A Waif of the Plains. BY BRET HARTE, Author of 'The Argonauts,' 'This Luck of Roaring Camp,' 'Cressy,' etc. Copyright 1889—By the Author. PART II.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 418, 9 November 1889, Page 3

A Waif of the Plains. BY BRET HARTE, Author of ' The Argonauts,' ' This Luck of Roaring Camp,' ' Cressy,' etc. Copyright 1889— By the Author. PART 11.

With the setting of the sun an ominous silence fell. He could hear the low breathing of Suzy and even fancied he could hear the beating of his own heart in that oppressive heat of all nature. For the day's march had always been accompanied by the monotonous creaking of wheels and axles, and even the quiet of the night encampment had been alwaj-3 more or less broken by the movement of unquiet sleepers on the waggon beds, or the breathing of the cattle. But hei'e there was neither sound nor motion. Suzy's prattle and even the sound of his own voice would have broken the benumbing spell, but it was part of his growing self-denial now that he refrained from waking her even by a whisper. She would awaken soon enough to thivflb and hunger perhaps, and then — what was he to do ? If that looked-for help would only come now — while she still slept. For it was part of his boyish fancy that if he could deliver her asleep and undemonstrative of fear or suffering he would be les3 blameful and she less mindful of her trouble. If it did not come — but he would not think of that yet ! If she was thirsty meantime — well ib might — rain, and there was always the dew which thoy used to brush off the morning grass ; he would take off his shirt and catch it in that — like a ship-wrecked marriner. It would be funny and make her laugh. For himself, he would nob laugh, he felt he was getting very old and grown up in this loneliness. It was getting daiker. They should be looking into the waggon now. A new doubt began to assail him. Ought he not, now that he was rested, make the most of the remaining moments of daylight and befoie tho glow faded fiom the west, when ho would no longer have any bearinga to guide him? Bub there was always the rt*k of waking her, to what? The feir of being confronted again with her and of beincr unable to pacify her at last decided him to lemaiu. But he crept softly through tho yrass and in the dusb of the track traced bhe points of tho compass, as he could still determine them by the sunset light, with a lare'o pointed rod to indicate the west. This boyish contrivance particularly pleased him. If he had only a pole, a stick or even a twig on which to tie hia handkerchief and srect it above the clump of mesquite as a bignal to bhe searchers in caso he should be overcome by fatigue or sleep, he would have been happy. But the plain wa& barren of brush or timber. He did not dream that this omission and the very unobbrusiveness of his hiding-place would be hia salvabion from a greater danger. With the coming darkness the wind arose and swept the plain with a longdrawn sigh. This increased to a murmur, till presently the whole expanse, befoie sunk in awful silence, seemed to awake with vague complaint incessant sounds and low moanings. Ab times he thought he heard bhe holloaing of distant voices — at times it seemed as a whisper in his own ear. In the silence that followed each blast he fancied he could detect the creaking of the waggon, tho dull thud of the oxen's hoofs, or broken fragments of speech, blown and scattered, even as he strained his ears to listen, by tho next gust. This bega,n to confuse his brain, as his eyes had been previously dazzled by the sunlight, and a strange torpor began to steal over his faculties. Once or twice his head dropped. Then he awoke with a staib. A moving figure had suddenly uplifted itself between him and the horizon ! It was not twenty yards away, so clearly outlined | against the still luminous sky that it seemed evon nearer. A human figure, bub so dishevelled, so\ fantastic, and yet so mean and puerile in its extravagance that ib seemed the outcdms of a childish dream. It was a mounted figure, bub so ludicrously disproporbionabe to the pony ib besbrode, whose trim legs were sbifiiy buried in the dust in a breathless halt, that it might have been a straggler from some vulgar wandering circus. A tall hat, crownless and brimles?, a castaway of civilisation, surmounted by a turkey's feather, was on its head ; over its shoulders hur.g a dirty, tattered blanket, that scarcoly covered the two painted leg?, which seemed clothed in soiled yellow hose. In one hand it held a gun, theobher was raised over its oyes in eager "scrutiny of some distant point beyond and' east of the spot where the children lay concealed. Presently, with a dozen quick strides of the pony's legs, the apparition moved to the right, its gaze still pinned on that mysterious part of the horizon ! There was no mistaking it now ! The painted, Hebraic face, bhe large, curved nose, bhe bony cheek, the bioad mouth, the shadowed eyes, the straight, long, matted locks. It was an Indian ! Nob tho picturesque creature of Clarence's imagination, bub still an Indian! The boy .was uneasy, suspicious, antagonistic but not afraid. He looked at bhe heavy animal face with the superiority of intelligence, ab the half-naked figure with the conscious supremacy of dres^, at the louver individuality with tho contempt of a higher race. Yet a moment after, when the figure wheeled and disappeared towards the undulating West, a strange chill crepb over him. lie did nob know bhab in bins queer phantom and painbed pigmy the awful Majesty of Deith had passed him by ! * Mamma !' It was Suzy's voice, struggling into consciousness. Perhaps she had been instinctively conscious of the boy's sadder tears. «Hush. J He had just turned, the objective poinb of bhe Indian's gaze. There was something ! A dark line was moving along with the gathering darkness. For a moment he hardly dared to voice his thought, even to himself. It was a following train overtaking them from the rear ! And, from tho rapidity of its movements, a train with horses, hurrying forward bo evening camp. Ho had never dreamed of help ftom bhab quarter. And this was what the Indian's koener eyes had been watching, and why he had so precipibabely lied ! The strange train was now coming up at a round trot. It was evidently well appointed, with fivo or six large waggons and several outriders. In half an hour ib would be "here. Yeb ho restrained from waking Suzy, who had fallen asleep again, his old superstibion of "securing her safeby first being still uppermost. Ho took off his jackeb bo cover her shoulders and rearranged her ncsb. Then ho glanced again ab the coming train. Bub for unac- [ countable reason it had changed its direoj tion and, instead of following tho track that should havo brought it to his side, it had turned oil to tho left ! In ton minutes it would pass abreast of him a mile ixml a half away ! If he woke Suzy now he knew she would be helpless in her terror, and ho

.could not carry her half fchafc distance. He could rush, to the train himself and return with help, but he would never leave her alone, in the darkness. Never? If she woke she would die of fright perhaps, or wander blindly and aimlessly away. No ! The train would pass, and with it that hope of- rescue 1 Something waa in his throat, bub he gulped it down and was quiet again albeit he shivered in the night wind. The train was nearly abreast of him now. He ran out of the tall grass, waving his straw hat above his head in the faint hope of attracting attention. But he did not go far, for he found, to his alarm that when he turned back again the clump of mepquite was .ecarcely visible from the rest of the plain. This settled all question of his going. Even if he had reached the train and returned with some one, how would he ever find her again in this desolate expense? Ho watched the train slowly pass - still mechanically, almost hopelessly— waving his hat ac he ran Up and down before the mesquite as if he were waving a last farewell to his departing hope. Sudden'y it appeared to him that three of the outriders who were preceding the first waggon had changed their shape. They were no longer sharp, oblong, black profiles against the horizon, but had become at" fiist blurred and indistinct, then taller and narrower, until at last they stood out like exclamation points against the sky. He continued to wave his hat, they continued to grow taller and narrower. ■He understood it now — the th r ee black spots we/c the outriders coming towards him. This is what he had seen : This is what he now saw : T T T • • • He ran back to Suzy to see if she still slept, for his foolish desire bo have her saved unconsciously was stronger than ! ever now that safety seemed so near. She was still sleeping, although she had moved slightly. He ran to the front again. The outriders had apparently baited. What were they doing V Why wouldn't they come on ? Suddenly a blinding flash of light seemed to burst from one of them. Away over his j head something whistled like a rushing bird and sped off' invisible. They had fired a gun ; they were signalling to him, Clarence, like a grown-up man. He would have given his life at that moment to have had a gun, or even a little cannon, to have replied with. Bub he could only wave his hat frantically. One of the figures here bore away and impetuously darted forward again. He was coming nearer, powerful, gigantic, formidable, as he loomed through the darkness. All at once he threw up his arm with a wild gesture to the others, and his voice, manly,' frank and amusing, came ringing before him. 'Hold up! Good God! It's no Injin — it's a child'!' In another moment he had reined up beside Clarence, and leaned over him, bearded, handsome, powerful, protecting. 'Hallo ! What's all this ? \\ hat are you doing heie V' ' Lost from Mr Silsbee's train,' said Clarence, pointing to the now darkened west. ' Lost, how long ?' 'About three hour?. I thought they'd come back for us,' said Claience apologetically to this big, kindly man. ' And you kalkilaied to wait here for 'em ?' ' Yes, yes — I did — till I s&w you.' 'Then why in thunder didn't you light i out straight for us instead of hanging round here and drawing us out V j The boy hung his head. He knew his' reasons were unchanged, but all at once they seemed "very foolish and unmanly to speak out. ' Only that we were on the ke^n jump for Injins,' continued the stranger, 'we wouldn't have seen you at all, and might hey shot you when we did." What possessed you to stay here V' The boy was still silent. ' Kla'uns,' said a faint, sloepy, syrupy voice from the mosquite, 'take me:' The rifle shot had awakened Suzy. The stranger turned quickly towards the sound. Clarence started and recalled himself. 'There,' he said, bitterly, 'you've done it now : you've awakened her ! That's why I stayed : I couldn't carry her over there to you ! I couldn't let her walk, for she'd be frightened. I wouldn't wake her up, for she'd be frightened, and I mightn't find hey again. There !' He had made up his mind to be abused, but he was rock lets now that sre was safe. The men glanced at each other. ' There,' said the spokesman quietly, 'you didn't | stiike out for us on account of your sister ':' ' She ain't my sister,' said Clarence quickly. ' She's a little girl. This is Mrs Silsbee's little girl. We were in the waggon and got down. It's my fault. I helped her down. 1 The three men reined their horses closely round him, leaning forward from their saddles with their hands on their knees and their heads on one side. ' There,' saitl the spokesman, gravely. ' You just reckoned fco stay here, old man, and take your chances with her lather than run the risk of frightening her or leaving her, though it was your one chance of getting away ?' ' Yes,' so id the boy, scornful of this feeble grown-up. ' Come here.' The boy came doggedly forward. The man pushed back the veil- 'worn straw hat from Clarenco's forehead, and looked into his lowering tace. With his hand still on the boy's head he turned him round to the other?, and paid quietly : ' Something of a pup, eh ?' • You bet,' they responded, Tho voice was not unkindly, although the speaker had thrown his lower jaws forward po as to pronounce the word ' pup ' with a humorous suggestion of a mastiff. Before Clarence could make up his mind if the epithet was insulting or nob the man pub out his stirruped foot and with a gesture of invitation said, ' Jump up.' ' But Susy,' said Clarence, diawing back. 1 Look, she's making up to l'hil already.' Clarence looked. Suzy had crawled out of the mesquite and with her sunbonnet hanging down her back, her curls tossed around her face, still flushed with sleep, and Clarence's jacket over her shoulders, was gazing up with grave satisfaction in the laughing eyes of one of the men who was with outstretched hands bending over her. Could he believe his senses ? The | terror-stricken, wilful, unmanageable Suzy, of self-abnegation, whom he would have translated unconsciously to safety without this terrible ordeal of being awakened to the loss of: her home and parents at any sacrifice to himself — this ingenuous infant was absolutely throwing herself, with every appearance of forgebfuroeps, into the arms of the first newcomer ! Yet his perception of this fact was accompanied by no sense ot ingratitude. For her pake he felb relieved, and with a boyish smile of sabisfaction and encouragement vaulted into the saddle before the stranger. (To (-C Continued )

Tho little swell always likes to 1 each 'the great wavo of popularity.