Cavanagh, Forest Ranger: A Romance of the Mountain West Page 7

  VI

  THE VOICE FROM THE HEIGHTS

  LEE VIRGINIA was not entirely without experience as regards respectfulcourtship. Her life in the East had brought her to know a number ofattractive lads and a few men, but none of these had become more than goodcompanions, or friends; and though she wrote to one or two of these youthsletters of the utmost friendliness, there was no passion in them, and shefelt, as yet, the sting of nothing more intense in her liking forCavanagh; but he meant more to her, now that she was lonely andbeleaguered of those whose eyes were cruel and hot.

  Then, too, he had come to represent a new world to her--this world of theforest, this region toward the sunset, which was quite as mysterious toher thinking as it was to the eyes of any plains-dweller. Her imaginationwent with the ranger on his solitary march into those vague, up-billowingmasses of rocks and trees. To her there were many dangers, and shewondered at his courage, his hardihood.

  That he had ridden all that long, rough way merely to see her she was notvain enough to believe; but she had, nevertheless, something of everywoman's secret belief in her individual charm. Cavanagh had shown aflattering interest in her, and his wish to be her protector filled herwith joy and confidence.

  She heard a good deal more about this particular forest ranger nextmorning at breakfast. "He is throwing himself away," Mrs. Redfieldpassionately declared. "Think of a man of Ross's refinement living in amountain shack miles from anybody, watching poachers, marking trees, andcooking his own food. It's a shameful waste of genius."

  "That's as you look at it, my dear," responded Redfield. "Ross is theguardian of an immense treasure-chest which belongs to the nation.Furthermore, he is quite certain--as I am--that this Forest Service is thepolicy of the future, and that it offers fine chances for promotion--andthen, finally, he likes it."

  "That is all well enough for a young man; but Ross is at leastthirty-five, and should be thinking of settling down. I can't understandhis point of view."

  "My dear, you have never seen the procession of the seasons from such apoint of view as that which he enjoys."

  "No, and I do not care to. It is quite lonely enough for me right here."

  Redfield looked at Lee with comic blankness. "Mrs. Redfield is hopelesslyurban. As the wife of a forest supervisor, she cares more for pavementsand tram-cars than for the most splendid mountain park."

  "I most certainly do," his wife vigorously agreed. "And if I had my way weshould be living in London."

  "Listen to that! She's ten times more English than Mrs. Enderby."

  "I'm not; but I long for the civilized instead of the wild. I like comfortand society."

  "So do I," returned he.

  "Yes; the comfort of an easy-chair on the porch and the society of yourforest rangers. This ranch life is all very well for a summer outing, butto be tied down here all the year round is to be denied one's birthrightas a modern."

  All this more or less cheerful complaint expressed the minds of manyothers who live amid these superb scenes. When autumn comes, when the skyis gray and the peaks are hid in mist, they long for the music, thelights, the comfort of the city; but when the April sun begins to go downin a smother of crimson and flame, and the mountains loom with epicdignity, or when at dawn the air is like some divine flood descending fromthe unstained mysterious heights, then the dweller in the foot-hills criesout: "How fortunate we are! Here is health and happiness! Here poverty isunknown!" One side of the girl was of this strain, the other was of thecharacter described by her hostess. She began to see that Ross Cavanaghwas fitted for higher duties than those of forest guard.

  Mrs. Redfield was becoming more and more interested in this child, who hadnot merely the malodorous reputation of her mother to contend with, butthe memory of a traitorous sire to live down; and when Lee Virginia wentto her room to pack her bag, the wife turned to her husband and said:"What are we to think of heredity when we see a thoroughly nice girl likethat rise out of the union of a desperado with a vixen?"

  Redfield answered: "It is unaccountable. I knew her father well; he was areckless daredevil, with less real courage in him than there is in oldLize; but I can't tell the girl that. She is sufficiently humiliated byher mother; she takes comfort in the thought that her father at least wasbrave and heroic."

  "I don't believe in heredity as I did once," his wife resumed. "Aren'tscientific men rather divided about it?"

  "Yes, there are those who deny that there is any inheritance of thespirit, of character, insisting that the laws of transmission affect thebody only. Lee is certainly like her father in looks. He was a handsomerascal."

  "Ross is terribly smitten with her."

  Redfield coughed, uneasily. "I hope not. Of course he admires her, as anyman must. She's physically attractive, very attractive, and, besides, Rossis as susceptible as a cow-puncher. He was deeply impressed the first timehe saw her, I could see that."

  "I didn't like his going out on the veranda with her last night,"continued Mrs. Redfield, "and when they came in her eyes and colorindicated that he'd been saying something exciting to her. Hugh, RossCavanagh must not get involved with that girl. It's your duty as hissuperior to warn him."

  "He's fully grown, my dear, and a bit dictatorial on his own part. I'm atrifle timid about cutting in on his private affairs."

  "Then I'll do it. Marriage with a girl like that is out of the question.Think what his sisters would say."

  Redfield smiled a bit satirically. "To the outsider a forest ranger at$900 a year and find himself and horses is not what you may call abrilliant catch."

  "Oh, well, the outsider is no judge. Ross Cavanagh is a gentleman, and,besides, he's sure to be promoted. I acknowledge the girl's charms, and Idon't understand it. When I think of her objectively as Lize Wetherford'sgirl I wonder at her being in my house. When I see her I want her to staywith me; I want to hug her."

  "Perhaps we've been unjust to Lize all along," suggested Redfield. "Shehas remained faithful to Ed Wetherford's memory all these years--that isconceded. Doesn't that argue some unusual quality? How many women do weknow who are capable of such loyalty? Come, now! Lize is a rough piece ofgoods, I'll admit, and her fly-bit lunch-counter was a public nuisance;but she had the courage to send her girl away to be educated, denyingherself the joy of seeing her develop by her side. We mustn't permit ourprejudices to run away with us."

  The girl's return put a stop to the discussion, which could end in nothingbut confusion anyway.

  Lee Virginia said good-bye to Mrs. Redfield with grateful appreciation ofher kindness, and especially of her invitation to come again, and thetears in her eyes profoundly affected the older woman, who, with afriendliness which was something more than politeness, invited her to comeagain. "Whenever Roaring Fork gets on your nerves we'll be very glad torescue you," she said in parting.

  Hugh Redfield the girl thoroughly understood and loved, he was sosimple-hearted and so loyal. His bitter criticisms of the West were notuttered in a destructive mood--quite the contrary. His work wasconstructive in the highest degree. He was profoundly impatient ofAmerica's shortcomings, for the reason that he deeply felt herresponsibility to the rest of the world. His knowledge of other republicsand "limited monarchies" gave his suggestions power and penetration; andeven Bridges, besotted in his provincial selfishness, had advised hisselection as Supervisor. Of his own fitness for the work, Redfield himselftook a dispassionate view. "I am only filling the place till the right mancomes along," he said to his friends. "The man before me was ahalf-hearted and shifty advocate. I am an enthusiast without specialtraining; by-and-by the real forester will come to take my place."

  On the way to the office, he said to Lee: "I will talk to the doctor ifyou like."

  "I wish you would," she responded, fervently.

  She remained in the machine while he went in, and as she sat there a trainpassed on its downward eastward run, and a feeling of loneliness, ofhelplessness, filled her heart. She had written many brave letters to herEastern friends, but t
he vital contests, the important factors of herlife, she had not mentioned. She had given no hint of her mother'sphysical and moral degeneration, and she had set down no word of herlonging to return; but now that she was within sight of the railway thecall of the East, the temptation to escape all her discomforts, was almostgreat enough to carry her away; but into her mind came the thought of theranger riding his solitary way, and she turned her face to her own dutiesonce more, comforted by the words of praise he had spoken and by the blazeof admiration in his eyes.

  Redfield came out, followed by a small man carrying a neat bag. He was ofsurpassing ugliness, and yet she liked him. His mouth had a curious twist.He had no chin to speak of, and his bright eyes protruded like those of abeetle. His voice, however, was surprisingly fine and resonant.

  "You'd better sit behind, Doctor," said Redfield. "I shall be very busy onthis trip."

  "Very well," replied the other, "if Miss Wetherford remains beside me;otherwise I shall rebel." He was of those small, plain men whose absurdgallantry is never taken seriously by women, and yet is something morethan pretence.

  He began by asking a few questions about her mother's way of life, but asLee was not very explicit, he became impersonal, and talked of whatsoevercame into his mind--motor-cars, irrigation, hunting, flowers--anything atall; and the girl had nothing to do but to utter an occasional phrase toshow that she was listening. It was all rather depressing to her, for shecould not understand how a man so garrulous could be a good physician. Shewas quite sure her mother would not treat him with the slightest respect.

  After all, he talked well. His stream of conversation shortened the wayfor her, and she was surprised when they topped the last ridge and theFork could be seen lying before them in the valley. Soon they were rollingquietly up the street to the door of the Wetherford House.

  Springing out unaided, Lee hurried in, hoping to prepare her mother forthe shock of the little physician's unimposing appearance, while Redfieldremained behind to arm the physician for his encounter. "Now, Doctor, Mrs.Wetherford is a very singular and plain-spoken person. She's quite likelyto swear like a man, but she will perform like a woman. Don't mind whatshe says; go ahead in your own way. Will you wait till after dinner, orshall I--"

  "No, I shall make the examination first--while I'm hungry. My mind worksquicker. I can't diagnose properly on a full stomach."

  "Very well; line up with me, and together we'll beard the old grizzly inher den."

  They found Lize on duty behind the counter as usual. Her face wasdejected, her eyes dull, but as she caught sight of the strange littleman, she cried out: "Lord God, Reddy, why didn't you bring me a _man_?"

  "Hush, mother," cautioned Lee, "this is the famous Eastern physician."

  "You can't be famous for your beauty--you must be brainy," she remarked toherself in the stranger's hearing.

  Redfield presented "Doctor Fessenden, of Omaha."

  She started again on contemptuous ways, but was stopped by the little man."Get down out o' that chair!" he commanded. "My time is money!"

  Lize flushed with surprise and anger, but obeyed, and Lee Virginia,secretly delighted with the physician's imperative manner, led the wayinto the lodging-house. "I'll look after the cash, mother," she said."Don't worry."

  "I'm not worryin'," she replied; "but what does that little whelp mean bytalking to me like that? I'll swat him one if he isn't careful!"

  "It's his way. Please don't anger him. You need his help."

  The doctor interfered. "Now, madam, strip, and let's see what's the matterwith you," whereupon he laid off his coat, and opened his box ofinstruments.

  Lee fled, and Redfield, who had remained standing beside the counter,could not repress a smile. "She's caught a tartar this time. He's a littletiger, isn't he? I had prepared him for war, but I didn't expect him tofly at her that way."

  "Poor mother! how dreadfully ill she looks to-day. I hope the doctor willorder her to rest."

  "But will she obey? I've argued that with her. She keeps saying she will,but she won't."

  It was nearly one, but the customers were coming in, and the girl, layingaside her hat and veil, took her seat at the cash-register, while Redfieldwent out to put his machine in order for the return trip. She realizedthat she was now at close-hand grapple with life. For the most part shehad been able, up to this time, to keep in the background, and to avoidthe eyes of the rough men who came and went before her mother's seat. Butnow she was not merely exposed to their bold glances; she was in aposition where each man could make excuse to stop and demand a word whattime his change was being counted.

  Her glowing cheeks, her pretty dress, made her a shining mark, and the menbegan at once to improve their opportunity by asking, "Where's Lize?" Andthis embarrassed her, for the reason that she did not care to go into thecause of her mother's temporary absence, and, perceiving her confusion,one of them passed to coarse compliment. "There's nothing the matter withyou," he said, with a leer. Others, though coarse, were kindly in theirfamiliarity, and Sifton, with gentle face, remained to help her bear thejests of the more uncouth and indelicate of her admirers.

  Perceiving her nervousness, Neill Ballard raised loud outcry over amistake she made in returning change, and this so confused and angered herthat her eyes misted with tears, and she blundered sadly with the nextcustomer. His delight in her discomfiture, his words, his grin becameunendurable, and in a flush of rage and despair she sprang to her feet andleft them to make triumphant exit. "I got her rattled!" he roared, as hewent out. "She'll remember me."

  The diners were all smiling, and Gregg took a malicious satisfaction inher defeat. She had held herself haughtily apart from him, and he was gladto see her humbled.

  Leaving her place behind the counter, she walked through the room withuplifted head and burning eyes, her heart filled with bitterness and fire.She hated the whole town, the whole State, at the moment. Were these "thechivalrous short-grass knights" she had heard so much about? These thelarge-souled "Western founders of empire"? At the moment she was in thebelief that all the heroes of her childhood had been of the stamp of NeillBallard--selfish, lustful, and cruel.

  In the hall her pride, her sense of duty, came back to her, and she haltedher fleeing feet. "I will not be beaten!" she declared, and her lipsstraightened. "I will not let these dreadful creatures make a fool of mein that way!"

  Thereupon she turned and went back, pale now, but resolved to proveherself the mistress of the situation. Fortunately Redfield had returned,and his serene presence helped her to recover complete control of herself.She remained coldly blank to every compliment, and by this means shesubdued them. "Why doesn't the doctor return for his dinner?" she asked,after the room had cleared. The desire to know her mother's real conditionat last quite subordinated her own besetments. To some of the older menwhom she knew to be neighbors and friends she gladly explained thesituation, and their sympathy did something to restore her faith inhumankind. Nevertheless, this hour of unprotected intercourse with thecitizens of the town was disturbing, humiliating, and embittering.

  * * * * *

  The doctor appearing suddenly in the door beckoned to her, and, leavingher place, she crossed to where he stood. "Your mother needs you," hesaid, curtly. "Go to her, and keep her quiet for an hour or two if youcan."

  "What is the matter, doctor?"

  "I can't tell you precisely, but you must get her on a diet and keep herthere. I will write out some lists for you after my luncheon."

  Lee found her mother sitting in such dejection as she had never known herto display, though she fired up sufficiently to say: "That cussed littlethimble-rigger has been throwing a great big scare into me. He says I'vegot to get out-doors, live on raw meat and weak tea, and walk five miles aday. That's what he says!" she added, in renewed astonishment at the man'saudacity. "Who's at the cash?"

  "Mr. Redfield," replied Lee. "I'll go right back."

  "No you won't, I'm no dead horse yet." She
struggled to her feet andstarted for the cash-register. "I won't let no little Omaha doughgie likethat put me out o' business."

  Despite all warnings, she walked out into the dining-room and took heraccustomed seat with set and stern face, while her daughter went to thetable where the doctor sat, and explained her inability to manage hermother.

  "That's _your_ problem," he replied, coolly. Then rapidly, succinctly, andclearly he went over the case, and laid out a course of treatment. Out ofit all Lee deduced that her mother was very ill indeed, though not indanger of sudden death.

  "She's on the chute," said Fessenden, "and everything depends upon her ownaction whether she takes the plunge this winter or twenty years from now.She's a strong woman--or has been--but she has presumed upon her strength.She used to live out-of-doors, she tells me, during all her early life,and now, shut in by these walls, working sixteen hours a day, she iskilling herself. Get her out if you can, and cut out stimulants."

  As he rose and approached the counter, Lize shoved a couple of gold piecesacross the board. "That wipes you off my map," she grimly declared. "Ihope you enjoyed your ride."

  "It's up to you, madam," he replied, pocketing the gold. "Good-day!"

  Lee followed him out to the car, eager to secure all she could of hiswisdom. He repeated his instructions. "Medicine can't help her much," hesaid, "but diet can do a great deal. Get her out of that rut she's in.Good-bye."

  "I'll be down again in a day or two!" called Redfield.

  The machine began to purr and spit and the wheels to spin, and LeeVirginia was left to face her mother's obstinate resistance alone. Shefelt suddenly very desolate, very weak, and very poor. "What if mothershould die?" she asked herself.

  Gregg was standing before the counter talking with Lize as Lee returned,and he said, with a broad smile: "I've just been saying I'd take thishotel off your mother's hands provided you went with it."

  In the mouths of some men these words would have been harmless enough, butcoming from the tongue of one whose life could only be obscurely hinted atthe jest was an insult. The girl shuddered with repulsion, and Lize spokeout:

  "Now see here, Bullfrog, I'm dead on the hoof and all that, but neitheryou nor any other citizen like you can be funny with my girl. She's notfor you. Now that's final! She ain't your kind."

  Gregg's smile died into a gray, set smirk, and his eyes took on a steelyglint. He knew when the naked, unadorned truth was spoken to him. Wordscame slowly to his lips, but he said: "You'll be glad to come to me forhelp some day--both of you."

  "Oh, get along! You don't hold no mortgage on me," retorted Lize,contemptuously, and turned to Lee. "I'm hungry. Where's that grub chart o'mine?"

  Lee brought the doctor's page of notes and read it through, while hermother snorted at intervals: "Hah! dry toast, weak tea, no coffee, noalcohol. Huh! I might as well starve! Eggs--fish--milk! Why didn't he sayboiled live lobsters and champagne? I tell you right now, I'm not going togo into that kind of a game. If I die I'm going to die eating what I blameplease."

  The struggle had begun. With desperate courage Lee fought, standingsquarely in the rut of her mother's daily habit. "You must not hive uphere any longer," she insisted; "you must get out and walk and ride. I cantake care of the house--at least, till we can sell it."

  It was like breaking the pride of an athlete, but little by little sheforced upon her mother a realization of her true condition, and at lastLize consented to offer the business for sale. Then she wept (for thefirst time in years), and the sight moved her daughter much as the sobs ofa strong man would have done.

  She longed for the presence of Ross Cavanagh at this moment, when all herlittle world seemed tumbling into ruin; and almost in answer to herwordless prayer came a messenger from the little telephone office: "Someone wants to talk to you."

  She answered this call hurriedly, thinking at first that it must be Mrs.Redfield. The booth was in the little sitting-room of a private cottage,and the mistress of the place, a shrewd little woman with inquisitiveeyes, said: "Sounds to me like Ross Cavanagh's voice."

  Lee was thankful for the booth's privacy, for her cheeks flamed up at thisremark; and when she took up the receiver her heart was beating so loud itseemed as if the person at the other end of the wire must hear it. "Who isit, please?" she asked, with breathless intensity.

  A man's voice came back over the wire so clear, so distinct, so intimate,it seemed as if he were speaking into her ear. "It is I, Ross Cavanagh. Iwant to ask how your mother is?"

  "She is terribly disheartened by what the doctor has said, but she is inno immediate danger."

  He perceived her agitation, and was instantly sympathetic. "Can I be ofuse--do you need me? If you do, I'll come down."

  "Where are you?"

  "I am at the sawmill--the nearest telephone station."

  "How far away are you?"

  "About thirty miles."

  "Oh!" She expressed in this little sound her disappointment, and as ittrembled over the wire he spoke quickly: "Please tell me! Do you want meto come down? Never mind the distance--I can ride it in a few hours."

  She was tempted, but bravely said: "No; I'd like to see you, of course,but the doctor said mother was in no danger. You must not come on ouraccount."

  He felt the wonder of the moment's intercourse over the wilderness steeps,and said so. "You can't imagine how strangely sweet and civilized yourvoice sounds to me here in this savage place. It makes me hope that someday you and Mrs. Redfield will come up and visit me in person."

  "I should like to come."

  "Perhaps it would do your mother good to camp for a while. Can't youpersuade her to do so?"

  "I'm trying to do that--I mean, to stop work; but she says, 'What can wedo to earn a living?'"

  "If nothing happens I hope to spend an hour or two at the Forks nextSunday. I hope to find your mother better."

  Their words were of this unemotional sort, but in their voices somethingsubtler than the electrical current vibrated. He called to her in wordlessfashion and she answered in the same mysterious code, and when she said"Good-bye" and hung up the receiver her world went suddenly gray andcommonplace, as if a ray of special sunlight had been withdrawn.

  The attendant asked, with village bluntness: "It _was_ Ross, wasn't it?"

  Lee Virginia resented this almost as much as if it were the question of aneavesdropper; but she answered: "Yes; he wanted to know how my motherwas."

  She turned as she reached the street and looked up toward the gloriouspurpling deeps from which the ranger's voice had come, and the thoughtthat he was the sole guardian of those dark forests and shiningstreams--that his way led among those towering peaks and lone canons--madeof him something altogether admirable.

  That night her loneliness, her sense of weakness, carried her to bed withtears of despair in her eyes. Lize had insisted on going back to her worklooking like one stricken with death, yet so rebellious that her daughtercould do nothing with her; and in the nature of fate the day's businesshad been greater than ever, so that they had all been forced to work likeslaves to feed the flood of custom. And Lize herself still kept her vigilin her chair above her gold.

  Closing her mind to the town and all it meant to her, the girl tried tofollow, in imagination, the ranger treading his far, high trails. Sherecalled his voice, so cultivated, so rich of inflection, with dangeroustenderness. It had come down to her from those lofty parapets like that ofa friend, laden with something sweeter than sympathy, more alluring thansong.

  The thought of some time going up to the high country where he dwelt cameto her most insistently, and she permitted herself to dream of long daysof companionship with him, of riding through sunlit aisles of forest withhim, of cooking for him at the cabin--what time her mother grew strongonce more--and these dreams bred in her heart a wistful ache, a hungryneed which made her pillow a place of mingled ecstasy and pain.