The Girl of the Golden West | Page 5

down on his haunches. Of no avail now was her resolution to let him
know the whereabouts of the camp at any cost, for already his "_Adios,
Señorita_" was sounding faintly in her ears.
With a little cry of vexation, scarcely audible, the young woman flung
herself back on the seat. She was only a girl with all a girl's ways, and
like most of her sex, however practical her life thus far, she was not
without dreams of a romance. This meeting with the handsome
caballero was the nearest she had come to having one. True, there was
scarcely a man at Cloudy but what had tried at one time or another to
go beyond the stage of good comradeship; but none of them had
approached the idealistic vision of the hero that was all the time lying
dormant in her mind. Of course, being a girl, and almost a queen in her
own little sphere, she accepted their rough homage in a manner that
was befitting to such an exalted personage, and gave nothing in return.
But now something was stirring within her of which she knew nothing;
a feeling was creeping over her that she could not analyse; she was
conscious only of the fact that with the departure of this attractive
stranger, who had taken no pains to conceal his admiration for her, her
journey had been robbed of all its joy.
A hundred yards further on, therefore, she could not resist the
temptation to put her head out of the stage and look back at the place
where she had last seen him.
He was still sitting quietly on his horse at the place where they had
parted so unceremoniously, his face turned in her direction--horse and
rider silhouetted against the western sky which showed a crimson hue
below a greenish blue that was sapphire farther from the horizon.

II.
Not until a turn of the road hid the stage from sight did the stranger fix
his gaze elsewhere. Even then it was not easy for him, and there had
been a moment when he was ready to throw everything to the winds
and follow it. But when on the point of doing so there suddenly flashed
through his mind the thought of the summons that he had received. And
so, not unlike one who had come to the conclusion that it was indeed a
farewell, he waved his hand resignedly in the direction that the stage
had taken and, calling to his vaquero, he gave his horse a thrust of the
long rowel of his spur and galloped off towards the foothills of the
Sierras.
For some miles the riders travelled a road which wound through
beautiful green fields; but master and man were wholly indifferent,
seeing neither the wild flowers lining each side of the road nor the
sycamores and live oaks which were shining overhead from the recent
rains. In the case of the young man every foot of the way to his father's
rancho was familiar. All hours of the day and night he had made the
trip to the highway, for with the exception of the few years that had
been given to his education in foreign lands, his whole life had been
passed on the rancho. Scarcely less acquainted with the road than his
young master was the vaquero, so neither gave a glance at the country
through which they were passing, but side by side took the miles in
silence.
An hour passed with the young man still wrapt in thought. The truth
was, though he was scarcely ready to admit it, he had been hard hit. In
more ways than one the Girl had made a deep impression on him. Not
only had her appearance awakened his interest to the point of
enthusiasm, but there was something irresistibly attractive to him in her
lack of affectation and audacious frankness. Over and over again he
thought of her happy face, her straightforward way of looking at things
and, last but not least, her evident pleasure in meeting him. And when
he reflected on the hopelessness of their ever meeting again, a feeling
of depression seized him. But his nature--always a buoyant one--did

not permit him to remain downcast very long.
By this time they were nearing the foothills. A little while longer and
the road that they were travelling became nothing more than a bridle
path. Indeed, so dense did the chaparral presently become that it would
have been utterly impossible for one unacquainted with the way to keep
on it. Animal life was to be seen everywhere. At the approach of the
riders innumerable rabbits scurried away; quail whirred from bush to
bush; and, occasionally, a deer broke from the thickets.
At the end of another hour of hard