The Moccasin Ranch: A Story of Dakota Page 7

  VII

  CONCLUSION

  Bailey woke in the night, chilled. The fire was low, and as he rose toadd some coal to the stove he looked about him in his way. Rivers' bunkwas empty. He glanced toward the bed, and saw him wrapped in his buffalocoat kneeling beside Blanche's pillow. He seemed asleep, as his cheekrested upon his right hand, which was clasped in both of hers.

  The young pioneer sat for several minutes thinking, staring straight athis friend. There was something here that made all the difference inthe world. Suppose these people really loved each other as he lovedEstelle? Then he softly fed the fire and lay down again.

  His brain whirled as if some sharp blow had dazzled him. Outside theimplacable winds still rushed and warred, and beat and clamored,shrieking, wailing, like voices from hell. The snow dashed like surfagainst the walls. It seemed to cut off the little cabin from the restof the world and to dwarf all human action like the sea. It made socialconventions of no value, and narrowed the question of morality to therelationship of these three human souls.

  Lying there in the dark, with the elemental war of wind and snow fillingthe illimitable arch of sky, he came to feel, in a dim, wordless way,that this tragedy was born of conventions largely. Also, it appearedinfinitesimal, like the activities of insects battling, breeding, dying.He came also to feel that the force which moved these animalculae wasakin to the ungovernable sweep of the wind and snow--all inexplicable,elemental, unmoral.

  His thought came always back to the man kneeling there, and the clasp ofthe woman's hands--that baffled him, subdued him.

  When he awoke it was light. The roar of the wind continued, but faint,far away, like the humming of a wire with the cold. He lay bewildered,half dreaming, not knowing what it was that had impressed him with thisunwonted feeling of doubt and weariness. At last he heard a movement inthe room and rose on his elbow. Rivers was awake and was peering out atthe window.

  Blanche replied to his words of greeting with a low murmur--"I feel veryweak."

  She seemed calmer, also, and her eyes had lost something of theirtension of appeal.

  Bailey looked at her closely, and his heart softened with pity. Hewaited upon her and tried by his cheerful smiles to comfort her,nevertheless.

  They ate breakfast in silence, as if apprehending the struggle which wasstill to come.

  At last Rivers rose with abrupt resolution.

  "Well, now, I'll bring the team around, and we'll get away."

  "Wait a minute, Jim," Bailey said. "I want to say something to you."There was a note of pleading in his voice. "Wait a little. I've beenthinking this thing over. I don't want you to go away feeling hardtoward me." His throat choked up and his eyes grew dim. "I don't want tobe hard on you, Jim. It's a mighty big question, and I'm not one to beunjust, specially toward a woman. Of course, somebody's got to suffer,but it hadn't ought to be the woman--I've made up my mind on that. Seemslike the woman always does get the worst of it, and I want you to thinkof her. What is to become of her?"

  Blanche turned toward him with a wondrous look--a look which made himshiver with emotion. He looked down a moment, and his struggle to speakmade him seem very boyish and gentle.

  "I can't exactly justify this trade, Jim, but I guess it all depends onthe _mother_. She ought to be happy anyway, whether you are or not; soif she thinks she'd better go with you, why, I ain't got a word tosay."

  Blanche gave a low cry, a cry such as no woman had ever uttered in hispresence, and fell upon her knees before him.

  The cadence of her moan cut deep into his heart. He realized for thefirst time some part of her suffering, her temptations. Her eyes shonewith a marvellous beauty. He was awed by the rapt expression of herface.

  "Don't do that," he stammered. "Please get up."

  "You're so good!" she breathed.

  "Oh no, I'm not. I don't know--I don't pretend to judge--that's all.Yesterday I did, but now--well, I leave the whole business with you andGod. Please stand up."

  She rose, but stood looking upon him with a fixed, devouring look. Hehad never seen tears in her eyes before. She had been gay and sullenand tense and sad, but now she was transfigured with some emotion hecould not follow. Her eyes were soft and dark, and her pale face, sadand sweet, was instinct with the tenderness of her coming maternity. Thesturdy plainsman thrilled with unutterable pity as he looked down uponher.

  There was a silence, and then Rivers came to Bailey's side, and said,brokenly,

  "Rob, old man, you've done me good--you always _have_ done me good--I'llbe faithful to her, so help me God!"

  Bailey understood him, and shook his hand. They stood for a moment, palmto palm, as if this were in some sense a marriage ceremony. Bailey brokethe tension by saying:

  "Well, now get your team--I wouldn't let you take her out into the coldonly I know she ought to be where a doctor can be reached. The quickeryou go the better."

  While Rivers was gone he turned to her and helped her with her cloak andshawl. His heart went out toward her with a brother's love. He talkedwith cheerful irrelevancy and bustled about, heating a bowlder for herfeet and warming her overshoes.

  "Now it's all right. Jim will take care of you. Don't worry about Will;I'll go over and see him." He wrapped her in every available blanket andshawl, and at last helped her outside and into the sleigh. He tucked therobe around her while Rivers held the restless horses. His voicetrembled as he said:

  "Now, Jim, get her under shelter as quick as you can. Leave the team atWheatland. I'll come after it in a day or two. I want to see somebody intown, anyway."

  The woman turned toward him. He saw her eyes shine through her veil. Shebared her hand and extended it toward him. "I hope you and Estelle willbe happy."

  He covered her hand with both of his. The gesture was swift and tender.It seemed to shield and forgive. Then drawing the robe over it without aword, he briskly said, "Well, Jim, I guess this is the fork in theroad," and he looked at his chum with misty eyes. Rivers turned away,and they again clasped hands without looking at each other.

  "Good-bye, old man," said Rivers.

  "Good-bye, Jim, and _good luck_!"

  Bailey saw his partner draw the woman close down under the shelter ofhis shoulder, while his powerful hand whirled the team to the south.

  He stood in the lee of the shanty until the swift sleigh was a slowlymoving speck on the plain, then he went in and sat down to muse on thewondrous last look in the woman's eyes. "I wonder what Estelle willsay?" he asked himself, and a sense of loneliness, of longing to seeher, filled his heart with dreams.

  THE END