A Fortune Hunter Or The Old Stone Corral Part 9

Yes; it was a blissful fact that the water was subsiding, and, that too, at a rate which soon promised relief from the danger which had threatened them with total ruin.

Clifford, ever thoughtful of the comfort of others, now built a fire in the warming stove which stood in his room, and proceeded to make coffee for the weary and chilly party that still remained up in their "Nest;"

and as the young man remembered Rob's caution regarding the water-jug, he hastily tied a rope to a bucket, and reaching over the window-ledge, soon secured a supply of the necessary fluid. A steaming hot cup of the fragrant beverage was declared by the nestlings to be "prime and delicious" in the extreme.

Warmed and refreshed now, the family looked out upon the strange scene which began to emerge in the dawning light. The valley was submerged from hill to hill; but they could see the cattle patiently grazing on the highlands, and the poultry on the accustomed trees were roosting serenely, far above the danger-line.

The surrounding country was quite rolling, and the stream headed among the hills on the west, only a few miles distant; so after the rain ceased, the flood subsided as rapidly as it had risen--a peculiarity of all Western streams.

The family watched the water subside until all the old land-marks were once more visible. The fields were still covered in shallow water; but soon the wild river shrank back into its narrow channel once again.

There had been great anxiety felt for the safety of the Moreland family, although it was known that their dwelling was situated on higher ground than the Warlow house; yet no sign of life was visible at the homestead of their neighbor, and when a loud halloo was heard from Ralph Moreland, who had ridden over to the top of one of the hills which shouldered down to the opposite side of the river, a glad cry in response was raised from the inmates of the "Nest."

It was amusing to see the bewildered way in which he peered over, trying to discover their whereabouts; and when he finally discovered the aerial family, he eagerly asked after their welfare.

When he learned of their safety, he laughed in a relieved and hearty way at their "elevated station in life."

In answer to their inquiries regarding his father's family, he said that the water had not reached the dwelling; but he was too uneasy thinking of their danger to wait longer than daylight to ride over, and, although he did not mention the fact, they saw that his horse was wet to the saddle-bow, and knew that he had swam a dangerous side-stream to gain the hill.

Maud begged him not to return until the water subsided, and she kept shouting their experience across the river, while the equally noisy youth replied in tones like a fog-horn.

Mrs. Warlow and the colonel had now descended to the "lower regions," as Clifford termed the first story of the dwelling, where he and Rob were removing a mountain of mud from the floor, and their mother soon prepared a breakfast which those hungry youths p.r.o.nounced a royal banquet.

But Maud still carried on her loud flirtation from the tree-top in tones which, Rob said, "could be heard in the next county," and the way she managed, with her lengthened description of their experience, to detain Ralph until all danger of high water on his return had pa.s.sed, showed she felt a greater interest in the rider than in the high-toned subject.

After he had at length ridden away, Maud descended to the rooms below, where her mother was, saying that "this inundation would be long remembered, and would become legendary and traditional."

"Yes," replied Clifford, gravely, "Rob and I will carry the memory of the event down to our 'remotest ancestors.'"

"Oh, I daresay it will lose nothing in the way of variations in the transmission," said Maud; "but here, you superior being, bring me a pail of water;" and Clifford marched off obediently to the muddy well.

"Why, madam," cried Rob, mockingly, as he sc.r.a.ped the mud from the floor, "have you regained your voice? I was afraid it was utterly lost;"

and he giggled at the thought of how her tones had wandered away over the prairie.

"More scrubbing and less sarcasm, young man!" she replied, with a blush, as she vigorously attacked the wall, which was stained by the water, or frescoed with mud and slime; but as the plastering was of hard coat, it soon regained its wonted purity under the drenching which was administered by the energetic and busy workers, and long before night-fall the usual neatness and order reigned in the Warlow household.

The young brood of gra.s.shoppers had all been swept away in the flood, or perished in the long, cold storm. Pious Mrs. Warlow said, "The hand of the Lord is revealed in freeing the land of those pests;" and indeed it appeared the work of Providence, which had so effectually destroyed them that no further trace was visible of the scourge which only a brief day before had threatened both the Missouri and Arkansas valleys with famine and desolation.

The weather, that for the past year had played the fickle jade, now tried to atone for her folly, and often would she burst into tears of remorse, and veil her face in summer clouds, at remembrance of the wild tantrums which had marred her equinoctial history.

In the propitious rain and suns.h.i.+ne which followed, the fields of grain emerged from their coat of rich sediment, and the lush, dank growth of the cereals ripened into great level fields of waving grain, the bronze and golden wheat and silvery sheen of barley and oats contrasting happily with the long rows of corn and emerald millet.

How often it is thus, that misfortune, on reaching a climax of superlative disaster, then a.s.sumes the form of diminutive comparison!

The migratory settlers, that had been sojourning in the Land of the Mother-in-law, now returned, re-enforced by cousins to a remote degree, and on their tattered old wagon-covers, on which had glared in letters of blue, black, and red, the legend "Kansas or BusT," and which on their subsequent flitting had been partially erased and the a.s.sertion "buStud by--" printed instead, now there glared the dauntless a.s.sertion, "kansiss is the bEsT lAnd unDur the suNn."

Chapter X.

One delightful day in June the Warlow and Moreland families, or the younger members of those households, attended a picnic which was held in a grove on the river seven miles below the Old Corral.

At an early hour Clifford, Maud, and Robbie drove down in their three-seated carriage, drawn by Clifford's iron grays, and at Squire Moreland's the party was re-enforced by Ralph, Grace, and Scott. Baskets and fis.h.i.+ng-lines were stowed away under the seats, and the frying-pan, also, was given a place of honor in the same promiscuous stow-away.

The dew was sparkling like gems on the bearded wheat, so soon to fall before the reaper's stroke, and the tender gra.s.s and softly-fluttering trees were all bathed in the mellow sunlight, as they sped down the winding road.

When our friends arrived at the grove they found that the platform, which had been erected among the trees close to the river, was crowded with a well-dressed throng, who were merrily dancing to the music of violin, organ, and guitar. After the carriage-load had been deposited on the platform, and Rob and Scott had returned from caring for the team, the boys found Clifford, Grace, Ralph, and Maud busily improving the s.h.i.+ning moments in the mazes of a cotillion.

When the music ceased, Maud was requested by one of the amateur musicians to second on the organ, which was a mere labor of love; and as she acceded to the request, she saw Rob and Grace spinning away in a waltz, dizzily gyrating about the platform with a full score of couples, all equally giddy and alike bent on extracting the most enjoyment out of the least possible time.

Clifford, who stood leaning against a tree, surveying the varied groups with that mingling of interest, amus.e.m.e.nt, and indifference, which we experience in viewing the movements of strangers who may soon become acquaintance, and possibly friends, was accosted by a handsome young man of near his own age, who greeted him very cordially.

The new-comer was Hugh Estill, the son of a wealthy ranchman who lived near, or at least but a few miles further down the valley. The two young men had become acquainted in a business way while Clifford had been buying cattle at the Estill ranch some weeks before, and it was to young Estill they owed the invitation to the picnic; so it was with a feeling of grat.i.tude, not unmixed with respect in remembrance of the lordly ranch-house and its princely domain, that young Warlow shook hands and thanked the young ranchman for his thoughtful remembrance of them on this pleasant occasion.

Robbie had by this time surrendered his partner to a young cow-boy, a son of the greatest "cattle king" in the valley, and as the young "prince" led Miss Grace out through the changes of the quadrille he seemed totally oblivious of the fact that his leather "leggins,"

jingling spurs, and silver-mounted revolver hanging from a cartridge-belt, were not wholly in keeping with the festive occasion; and as they paused in the dance, the bovine princeling, after blowing a long breath and wiping his glowing brow on his sleeve, observed:--

"That was a terrible swell--the young blood with a biled vest, who just waltzed with you. Ha! ha!--a wild rose in his b.u.t.ton-hole! Guess I'll have to get one also--by shot!"

But Miss Grace bluntly told him that a gourdvine would be far more suitable.

Robbie, who was happily unconscious of the disparaging remarks which were being made at the expense of his purple and fine linen, had joined Clifford and been introduced to the new friend, who pa.s.sed some good-natured compliments on that urchin's dancing, to which Rob replied that he was but re-dedicating his boots that so lately had been resurrected; and he proceeded to tell in his inimitable manner of the mishap that had carried his best and dearly-beloved boots to a watery grave, from which they were at length "resurrected," all filled with mud and sand. Laughing heartily, Hugh said he hoped he would s.h.i.+ne as brightly on the resurrection morn as those same "Sunday boots."

While Hugh and Bobbie had been engaged in the above frivolous and wholly unprofitable conversation, Clifford was improving the time in furtively staring at a radiant and superbly beautiful young lady who was playing the guitar near Maud; and, indeed, young Warlow might have been excused if we had detected him in the rude act, for it was a face which once seen would never be forgotten.

Her eyes of softest blue were veiled by silken, jetty lashes, and a wealth of raven-black hair rippled low on a face of creamy olive. An expression of pride mingled with the spirited vivacity of her charming face, which he thought was the most fascinating he had ever beheld.

Every detail of her dress, from the wide straw hat with its drooping spray of lilies, the creamy grenadine with its tangled pattern of the same snowy flowers and cascades of foamy lace, the cross and chain of palest coral, with ribbons of the same faint rose-hue, evinced the taste and refined instincts of a well-born and cultured lady.

There seemed to be the ineffable charm of grace and elegance in her very att.i.tude, as she stood by the organ and swept the guitar with white, tapering fingers, while through all the melody there thrilled the sweet, dripping notes, like the memory of some half-forgotten dream, which, though elusive and vague, still haunts our waking hours through all the turmoil of a busy day.

"Where have I seen that form and face before?" said Clifford, half audibly, as the last faint notes died away, and he awoke from a reverie, while a look of surprise and delight broke over his handsome face; then turning to young Estill he said, in an eager tone:--

"Who is that divine young creature who played the guitar until she set me to dreaming of old Spain?"

"Why, that musical divinity," said Estill, with a hearty laugh, "is my only sister Morelia; or Mora, as we have become used to calling her. I shall be pleased to present you, for I am truly relieved to find some one who can appreciate her music, which always sounded to me very much like cats fighting."

A moment later the young men were upon the platform, and young Estill said, in his easy, good-humored way:--

"Sister Mora, let me present my friend, Mr. Warlow, on whom your music has had the strange effect of setting him to dreaming, not of cats on the roof, but of castles in Spain,--which I have by his own confession."

She gave young Warlow a fair, dimpled hand, on which flashed one ring of rose-colored amethyst, and, after he had bowed very low, their eyes met in a swift glance of half-puzzled recognition and surprise, while a magnetic shock caused them both to tremble; but quickly recovering, she said, with a smile, while toying with a bracelet of carved Neapolitan coral:--

"My brother's criticisms are not of much value, for the sweetest sounds to his ears are the bellowings of beef-cattle."

Then, as she and Clifford sauntered out to a seat under a tree, he said:--