"I am eating your food that you had prepared for your journey, and I have
not even said, 'Thank you' yet, nor asked if you have enough to carry you
to a place where there is more. Where are you going?"
The girl did not answer at once; but, when she did, she spoke
thoughtfully, as if the words were a newly made vow from an impulse just
received.
"I am going to school," she said in her slow way, "to learn to 'sight' the
Desert of Sahara."
He looked at her, and his eyes gave her the homage he felt was her due;
but he said nothing. Here evidently was an indomitable spirit, but how did
she get out into the wilderness? Where did she come from, and why was she
alone? He had heard of the freedom of Western women, but surely such girls
as this did not frequent so vast a waste of uninhabited territory as his
experience led him to believe this was. He sat studying her.
The brow was sweet and thoughtful, with a certain keen inquisitiveness
about the eyes. The mouth was firm; yet there were gentle lines of grace
about it. In spite of her coarse, dark calico garb, made in no particular
fashion except with an eye to covering with the least possible fuss and
trouble, she was graceful. Every movement was alert and clean-cut. When
she turned to look full in his face, he decided that she had almost
beautiful eyes.
She had arisen while he was watching her, and seemed to be looking off
with sudden apprehension. He followed her gaze, and saw several dark
figures moving against the sky.
"It's a herd of antelope," she said with relief; "but it's time we hit the
trail." She turned, and put her things together with incredible swiftness,
giving him very little opportunity to help, and mounted her pony without
more words.
For an hour he followed her at high speed as she rode full tilt over rough
and smooth, casting furtive, anxious glances behind her now and then,
which only half included him. She seemed to know that he was there and was
following; that was all.
The young man felt rather amused and flattered. He reflected that most
women he knew would have ridden by his side, and tried to make him talk.
But this girl of the wilderness rode straight ahead as if her life
depended upon it. She seemed to have nothing to say to him, and to be
anxious neither to impart her own history nor to know his.