At Love's Cost - Page 12/342

She raised her whip again and pointed to an opening on the left of the

valley, an opening lined on either side by a wild growth of magnificent

firs.

"It is up there. You cannot see it from here," she said. As she spoke,

she took her chin from her hand and sat upright, gathered up her reins,

and, with another of the faint inclinations of her head, by way of

adieu, rode on up the valley.

Stafford stood with his cap in his hand looking after her for a moment,

in a brown study; and, still watching the back of the slight figure

that sat the big horse with the grace of an Indian maiden, he began to

take down his rod, and, having packed it in his case and fastened his

basket, he followed her along the broken bank of the stream. Presently,

when she had gone some little distance, he heard the dogs start barking

again, the crack of her whip rang like a pistol-shot, and her bell-like

voice echoed amongst the hills, joined with the troubled baaing of the

sheep. Stafford stopped and watched her: there was evidently something

wrong; for the dogs had become excited, the sheep were running wildly;

but the girl's exquisite voice was as clear and calm as ever, and the

big horse cantered over the broken ground, taking a big boulder now and

again with lilting jump, as if he were going by his own volition and

was well up in all the points of the game. After a time the dogs got

the sheep into a heap, and the young girl rode round them; but

something still seemed to be wrong, for she got down, and, leaving the

horse quite free, made her way into the flock.

At that moment Stafford saw a sheep and a lamb break from the mob and

make for the stream; the sheep jumped to a boulder with the agility of

a goat, the lamb attempted to follow, but missed the boulder and fell

into the stream. The water was wild here and the pools deep; and as the

lamb was swept down toward Stafford he saw that it was struggling in an

ineffectual way, and that it looked like a case of drowning.

Of course he went for it at once, and wading in made a grab at it; he

got hold of it easily enough, but the lamb--a good sized

one--struggled, and in the effort to retain his hold Stafford's feet

slipped and he went headfirst into a deep pool. He was submerged for a

second only, and when he came up he had the satisfaction of feeling

that he had still got the lamb; and gripping the struggling thing

tightly in his arms, he made for the opposite bank. And looking up, saw

the girl standing waiting for him, her face alive, alight, dancing with

delight and amusement! The laughter shone in her eyes like dazzling

sunlight and quivered on the firm but delicate lips. But it was only

for a moment; before Stafford had fully taken it in and had responded

to it with one of his own short laughs, her face was grave and calm

again. "Thank you." she said, with a gravity matching her face, and

very much as one is thanked for passing the salt. "It would have

drowned if you had not been there. It is lame and couldn't swim. I saw,

from the top of the hill, that it was lame, and I was afraid something

would happen to it."