Part 3 (1/2)
”Oh, how jolly! Jane, how do you think we will ever be able to tear ourselves away from all this? Couldn't we start a home-study course, or something outside?” pouted Judith.
Donning their brilliant sweaters, the girls were soon ready, and taking their places in the buck-board set out to a.s.sist in the inspection.
Within the corrals the shouting of the cowboys, and the antics of broncos and ponies, presented a scene quite like the Wild West of the screen world. Jane and Judith were in their glory. Jane with the joy of exhibiting the ”High Spots of Ranch Life,” she had promised, and Judith with the exhilarating delight of observing such wonders for the first time.
”And to think I might have missed it all,” she reflected in Jane's ear, when a dash of the ponies brought them up to the end of the fenced-in patches of dust, noise and horses. ”I had not planned to stop off until-Can you guess what made me think you lived somewhere near the Montana trail?”
”Oh, of course. b.u.t.te, p.r.o.nounced 'beaut'?” ventured Jane, and even Henry Allen considered the guess worthy of a prize. And he said so.
This particular evening, the prelude of a series that followed, there was carried out a program of such enjoyment, that one would easily agree with Judith, it would be hard indeed for the girls to tear themselves away from the ranch life to take up the circ.u.mspect duties of college. The excitement of actually bargaining with the Indians and obtaining the souvenir beaded bags (although none with an abject apology worked in its intricacies was to be found for Judith), then the dear moccasins, about which Mr. Allen coaxed the squaws to tell such quaint fables, not to speak of the mysteriously woven baskets, made big enough and small enough for any imaginable dressing or sewing use, when all garnered and gathered made up a precious burden for the depot cart in which the El Capitan party rode home that wonderful summer afternoon.
”Couldn't we stop at Squaw Squatty's, Daddy? I would love to have the old Indian tell Judy's fortune,” Jane suggested.
”Oh, yes, do,” pleaded Judy. ”I want so much to know about a big secret I have planned for the first half,” she volunteered. ”Jane, I'll tell you about it, maybe. But I should like to know how it will all pan out, and I'm sure a squaw would be able to foretell,” she ventured, with a sly grimace at Aunt Mary.
CHAPTER IV-WOO NAH AND THE FORTUNES
”Can we make it, Daddy?” asked Jane. ”Doesn't that look like a little cyclone cloud?” indicating the cloud with a ”tail” that seemed to be gathering color and speed as the buckboard traveled on.
”Old Squatty's cabin would be as good a place as any in a blow,” her father replied. ”If we get one, we could put the horses in shelter around there, and maybe the lightning might give the old lady a real glimpse into the beyond. Shall we try it, sister?” to Miss Allen who was, as a rule, rather timid of the storms that sprung up so suddenly on the plains.
”I am perfectly willing,” acquiesced the lady. ”As you say, brother, the cabin would be a comparatively safe place to seek shelter in.”
With that velocity peculiar to storms of the prairie the antic.i.p.ated baby cyclone gathered force, and with one great gust and almost without warning broke over their heads.
Jane opened the curtains of the cart to allow the gale a way out, without incurring the possibility of upsetting them. Judith was simply fascinated with the sweep everything was taking, but Aunt Mary gathered herself as far as possible into her bonnet and wrap, scarcely venturing to speak while Mr. Allen held his horses in with a firm rein.
”Just a few paces,” he shouted rea.s.suringly. ”Hold tight!”
”All right,” called back Jane, and so deafening was the swirl that only a clear, loud voice such as she exercised could have made its way to the driver just in front.
Two big s.h.a.ggy dogs intercepted the dash of the buckboard into the squaw's lane. The old woman was still outside, hunched up in the queerest sort of a hammock, made of a halfed barrel, strung up to two young oak trees. With something like a howl she called the dogs off, and waved a stick to the travelers to come in, seemingly sensing the possibility of profit in their visit. Mr. Allen discovered where to find shelter for his team, and as the storm was tearing and scattering limbs of trees, and everything it could wrench from stability, he did not stop until he had entered the queer stable with the cart and its occupants.
”Now we are in for it,” he admitted, a.s.sisting Aunt Mary to alight.
”I'm glad we are here and not on Steeple Hill.”
”Thrills!” exclaimed Judith. ”More thrills. I have seen nothing but wonders since I came to Montana. I really think, Janie, I have had more real experiences while here than in all my coast touring.”
”Lovely of you to say so, Judy. But just wait till you see old Mrs.
Teekawata. She is the wife of the one great medicine man, or rather his widow. Don't mention fortune telling, that would offend her. She is a 'scientist.' She will mix up stuffs, and get clues from the smoke! That is if she is in a communicative mood.”
”Or in need of white bread,” amended Mr. Allen, who had overheard the girls. ”Teekawata is a business woman with talents wasted. She should have been a copper queen.”
The storm was scattering almost as quickly as it had gathered. The old squaw had tumbled out of her half barrel, and leaning on her stick, awaited the party's approach from the shack. Aunt Mary edged close to her brother. She had no love for these old Indians, and rather feared for her belongings when in their company.
”Greeting!” called Mr. Allen to the old woman. ”Thunder Cloud sent you his good word. Did you see how he followed us in here?”
”Si si,” answered the woman, who was of the Mexican type. ”Approach!”