The Girl from Montana - Page 10/133

There were some old flour-sacks in the house. She put the eatables into

two of them, with the pan of beans on the top, adding a tin cup, and tied

them securely together. Then she went into her little shed room, and put

on the few extra garments in her wardrobe. They were not many, and that

was the easiest way to carry them. Her mother's wedding-ring, sacredly

kept in a box since the mother's death, she slipped upon her finger. It

seemed the closing act of her life in the cabin, and she paused and bent

her head as if to ask the mother's permission that she might wear the

ring. It seemed a kind of protection to her in her lonely situation.

There were a few papers and an old letter or two yellow with years, which

the mother had always guarded sacredly. One was the certificate of her

mother's marriage. The girl did not know what the others were. She had

never looked into them closely, but she knew that her mother had counted

them precious. These she pinned into the bosom of her calico gown. Then

she was ready.

She gave one swift glance of farewell about the cabin where she had spent

nearly all of her life that she could remember, gathered up the two

flour-sacks and an old coat of her father's that hung on the wall,

remembering at the last minute to put into its pocket the few matches and

the single candle left in the house, and went out from the cabin, closing

the door behind her.

She paused, looking down the road, and listened again; but no sound came

to her save a distant howl of a wolf. The moon rode high and clear by this

time; and it seemed not so lonely here, with everything bathed in soft

silver, as it had in the darkening cabin with its flickering candle.

The girl stole out from the cabin and stealthily across the patch of

moonlight into the shadow of the shackly barn where stamped the poor,

ill-fed, faithful horse that her brother had ridden to his death upon. All

her movements were stealthy as a cat's.

She laid the old coat over the horse's back, swung her brother's saddle

into place,--she had none of her own, and could ride his, or without any;

it made no difference, for she was perfectly at home on horseback,--and

strapped the girths with trembling fingers that were icy cold with

excitement. Across the saddle-bows she hung the two flour-sacks containing

her provisions. Then with added caution she tied some old burlap about

each of the horse's feet. She must make no sound and leave no track as

she stole forth into the great world.