men crossed it, they preferred to go in company, and this slip of a girl had dared its loneliness, its dangers alone. He thought of the stories of death, by which the trail was haunted; of prospectors who had verged from that dim path and had been lost in the wilderness, where their bones were found by Indians or white hunters long after; of strange stories of wild beasts; of all the weird sounds of the jungles; of places where a misstep would send one lifeless to the jagged feet of huge precipices. And through that trail of terror she had walked – alone!
“I have nothing more to ask,” he said briefly. “But it is not necessary to tell any of the white people you meet that you made the trip alone.”
“I know,” she said, humbly, “they’d think it either wasn’t true – or – or else that it oughtn’t to be true. I know how they’d look at me and whisper things. But if – if you believe me – ”
She paused uncertainly, and looked up at him. All the rebellion and passion had faded out of her eyes now: they were only appealing. What a wild, changeable creature she was with those quick contrasts of temper! wild as the name she bore – Montana – the mountains. Something like that thought came into his mind as he looked at her.
He had gathered other wild things from his trips into the wilderness; young bears with which to enliven camp life; young fawns that he had loved and cared for, because of the beauty of eyes and form; even a pair of kittens had been carried by him across into the States, and developed into healthy, marauding panthers. One of these had set its teeth through the flesh of his hand one day ere he could conquer and kill it, and his fawns, cubs and smaller pets had drifted from him back to their forests, or else into the charge of some other prospector who had won their affections.
He remembered them, and the remembrance lent a curious character to the smile in his eyes, as he held out his hand to her.
“I do believe you, for it is only cowards who tell lies; and I don’t believe you’d make a good coward – would you?”
She did not answer, but her face flushed with pleasure, and she looked up at him gratefully. He seemed to like that better than words.
“Akkomi called you ‘Girl-not-Afraid,’” he continued. “And if I were a redskin, too, I would look up an eagle feather for you to wear in your hair. I reckon you’ve heard that only the braves dare wear eagle feathers.”
“I know, but I – ”
“But you have earned them by your own confession,” he said, kindly, “and some day I may run across them for you. In the meantime, I have only this.”
He held out a beaded belt of Indian manufacture, a pretty thing, and she opened her eyes in glad surprise, as he offered it to her.
“For me? Oh, Dan! – Mr. Overton – I – ”
She paused, confused at having called him as the Indians called him; but he smiled understandingly.
“We’ll settle that name business right here,” he suggested. “You call me Dan, if it comes easier to you. Just as I call you ’Tana. I don’t know ’Mr. Overton’ very well myself in this country, and you needn’t trouble yourself to remember him. Dan is shorter. If I had a sister, she’d call me Dan, I suppose; so I give you license to do so. As to the belt, I got it, with some other plunder, from some Columbia River reds, and you use it. There is some other stuff in Akkomi’s tepee you’d better put on, too; it’s new stuff – a whole dress – and I think the moccasins will about fit you. I brought over two pairs, to make sure. Now, don’t get any independent notions in your head,” he advised, as she looked at him as though about to protest. “If you go to the States as my ward, you must let me take the management of the outfit. I got the dress for an army friend of mine, who wanted it for his daughter; but I guess it will about fit you, and she will have to wait until next trip. Now, as I’ve settled our business, I’ll be getting back across the river, so until to-morrow, klahowya.”
She stood, awkward and embarrassed, before him. No words would come to her lips to thank him. She had felt desolate and friendless for so long, and now when his kindness was so great, she felt as if she should cry if she spoke at all. Just as she had cried the night before at his compassionate tones and touch.
Suddenly she bent forward for the belt, and with some muttered words he could not distinguish, she grasped his big hand in her little brown fingers, and touching it with her lips, twice – thrice – turned and ran away as swiftly as the little Indians who had run on the shore.
The warm color flushed all over Dan’s face, as he looked after her. Of course, she was only a little girl, but he was devoutly glad Max was not in sight. Max would not have understood aright. Then his eyes traveled back to his hand, where her mouth had touched it. Her kiss had fallen where the scar of the panther’s teeth was.
And this, also, was a wild thing he was taking from the forests!
CHAPTER V.
AT SINNA FERRY
“It has been young wolves, an’ bears, an’ other vicious pets – every formed thing, but snakes or redskins, and at last it’s that!”
“Tush, tush, captain! Now, it’s not so bad. Why, I declare, now, I was kind of pleased when I got sight of her. She’s white, anyway, and she’s right smart.”
“Smart!” The captain sniffed, dubiously. “We’ll get a chance to see about that later on, Mrs. Huzzard. But it’s like your – hem! tender heart to have a good word for all comers, and this is only another proof of it.”
“Pshaw! Now, you’re making game, I guess. That’s what you’re up to, captain,” and Mrs. Huzzard attempted a chaste blush and smile, and succeeded in a smirk. “I’m sure, now, that to hem a few neckties an’ sich like for you is no good reason for thinking I’m doing the same for every one that comes around. No, indeed; my heart ain’t so tender as all that.”
The captain, from under his sandy brows, looked with a certain air of satisfaction at the well rounded personality of Mrs. Huzzard. His vanity was gently pleased – she was a fine woman!
“Well, I mightn’t like it so well myself if I thought you’d do as much for any man,” he acknowledged. “There’s too many men at the Ferry who ain’t fit even to eat one of the pies you make.”
Mrs. Huzzard was fluting the edge of a pie at that moment, and looked across the table at the captain, with arch meaning.
“Maybe so; but there’s a right smart lot of fine-looking fellows among them, too; there’s no getting around that.”
The unintelligible mutter of disdain that greeted her words seemed to bring a certain comfort to her widowed heart, for she smiled brightly and flipped the completed pie aside, with an airy grace.
“Now – now, Captain Leek, you can’t be expecting common grubbers of men to have all the advantages of manners that you’ve got. No, sir; you can’t. They hain’t had the bringing up. They hain’t had the schooling, and they hain’t had the soldier drills to teach them to carry themselves like gentlemen. Now, you’ve had all that, and it’s a sight of profit to you. But don’t be too hard on the folks that ain’t jest so finished like as you. There’s that new Rivers girl, now – she ain’t a bad sort, though it is queer to see your boy Dan toting such a stranger into camp, for he never did seem to take to girls much – did he?”
“It’s not so easy to tell what he’s taken to in his time,” returned the captain, darkly. “You know he isn’t my own boy, as I told you before. He was eight years old when I married his mother, and after her death he took the bit in his own teeth, and left home. No great grief to me, for he wasn’t a tender boy to manage!” And Captain Leek heaved a sigh for the martyrdom he had lived through.
“Oh, well, but see what a fine man he’s turned out, and I’m sure no own son could be better to you,” for Mrs. Huzzard was one of the large, comfortable bodies, who never see any but the brightest side of affairs, and a good deal of a peacemaker in the little circle where she had taken up her abode. “Indeed, now, captain, you’ll not meet many such fine fellows in a day’s tramp.”
“If she’d even been a real Indian,” he continued, discontentedly, “it would have been easier to manage her – to – to put her in some position where she could earn her own living; for by Dan’s words (few enough, too!) I gather that she has no money back of her. She’ll be a dead weight on his hands, that’s what she’ll be, and an expensive savage he’ll find her, I’ll prophesy.”
“Like enough. Young ones of any sort do take a heap of looking after. But she’s smart, as I said before, and I do think it’s a sight better to make room for a likely young girl than to be scared most to death with young wolves and bears tied around for pets. I was all of a shiver at night on account of them. I’ll take the girl every time. She won’t scratch an’ claw at folks, anyway.”
“Maybe not,” added the captain, who was too contented with his discontent to let go of it at once. “But no telling what a young animal like that may develop into. She has no idea whatever of duty, Mrs. Huzzard, or of – of veneration. She contradicted me squarely this morning when I made some comment about those beastly redskins; actually set up her ignorance against my years of service under the American flag, Mrs. Huzzard. Yes, madame! she did that,” and Captain Leek arose in his wrath and tramped twice across the room, halting again near her table and staring at her as though defying her to justify that.
When he arose, one could see by the slight unsteadiness in his gait that the cane in his hand was for practical use. His limp was not a deformity – in fact, it made him rather more interesting because of it; people would notice or remember him when nothing else in his personality would cause them to do so.
For Captain Alphonso Leek was not a striking-looking personage. His blue eyes had a washed-out, querulous expression. His sandy whiskers had the appearance of having been blown back from his chin, and lodged just in front of his ears. An endeavor had been made to train the outlying portions of his mustache in line with the lengthy, undulating “mutton chops;” but they had, for well-grounded reasons, failed to connect, and the effect was somewhat spoiled by those straggling skirmishers, bristling with importance but waiting in vain for recruits. The top of his head had got above timber line and glistened in the sun of early summer that streamed through the clear windows of Mrs. Huzzard’s back room.
But as that head was generally covered by a hat that sported a cord and tassel, and as his bulging breastbone was covered by a dark-blue coat and vest, on which the brass buttons shone in real military fashion – well, all those things had their weight in a community where few men wore a coat at all in warm weather.
Mrs. Huzzard, in the depths of her being, thought it would be a fine thing to go back to Pennsylvania as “Mrs. Captain,” even if the captain wasn’t as forehanded as she’d seen men.
Even the elegant way in which he could do nothing and yet diffuse an air of importance, was impressive to her admiring soul. The clerical whiskers and the military dress completed the conquest.
But Mrs. Huzzard, having a bit of native wisdom still left, knew he was a man who would need managing, and that the best way was not to let his opinion rule her in all things; therefore, she only laughed cheerily at his indignation.
“Well, captain, I can’t say but she did flare up about the Indians, when you said they were all thieves and paupers, stealing from the Government, and all that. But then, by what she says, she has knowed some decent ones in her time – friends of hers; an’ you know any one must say a good word for a friend. You’d do that yourself.”
“Maybe; I don’t say I wouldn’t,” he agreed. “But I do say, the friends would not be redskins. No, madame! They’re no fit friends for a gentleman to cultivate; and so I have told Dan. And if this girl owns such friends, it shows plainly enough that the class she belongs to is not a high one. Dan’s mother was a lady, Mrs. Huzzard! She was my wife, madame! And it is a distress for me to see any one received into our family who does not come up to that same level. That is just the state of the case, and I maintain my position in the matter; let Dan take on all the temper he likes about it.”
The lady of the pies did not respond to his remarks at once. She had an idea that she herself might fall under the ban of Captain Leek’s discriminating eyes, and be excluded from that upper circle of chosen humanity to which he was born and bred. He liked her pies, her flap-jacks, and even the many kinds of boiled dinners she was in the habit of preparing and garnishing with “dumplings.” So far as his stomach was concerned, she could rule supreme, for his digestion was of the best and her “filling” dishes just suited him. But Lorena Jane Huzzard had read in the papers some romances of the “gentle folk” he was fond of speaking of in an intimate way. The gentle folk in her kind of stories always had titles, military or civil, and were generally English lords and ladies; the villains, as generally, were French or Italian. But think as she might over the whole list, she could remember none in which the highbred scion of blue blood had married either a cook or a milliner. One might marry the milliner if she was very young and madly beautiful, but Lorena Jane was neither. She remembered also that beautiful though the milliner or bailiff’s daughter, or housekeeper’s niece might be, it was only the villain in high life who married her. Then the marriage always turned out at last to be a sham, and the milliner generally died of a broken heart.
So Mrs. Huzzard sighed and, with a thoughtful face, stirred up the batter pudding.
Captain Leek had given her food for reflection of which he was little aware, and it was quite a little while before she remembered to answer his remarks.
“So Mr. Dan is showing temper, too, is he? Well – well – that’s a pity. He’s a good boy, captain. I wouldn’t waste my time to go against him, if I was you, and there he is now. Good-morning, Mr. Dan! Come right in! Breakfast over, but I’ll get you up a bite at any time, and welcome. It does seem right nice for you to be back in town again.”
Overton entered at her bidding, and smiled down from his tall stature to the broad, good-natured face she turned to him.
“Breakfast! Why, I’m thinking more about dinner, Mrs. Huzzard. I was up in the hills last night, and had a camp breakfast before you city folks were stirring. Where’s ’Tana?”
A dubious sniff from Captain Leek embarrassed Mrs. Huzzard for a moment. She thought he meant to answer and hesitated to give him a chance. But the sniff seemed to express all he wanted to say, and she flushed a little at its evident significance.
“Well, what’s the matter now?” demanded the younger man, impatiently, “where is she – do you know?”
“Oh – why, yes – of course we do,” said Mrs. Huzzard hurriedly. “I didn’t mean to leave you without an answer – no, indeed. But the fact is, the captain is set against something I did this morning, but I do hope you won’t be. Whatever they know or don’t know in sussiety, the girl was ignorant of it as could be when she asked to go, and so was I when I let her. That’s the gospel truth, and I do hope you won’t have hard feeling against me for it.”
He came a step nearer them both, and looked keenly from one to the other – even a little threateningly into the watchful eyes of Captain Leek.
“Let her go! What do you mean? Where – Out with it!”
“Well, then, it was on the river she went, in one of them tiltuppy Indian boats that I’m deathly afraid of. But Mr. Lyster, he did promise faithfully he’d take good care of her. And as she’d seemed a bit low-spirited this morning, I thought it ’ud do her good, and I part told her to run along. And to think of its being improper for them to go together – alone! Well, then, I never did – that’s all!”
“Is it?” and Overton drew a long breath as of relief and laughed shortly. “Well, you are perfectly right, Mrs. Huzzard. There is nothing wrong about it, and don’t you be worried into thinking there is. Max Lyster is a gentleman – didn’t you ever happen to know one, dad? Heavens! what a sinner you must have been in your time, if you can’t conceive two young folks going out for an innocent boat ride. If any ’sky pilot’ drifts up this way, I’ll explain your case to him – and ask for some tracts. Why, man, your conscience must be a burden to you! I understand, now, how it comes I find your hair a little scarcer each time I run back to camp.”
He had seated himself, and leaning back, surveyed the irate captain as though utterly oblivious of that gentleman’s indignation, and then turned his attention to Mrs. Huzzard, who was between two fires in her regret that the captain should be ridiculed and her joy in Overton’s commendation of herself. The captain had dismayed her considerably by a monologue on etiquette while she was making the pies, and she had inwardly hoped that the girl and her handsome escort would return before Overton, for vague womanly fears had been awakened in her heart by the opinions of the captain. To be sure, Dan never did look at girls much, and he was as “settled down” as any old man yet. The girl was pretty, and there was a bit of mystery about her. Who could tell what her guardian intended her for? This question had been asked by Captain Leek. Dan was very close-lipped about her, and his reticence had intensified the mystery regarding his ward. Mrs. Huzzard had seen wars of extermination started for a less worthy reason than pretty Montana, and so she had done some quiet fretting over the question until ’Tana’s guardian set her free from worries by his hearty words.
“Don’t you bother your precious head, or ’Tana’s, with ideas of what rules people live by in a society of the cities thousands of miles away,” he advised her. “It’s all right to furnish guards or chaperons where people are so depraved as to need them.”
This with a turn of his eyes to the captain, who was gathering himself up with a great deal of dignity.
“Good-morning, Mrs. Huzzard,” he said, looking with an unapproachable air across Dan’s tousled head. “If my stepson at times forgets what is due a gentleman in your house, do not fancy that I reflect on you in the slightest for it. I regret that he entertains such ideas, as they are totally at variance with the rules by which he was reared. Good-morning, madame.”
Mrs. Huzzard clasped her hands and gazed with reproach at Overton, but at the same time she could not repress a sigh of relief.
“Well, now, he is good-natured to take it like that, and speak so beautiful,” she exclaimed, admiringly; “and you surely did try any man’s patience, Mr. Dan. Shame on you!”
But Dan only laughed and held up his finger warningly.
“You’ll marry that man some day, if I don’t put a stop to this little mutual admiration society I find here on my return,” he said, and caught her sleeve as she tried to pass him. “Now don’t you do it, Mrs. Huzzard. You are too nice a woman and too much of a necessity to this camp for any one man to build up a claim for you. Just think what will happen if you do marry him! Why, you’ll be my stepmother! Doesn’t the prospect frighten you?”
“Oh, stop your nonsense, Mr. Dan! I declare you do try a body’s patience. You are too big to send to bed without your supper, or I vow I’d try it and see if it would tame you any. The captain is surely righteous mad.”
“Then let him attend to his postoffice instead of interfering with your good cooking. Jim Hill said yesterday he guessed the postoffice had moved to your hotel, and the boys all ask me when the wedding is to be.”
She blushed with a certain satisfaction, but tossed her head provokingly.
“Well, now, you can just tell them it won’t be this week, Mr. Dan Overton; so you can quit your plaguing. Who knows but they may be asking the same about you, if you keep fetching such pretty girls into camp? Oh, I guess you don’t like bein’ plagued any more than other folks.”
For Overton’s smile had vanished at her words, and a tiny wrinkle crept between his brows. But when she commented on it, he recovered himself, and answered carelessly:
“But I don’t think I will keep on bringing pretty girls into camp – that is, I scarcely think it will grow into a steady habit,” he said, and met her eyes so steadily that she dismissed all idea of any heart interest in the girl. “But I’d rather ’Tana didn’t hear any chaff of that sort. You know what I mean. The boys, or any one, is like enough to joke about it at first; but when they learn ’for keeps,’ that I’m not a marrying man, they’ll let up. As she grows older, there’ll be enough boys to bother her in camp without me. All I want is to see that she is looked after right; and that’s what I’m in here to talk about this morning.”
“Well, now, I’m right glad to help you all I can – which ain’t much, maybe, for I never did have a sight of schooling. But I can learn her the milliner trade – though it ain’t much use at the Ferry yet; but it’s always a living, anyway, for a woman in a town. And as to cookin’ and bakin’ – ”