CHAPTER XXI
TWO IN THE DESERT
How long it was I hardly knew, for I had slink into a sort of dullapathy in which one day was much like another; but at last we gatheredour crippled party together and broke camp, our wounded men in thewagons, and so slowly passed on westward, up the trail. We supposed,what later proved to be true, that the Sioux had raided in the valley onboth sides of us, and that the scattered portions of the army had allthey could do, while the freight trains were held back until the roadwas clear.
I wearied of the monotony of wagon travel, and without council with any,finally, weak as I was, called for my horse and rode on slowly with thewalking teams. I had gone for some distance before I heard hoofs on thesand behind me.
"Guess who it is," called a voice. "Don't turn your head."
"I can't turn," I answered; "but I know who it is."
She rode up alongside, where I could see her; and fair enough she was tolook upon, and glad enough I was to look. She was thinner now with thisprairie life, and browner, and the ends of her hair were stillyellowing, like that of outdoors men. She still was booted and glovedafter the fashion of civilization, and still elsewise garbed in theaboriginal costume, which she filled and honored graciously. The metalcylinders on her leggins rattled as she rode.
"You ought not to ride," she said. "You are pale."
"You are beautiful," said I; "and I ride because you are beautiful."
Her eyes were busy with her gloves, but I saw a sidelong glance. "I donot understand you," she said, demurely.
"I could not sit back there in the wagon and think," said I. "I knewthat you would be riding before long, and I guessed I might, perhaps,talk with you."
She bit her lip and half pulled up her horse as if to fall back. "Thatwill depend," was her comment. But we rode on, side by side, knee toknee.
Many things I had studied before then, for certain mysteries had come tome, as to many men, who wish logically to know the causes of greatphenomena. From boyhood I had pondered many things. I had lain on myback and looked up at the stars and wondered how far they were, and howfar the farthest thing beyond them was. I had wondered at thatindeterminate quotient in my sums, where the same figure came, alwaysthe same, running on and on. I used to wonder what was my soul, and Ifancied that it was a pale, blue flaming oblate, somewhere near my backand in the middle of my body--such was my boyish guess of what they toldme was a real thing. I had pondered on that compass of the skies bywhich the wild fowl guide themselves. I had wondered, as a child, howfar the mountains ran. As I had grown older I had read the law, read ofthe birth of civilization, pondered on laws and customs. Declaring thatI must know their reasons, I had read of marriages in many lands, andmany times had studied into the questions of dowry and bride-price, andconsent of parents, and consent of the bride--studied marriage as acovenant, a contract, as a human and a so-called divine thing. I hadquestioned the cause of the old myth that makes Cupid blind. I haddelved deep as I might in law, and history and literature, seeking tosolve, as I might--what?
Ah, witless! it was to solve this very riddle that rode by my side now,to answer the question of the Sphinx. What had come of all my studies?Not so much as I was learning now, here in the open, with this sweetsavage woman whose leggins tinkled as she rode, whose tunic swelledsoftly, whose jaw was clean and brown. How weak the precepts of thesocial covenant seemed. How feeble and far away the old world we too hadknown. And how infinitely sweet, how compellingly necessary now seemedto me this new, sweet world that swept around us now.
We rode on, side by side, knee to knee. Her garments rustled andtinkled.
Her voice awoke me from my brooding. "I wish, Mr. Cowles," said she,"that if you are strong enough and can do so without discomfort, youwould ride with me each day when I ride."
"Why?" I asked. That was the wish in my own mind; but I knew her reasonwas not the same as mine.
"Because," she said. She looked at me, but would not answer farther.
"You ought to tell me," I said quietly.
"Because it is prescribed for you."
"Not by my doctor." I shook my head. "Why, then?"
"Stupid--oh, very stupid officer and gentleman!" she aid, smilingslowly. "Lieutenant Belknap has his duties to look after; and as for Mr.Orme, I am not sure he is either officer or gentleman."
She spoke quietly but positively. I looked on straight up the valley andpondered. Then I put out a hand and touched the fringe of her sleeve.
"I am going to try to be a gentleman," said I. "But I wish some fatewould tell me why it is a gentleman can be made from nothing but a man."
The Way of a Man Page 21