One Short Year

King Country Chronicle, Volume III, Issue 174, 19 July 1909, Page 4

One Short Year

By E.

The man and the woman stood in front of the cottage which bad been their home for one short, happy year. The cottage wan in a rather lonely place* bat the inmates felt very secure, owing to the presence of the men on the cattle ranch, which the man owned. It was very dark that night, and a cold mountain wind blew in fitful gusts past the half-open door, through which the ruddy embers of the cheerful, crackling wood fire cast a warm glow on the inky blackness beyond. A fit of coughing shook the slender frame of the woman, as she drew a thick, fleecy shawl close round her shoulders, and nestled comfortably in the man's encircling arms.

"Must you go now, Dan?" she asked, striving to catch a glimpse of his face in the shadow. "Must you?" she repeated anxiously, as he made no rrply. "Can you not wait until the morning, and then start? You know it is unsafe for anybody to travel alone on such a lonely road, dear do wait," she whispered coaxingly. In the darkness the man's face grew hard, and then softened suddenly as he bent over the slight little figure by his side. "I must go. little woman," he said laughing at her fears. "I must go up to town and draw some money from the bank, and so, if I start tonight, I will be able to return sooner, besides being able to do all the shopping for the kiddie," he continued tenderly. as the wailing, feeble cry of an infant came from within. The man and the woman had only been wedded a little more than a year, and the unconscious baby was their pride. So silent were they, and so intent on talking occasionally about the baby, that neither of them saw a dark form steal stealthily away in the darkness, and make for the open road with all haste.

[ "What particular kind of tiny, soft coat or bonnet or something is it, that 1 have been so carefully instructed to buy little wifie?" be softly, laying hi« dark cheek against her's with a tender, caressing gesture. "Oh Dan! Don't go till the morning," the woman cried. "Supposing some tramp knows that you are going, and robs you?" But the man laughed lightly at her fears, and, stooping, took her in his ; arms, and, straining her to him, kissed her tenderly. "Good-bye my darling," he said, "take care of yourself and the kiddie. I promise not to forget any of those important commissions of yours for baby." So saying the man mounted his horse, and rode away, while the woman, with tears in her eyes, and a i little sobbing breath, entered the bouse, after vainly striving to get a parting glimpse of the horseman, who was now fast vanishing in the night. Going over to a little cradle, she hushed the crying infant, and softly sang it to sleep. Outside the rain poured heavily, and occasionally a loud clap of thunder shook the cottage windows, while viv- | id flashes of lightning would suddenly Illuminate the room, leaving the darkness which followed, blacker than ever. The wind moaned incessantly, howling in the keyholes, now bending the spreading branches of the pine trees, then with a sudden vicious gust it would scatter a heap of fallen leaves, whirling them here and there like bits of paper, and finally, having taken a short rest, it would start rattling the windows, and, growing stronger, uprooted trees whose roots were not securely embedded in the soil. But, as the night waned, the storm abated, and when the sun roseUhe next day it shone on a gay world. No day could have been finer. The birds sang cheerfully, bees flew to and fro, gathering honey from the flowers; nothing marked the passage of the recent storm except the fallen trees, and beaten grass. Yet the woman was sad and, as the day wore on, and the sun sank, she kept running to the door to gaze up the loog white road. But evening : came, and once more darkness reigned. The baby slept peacefully in his cradle, while the woman stood anxi- | oosly at the door. At last a horseman came galloping ! op to the gate, and dismounted hurri- , edly. After him came the dull rumble of a waggon, which drew slowly up outside. The woman ran eagerly to the horseman, with a glad cry of "Dan!" on ber lips, but it died at its birth, for it was not ber husband but one of the stockmen. But what waa that she saw lying in the waggon covered with a coat? With a cry she tottered forward a few steps, ber eyes blinded with tears, seeing nothing but that huddled form.

Gently (be stockman drew the woman into the bouse. "Dan!" Dan!" sbe cried, and sank insensible to the floor by tho sleeping baby's cradle. Heavy footsteps came to the door, and paused and then the men carried all that was left of the man reverently into the little cottage. Gently the stockman raised the cloak which covered the silent form. From one of the dead man's pockets a small, soft

parcel fell, half open, to the floor. Th" stockman stooped, and picked it up, undoing the loose paper as he did so. Slowly, with a white, pain-drawn face he drew from the crumpled paper a little soft baby's jacket of while wool, and two tiny boots. A dull, red stain marred their whiteness. With a sob the -ttrong man bowed bis face in his hands, as he glanced at the insensible woman lying by the sleeping child. "One year of happiness for them" be cried, chokingly. "I didn't know —I didn't know he went for those."