Desert Dust Part 28

"No, sir. I was attracted by your singing," I replied. "Do I intrude?"

"Not at all, not at all." He was more hospitable. "Set if you like, in the circle of the Saints. You'll get no harm by it, that's certain."

So I seated myself just behind Rachael. A moment of constraint seemed to fall upon the group. I broke it by my inquiry, addressed to a clean profile.

"I came also to inquire after Mrs. Montoyo," I carefully said. "You have stood the journey well, this far, madam?"

Daniel turned instantly.

"Thar's no 'Mrs. Montoyo' in this camp, Mister. And I'll thank yu it's a name yu'd best leave alone."

"How so, sir?"

"Cause that's the right of it. I 'laow I've told yu."

"I'm called Edna now, by my friends," she vouchsafed, coloring. "Yes, thank you, I've enjoyed the day."

Rachael spoke softly, in her gentle English accents. I learned later that she was an English girl, convert to Mormonism.

"We Latter Day Saints know that the marriage rites of Gentiles are not countenanced by the Lord. If you would see the light you would understand.

Sister Edna is being well cared for. Whatever we have is hers."

"You will take her on with you to Salt Lake?"

"That is as Hyrum says. He has spoken of putting her on the stage at the next crossing. He will decide."

"I think I'd rather stay with the train," My Lady murmured.

"Yu will, too, by gum," Daniel p.r.o.nounced. "I'll talk with paw. Yu're goin' to travel on to Zion 'long with me. I 'laow I'm man enough to look out for ye an' I got plenty room. The hull wagon's yourn. Guess thar won't n.o.body have anything to say ag'in that." His tone was pointed, unmistakable, and I sat fuming with it.

My Lady drily acknowledged.

"You are very kind, Daniel."

"Wall, yu see I'm the best man on the draw in this hyar train. I'm a bad one, I am. My name's Bonnie Bravo. That gambler--he 'laowed to pop me but I could ha' killed him 'fore his gun was loose. I kin ride, wrastle, drive a bull team ag'in ary man from the States, an' I got the gift o' tongues.

Ain't afeared o' Injuns, neither. I'm elected. I foller the Lord an' some day I'll be a bishop. I hain't been more'n middlin' interested in wimmen, but I'm gittin' old enough, an' yu an' me'll be purty well acquainted by the time we reach Zion. Thar's a long spell ahead of us, but I aim to look out for yu, yu bet."

His blatancy was arrested by the intonation of another hymn. They all chimed in, except My Lady and me.

There is a people in the West, the world calls Mormonites in jest, The only people who can say, we have the truth, and own its sway.

Away in Utah's valleys, away in Utah's valleys, Away in Utah's valleys, the chambers of the Lord.

And all ye saints, where'er you be, from bondage try to be set free, Escape unto fair Zion's land, and thus fulfil the Lord's command, And help to build up Zion, and help to build up Zion, And help to build up Zion, before the Lord appear.

They concluded; sat with heads bowed while Hyrum, standing, delivered himself of a long-winded blessing, through his nose. It was the signal for breaking up. They stood. My Lady arose lithely; enc.u.mbered by her trailing skirt she pitched forward and I caught her. Daniel sprang in a moment, with a growl.

"None o' that, Mister. I'm takin' keer of her. Hands off."

"Don't bully me, sir," I retorted, furious. "I'm only acting the gentleman, and you're acting the boor."

I would willingly have fought him then and there, probably to my disaster, but Hyrum's heavy voice cut in.

"Who quarrels at my fire? Mark you, I'll have no more of it. Stranger, get you where you belong. Daniel, get you to bed. And you, woman, take yourself off properly and thank G.o.d that you are among his chosen and not adrift in sin."

"Good-night, sir," I answered. And I walked easily away, a triumphant warmth buoying me, for ere releasing her strong young body I had felt a note tucked into my hand.

CHAPTER XIII

SOMEONE FEARS

A note from a pretty woman always is a potential thing, no matter in what humor it may have been received. The mere possession t.i.tillates; and although the contents may be most exemplary to the eye, the mind is apt to go hay-making between the lines and no offense intended.

All the fatuousness that had led me astray to the lure of her blue eyes, upon the train and in hollow Benton, surged anew now--perhaps seasoned to present taste by my peppery defiance of Daniel. A man could do no less than bristle a little, under the circ.u.mstances; could do no less than challenge the torpedoes, like Farragut in Mobile Bay. Whether the game was worth the candle, I was not to be bullied out of my privileges by a clown swash-buckler who aped the characteristics of a pouter pigeon.

Mr. Jenks was just going to bed under the wagon. With pretext of warming up the coffee I kicked the fire together; while squatting and sipping I managed to unfold the note and read it by the flicker, my back to the camp.

All that it said, was:

If you are not disgusted with me I will walk a stretch with you on the trail, during the morning.

The engagement sent me to my blanket cogitating. When a woman proposes, one never knows precisely the reason. Anyway, I was young enough so to fancy. For a long time I lay outside the wagons, apart in the desert camp, gazing up at the twinkling stars, while the wolves whimpered around, and somewhere she slept beside the gentle Rachael, and somewhere Daniel snored, and here I conned her face and her words, elatedly finding them very pleasing.

Salt Lake was far, the Big Tent farther by perspective if not by miles. I recognized the legal rights of her husband, but no ruffling Daniel should quash the undeniable rights of Yours Truly. I indeed felt virtuous and pa.s.sing valorous, with that commonplace note in my pocket.

We all broke camp at sunrise. She rode for a distance upon the seat of Daniel's wagon--he l.u.s.tily trudging alongside. Then I marked her walking, herself; she had shortened her skirt; and presently lingering by the trail she dropped behind, leaving the wagon to lumber on, with Daniel helplessly turning head over shoulder, bereft.

"Bet you the lady up yonder is aimin' to pay you a visit," quoth friend Jenks the astute. "And Dan'l, he don't cotton to it. You ain't great shakes with a gun, I reckon?"

"I've never had use for one," said I. "But her whereabouts in the train is not a matter of shooting, is it?"

"A feller quick on the draw, like him, is alluz wantin' to practice, to keep his hand in. Anyhow I'd advise you to stay clear of her, else watch him mighty sharp. He's thinkin' of takin' a squaw."

We rolled on, in the dust, while the animals coughed and the teamsters chewed and swore. And next, here she was, idling until our outfit drew abreast.

"Mornin'," Jenks grunted, with a shortness that bespoke his disapproval; whereupon he fell back and left us.

She smiled at me.

"Will you offer me a ride, sir?"

My response was instant: a long "Whoa-oa!" in best mule-whacker. The eight-team hauled negligent, their mulish senses steeped in the drudgery of the trail; only the wheel pair flopped inquiring ears. When I hailed again, Jenks came puffing.

"What's the matter hyar?" He ran rapid eye over wagon and animals and saw nothing amiss.

"Mrs. Montoyo wishes to ride."