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Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul cliche, it est film6 d partir de Tangle sup^rieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n6cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la m6thode. rata b elure. 1 2 3 2X 1 2 3 4 5 6 — — — . __1.. — 21_ The EDITH and LORNE PIERCE COLLECTION of CANADI ANA ^een's University at Kingston A ■ ■ ■-::A; G W E N If 'I •""^npmmBBPiiaHHmilHIB AN IDYLL milTHE \t ANTON RALPH CONNOR The Westminster Company Toronto, Canada Fleming H. Revell Company New York Chicago I \ ,^ X 73 e; ef Entered according to the Act of Parliament of Canada, in the year 1 899, by the Westminster Company, in the Office of the Minister of Agriculture (^ \ ^Itic TO ALL WHO QUESTION THE ^^//y OF HUMAN PAIN I 7^/^^/' fl r^ N iA O 3190 <^ FROM THE SKY PILOT ^m^ \\^^ Tmrnrnmrnm"^.] CONTENTS ~"" I. GWEN II II. GwEN's First Prayers .... 29 III. GwEN's Challenge 47 IV. Gwen's Canyon 65 V. The Canyon Flowers .... 81 '■!^-':^^m;^r-'^: '■H^'^:-. TO ' -^-^■'~-*i*y8't you seen her?" "fl^hl But she ain't like nuthin'." lywas quite decided upon this point. Ijtiied again. fell, what sort of hair has she got? She'll got hair, I suppose? " '^jiikyerl Well, a few! " said Bill, with some ch->.> -^ saved them both from great dan^r, perhaj>§ from death, for the rest of the c^tle were crowding near. Of course Bill could 'ntver ^ be persuaded to speak of the incident. A true Western man will never hesitate to tell you "1 f- what he can do, but of what he has dpnc he ^ does not readily speak. I ^ ^f' ^^ir>^ The only other item that Hi contributed to the sketch of Gwen was that her temper could blaze if the occasion demanded. "'Member young Hill, Bill?" Bill " 'membered." *' Didn't she cut into him sudden? Sarvicki him right, too." ^l "What did she do?" \j| " Cut him across the face with her quirt \ti good style." i "What for?" > " Knockin' about her Indian Joe." w Joe was, as I came to learn, Ponka's i)h and Gwen's most devoted slave. i " Oh, she ain't no refrigerator." * "Yes," assented Bill. "She's a leetle swift." Then, as if fearing he had been apologiz- t ' i6 GWEN ing for her, he added, with the air of one settling the question: " But she's good stock! She suits me ! " The Duke helped me to another side of her character. " She is a remarkable child," he said, one day. " Wild and shy as a coyote, but fear- less, quite; and with a heart full of passions. Meredith, the Old Timer, you know, has kept her up there among the hills. She sees no one but himself and Ponka's Blackfeet re- lations, who treat her like a goddess and help to spoil her utterly. She knows their lingo and their ways — goes off with them for a week at a time." " What ! With the Blackfeet ? " " Ponka and Joe, of course, go along; but n without them she is as safe as if sur- ed by the Coldstream Guards, but she ^iyen them up for some time now." ^nd at home ? " I asked. " Has she any eduction? Can she read or write? " *^jJ)irot she. She can make her own dresses, lTfe^;X ////' mQc^asins, and leggings. She can cook and W'^/ JW// Saish — that is, when she feels in the mood. . •■•«H.«i^ ^.'V«-#M>.>*i:^^ • •»»-»_.Aw*#3()f«»rTiJ*p^ ::5~3tsae;xi.«3»«iK«6c*.-.rf-*<'4 GWEN sj^lf ly And she knows all about the birds and beasts and flowers and that sort of thing, but — edu- cation I Why, she is hardly civilized I " " What a shame I " I said. " How old is she?" "Oh, a mere child; fourteen or fifteen, I imagine; but a woman in many things." " And what does her father say to all this? Can he control her?" " Control I " said The Duke, in utter aston- ishment. " Why, bless your soul, nothing in heaven or earth could control her/ Wait till you see her stand with her proud little head thrown back, giving orders to Joe, and you will never again connect the idea of control with Gwen. She might be a princess for the pride of her. IVe seen some, too, in my day, but none to touch her for sheer, imperial pride, little Lucifer that she is." " And how does her father stand her non- sense? " I asked, for I confess I was not much taken with the picture The Duke had drawn. " Her father simply follows behind her and adores, as do all things that come near her, down, or up, perhaps, to her two dogs— Wolf I. ■- *•*" *T^^^ 'bnMH i8 GIVEN and Loo — for either of which she would readily die if need be. Still," he added, after a pause, " it is a shame, as you say. She ought to know something of the refinements of civilization, to which, after all, she belongs, and from which none of us can hope to escape." The Duke was silent for a few moments, and then added, with some hesita- tion: " Then, too, she is quite a pagan; never a M^e^pok, you know." Ap;d^^O*^,came about, chiefly through The ulSk^influence, I imagine, that I was en- aged oy the Old Timer to go up to his ^ijanch every week and teach his daughter mething of the elementaries of a lady's >^ducation. My introduction was ominous of the many j^rnj^L^to suffer of that same young alafetvlbefore I had finished my course with J^er. " The Otd'Timer had given careful direc- tiqns as to the trail that would lead me to the (^anyoH where he was to meet me. Up the ^OTari'went the trail, winding ever downward into deeper and narrower coulees and up to higher open sunlit slopes, till suddenly it i ,-hiffi' ¥'C, '•^nfi-.tjrwWk' I :! GJVEN settled Into a valley which began with great width and narrowed to a canyon whose rocky sides were dressed out with shrubs and trail- ing vines and wet with trickling rivulets from the numerous springs that oozed and gushed from the black, glistening rocks. This can- yon was an eerie place of which ghostly tales were told from the old Blackfeet times. And to this day no Blackfoot will dare to pass through this black-walled, oozy, glistening canyon after the moon has passed the western lip. But in the warm light of broad day the canyon was a good enough place, cool and sweet, and I lingered through, waiting for the Old Timer, who failed to appear till the shadows began to darken its western black sides. Out of the mouth of the canyon the trail climbed to a wide stretch of prairie that swept up over soft hills to the left and down to the bright gleaming water of the Devil's Lake on the right. In the sunlight the lake lay like a gem radiant with many colors, the far side black In the shadow of the crowding pines, then in the middle deep, blue and purple, and \^\ \> 20 GIVEN nearer, many shades of emerald that ran quite to the white, sandy beach. Right in front stood the ranch buildings upon a slight rising ground and surrounded by a sturdy palisade of upright pointed poles. This was the castle of the princess. I rode up to the open gate, then turned and stood to look down upon the marvellous lake shining and shimmering with its many radiant colors. Suddenly there was an awful roar, my pony shot round upon his hind legs after his beastly cayuse manner, deposited me sittingupon the ground, and fled down the trail, pursued by two huge dogs that brushed past me as I fell. I was aroused from my amazement by a peal of laughter, shrill but ^ »^ full of music. Turning, I saw my pupil, as '^-ssj^^jikI'' guessed, standing at the head of a most \ "\ . A. peautiful pinto (spotted) pony with a heavy tiattle quirt in her hand. I scrambled to my t and said, somewhat angrily, I fear: '^V" Ml/ What are you laughing at? Why don't yoti call back your dogs? They will chase ^^^■''i my ppny beyond all reach." ; She lifted her little head, shook back her / /(masses of brown-red hair, looked at me as if ^-'^ f.«rW:Wr.^»-«e.«t.-#fi»ill(^;;.r^^.*,-V;«ifc»,t«»«i 'i *i i» *'»- 'y.->f ■ ntr^yr as ' .^ ' ' ^ ' i o- ^y ■■ - ■^^r*^--*^.*.^- 22 GIVEN at the huge brutes that were silently, but with awful and sure swiftness, running him down. The girl on the pinto whistled shrilly, and called to her dogs: " Down, Wolf 1 Back, Loo! " but, running low, with long, stretched bodies, they heeded not, but sped on, ever gaining upon the pony that now circled to- ward the pinto. As they drew near in their circling, the girl urged her pinco to meet them, loosening her lariat as she went. As the pony slackened his speed; im- r dog gathered herself in i^^rang for the pony's i^oihe sprang, the lariat ^rouncr tiKL:^Si s head and fell swift )g's neck, and the next :ing on the prairie. Her looked back, and gave up the iire vengeance overtook them, for, like one possessed, the girl fell upon them with her quirt and beat them one after the other till, in pity for the brutes, I interposed. " They shall do as I say or I shall kill them! I shall kill them! " she cried, raging and stamping. GJVEN 23 " Better shoot them," I suggested, pulling out my pistol. Immediately she flung herself upon the one that moaned and whined at her feet, crying: '* If you dare I If you dare ! " Then she burst into passionate sobbing. " You bad Loo I You bad, dear old Loo! But you were bad — you know you were bad! " and so she went on with her arms about Loo's neck till Loo, whining and quivering with love and delight, threatened to go quite mad, and Wolf, standing majestically near, broke into short howls of impatience for his turn of caressing. They made a strange group, those three wild things, equally fierce and passion- ate In hate and in love. Suddenly the girl remembered me, and standing up, she said, half ashamed : " They always obey me. They are mine, but they kill any strange thing that comes In through the gate. They are allowed to. M " It Is a pleasant whim." "What?" irrrtiiiTit ' A 'V--r;r:-s\~^ .■;ar«»fc#»'^Mt-4-^ —'--—- i^ir—iiiiiriAiiiiiM.%,-. ■\\ 24 GWEN " I mean isn't that dangerous to stran- gers ?" " Oh, no one ever comes alone, except The Duke. And they keep off the wolves." " The Duke comes, does he ? " " Yes I " and her eyes lit up. " He is my friend. He calls me his ' princess,' and he teaches me to talk and tells me stories — oh, wonderful stories I " I looked in wonder at her face, so gentle, so girlish, and tried to think back to the pic- ture of the girl who a few moments before had so coolly threatened to shoot me and had so furiously beaten her dogs. I kept her talking of The Duke as we walked back to the gate, watching her face the while. It was not beautiful; it was too thin, and the mouth was too large. But the teeth were good and the eyes, blue-black with gray rims, looked straight at you; true eyes and brave, whether in love or in war. Her hair was her glory. Red it was, in spite of Hi's denial, but of such marvellous, indescribable shade that in certain lights, as she rode over the prairie, it streamed behind her like a pur- ( . ^,i««#«i; ' .■ v"^.. ■ita-»'^'a^ .ia;.:S3S!raEg g'-fiBW I lil ll hi iil llM^. I ^ '!*^-\ mMm / the main or living GWEN 25 pie banner. A most confusing and bewilder- ing color, but quite in keeping with the nature of the owner. /|i She gave her pint^^oe, and, standing at the door, welcomed; jnej^ith a dignity and graciousness that |#||,Wi think that The Duke was not far Vi(||§lpen he named her " Princess." The door opened room. It was a lor^^^artment, with low ceiling and walls of ^l^wn logs chinked and plastered and all bea^i^My whitewash^ ^d ^he^-^fmde. t)n' the floor wexe wiagnifi- cent skinfM^volf, beair, musk ox, and moun- tarn goat. ^T^e wall$| were decorated with heads and h|Vns of deer and mc^ntain sheep, eagles' wingAj and a bekutiful br^^st of a loon, which Gwen/had shot and of which she was very proud, ^^^t one end of the poom a huge stone firepla|e stood radiant iif its summer decorations k ferns and gr;^s§es and wild- flowers. AtBe other [prid a 4^| opened into another ro^! smallei^' and riS^ furnished with relics^M i^ti^r granc^^ ' ^, ,. . .^ ^ i<; v< • !'''. 26 GWEN Everything was clean and well kept. Every nook, shelf, and corner was decked with flowers and ferns from the canyon. A strange house it was, full of curious con- trasts, but it fitted this quaint child that wel- comed me with such gracious courtesy. m \ - 1^" * «»:;*«M*-**' •^^^ 'w^T' "tUU-MNMMMUIlBU^ -^ Mmiwmmm ': GWEN'S FIRST PRAYE A If >i. I ■ li'i ■»^l«>.> l ^ ^ lfc ^ d Vi , ("' •J ^«W l y "yy% jKJtM ' jgWfl f »» i ,. *V»— ~r " « ■! " ■■ j '«>*w>«MMgw»i»i*»i>»»> 'W i «i ii»w»iii«ii»i»i«|l»i'»--^ — - ■ ■■•* . -'> - i^w;.i yi i - I 'j W i ^ n GWEN'S FIRST PRAYERS It was with hesitation, almost with fear, that I began with Gwen ; but even had I been able to foresee the endless series of exaspera- tions through which she was destined to con- duct me, still would I have undertaken my task. For the child, with all her wilfulness, her tempers, and her pride, made me, as she did all others, her willing slave. Her lessons went on, brilliantly or not at all, according to her sweet will. She learned to read with extraordinary rapidit}', for she was eager to know more of that great world of which The Duke had told her such thrill- ing tales. Writing she abhorred. She had no one to write to. Why should she cramp her fingers over these crooked little marks? But she mastered with hardly a struggle the mysteries of figures, for she would have to sell her cattle, and " dad doesn't know when 29 i( vjj mmmtk.^ ir 30 GWEN If "I . 1/ they are cheating." Her ideas of education were purely utilitarian, and what did not ap- pear immediately useful she refused to trifle with. And so all through the following long winter she vexed my righteous soul with her wilfulness and pride. An appeal to her father ^^-w^ftrsi^k. She wouldwiijjiirr^ong, thin arms^^bemfiiis necfe and let her w^ing red '^ir float over him until the old man was quite helpless to exert authority. The Duke could do most with her. To please him she would struggle with her crooked letters for an hour at a time, but even his influence and authority had its limits. " Must I ? " she said one day in answer to a demand of his for more faithful study; " must /.^ " And throwing up her proud little head, and shaking back, with a trick she had, her streaming red hair, she looked straight at him from her blue-gray eyes and sked the monosyllabic question, "Why?" d The Duke looked back at her with his light smile for a few moments and then said n cold, even tones: don't know why," and turned his K h ^kvf. ♦■^iw ^*^v<(l»«M-.rtc^ 3£3 GWEN'S FIRST PRAYERS 31 back on her. Immediately she sprang at him, shook him by the arm, and, quivering with passion, cried : " You are not to speak to me like that, and you are not to turn your back that way! " " What a little princess it is," he said ad- miringly, " and what a time she will give her- self some day ! " Then he added, smiling sadly: "Was I rude, Gwen? Then I am sorry." Her rage was gone and she looked as if she could have held him by the feet. As it was, too proud to show her feelings, she just looked at him with softening eyes, and then sat down to the work she had refused. This was after the advent of The Pilot at Swan Creek, and, as The Duke rode homey'^A ^ with me that night, after long musing hi^silol',, ^.lm^M?: with hesitation : " She ought- .■■■" ' " GWEN'S FIRST PRAYERS 33 " Well, he might be more ancient," ac- knowledged The Duke, "but in that he Is steadily improving." " Anyway," with an air of finality, " he is not to come here." But he did come, and under her own escort, one threatening August evening. "I found him in the creek," she an- nounced, with defiant shamefacedness, march- ing in The Pilot half drowned. " I think I could have crossed," he said apologetically, *' for Louis was getting on his feet again." • ^^ " No, you wouldn't," she protested. "You would have been down in the canyon by now, and you ought to be thankful." "So I am," he hastened to say, "very I But," he added, unwilling to give up his contention, "I have crossed the Swan before." "Not when it was in flood." " Yes, when it was in flood, higher than now." " Not where the banks are rocky." if 1 il I ! f r m^m. T \i >' II i\ 55^^*ei^PK^^W> yovt' would have been drowne J^uf for mf*t«dat I " she cried tri- umphantly. To this he doubtfully assented. They were much alike, in high temper, in enthusiasm, in vivid imagination, and in sensi- tive feeling. When the Old Timer came in Gwen triumphantly introduced The Pilot as having been rescued from a watery grave by her lariat, and again they fought out the pos- sibilities of drowning and of escape till Gwen almost lost her temper, and was appeased only by the most profuse expressions of gratitude on the part of The Pilot for her timely assist- ance. The Old Timer was perplexed. He was afraid to offend Gwen and yet unwilling to be cordial to her guest. The Pilot was quick to feel this, and, soon after tea, rose to go. Gwen's disappointment showed in her face. " Ask him to stay, dad," she said in a whisper. But the half-hearted invitation acted like a spur, and The Pilot was deter- mined to set off. GfVEN'S FIRST PRAYERS 35 "There's a bad storm coming," she said; " and besides," she added triumphantly, " you can't cross the Swan." This settled it, and the most earnest pray- ers of the Old Timer could not have held him back. We all went down to see him cross, Gwen leading her pinto. The Swan was far over its banks and in the middle running swift and strong. Louis snorted, refused, and finally plunged. Bravely he swam, till the swift- running water struck him, and over he went on his side, throwing his rider into the water. But The Pilot kept his head, and, holding by the stirrups, paddled along by Louis' side. When they were half-way across Louis saw he had no chance of making the landing; so, like a sensible horse, he turned and made for the shore. Here, too, the banks were high, and the pony began to grow dis- couraged. "Let him float down further! " shrieked Gwen, in anxious excitement; and, urging her pinto down the bank, she coaxed the strug- gling pony down the stream till opposite a I 36 GfVEN a shelf of rock level with the high water. Then she threw her lariat, and, catching Louis about the neck and the horn of his saddle, she held taut, till, half drowned, he scrambled up the bank, dragging The Pilot with him. "Oh, I'm so glad I" she said almost tearfully. *' You see you couldn't get across." The Pilot staggered to his feet, took a step toward her, gasped out : " I can ! " and pitched headlong. With a little cry she flew to him, and turned him over on his back. In a few moments he revived, sat up, and looked about stupidly. " Where's Louis? " he said, with his face toward the swollen stream. "Safe enough," she answered; "but you must come in, the rain is just going to pour." But The Pilot seemed possessed. " No, I'm going across," he said, rising. Gwen was great!/ distressed. " But your pi'or horse," she said, cleverly changing her ground; "he is quite tired out." GfVEN'S FIRST PRAYERS 37 The Old Timer now joined earnestly in urging him to stay till the storm was past. So, with a final look at the stream, The Pilot turned toward the house. Of course I knew what would happen. Before the evening was over he had captured the household. The moment he appeared with dry things on he ran to the organ, that had stood for ten years closed and silent, opened it, and began to play. As he played and sang song after song, the Old Timer's eyes began to glisten under his shaggy brows. But when he dropped into the exquis^ Irish ^ melody, "Oft in the Stilly Night, "'^tlfe ojd '-^ man drew a hard breath and groaned out /o me: f^ "It was her mother's song," and from that time The Pilot had him fast. It was easy to pass to the old hymn, " Nearer, My God, to Thee," and then The Pilot said simply, " May we have prayers? " He looked at Gwen, but she gazed blankly at him and then at her father. " What does he say, dad?" It was pitiful to see the old man'f. face ■0 I .M' I 1* 'J li deep tan, as he n none here for many years, and the worse for us." He rose slowly, went into the inner room, and re- turned with a Bible. " It's her mother's," he said. In a voice deep with emotion. " I put it in her trunk the day I laid her out yonder under the pines." The Pilot, without looking at him, rose and reverently took the book in both his hands and said gently: " It was a sad day for you, but for her " He paused. " You did not grudge it to her?" " Not now, but then, yes ! I wanted her, we needed her." Th** Old Timer's tears were flowing. The Pilot put his hand caressingly upon the old man's shoulder as if he had been his father, and said in his clear, sweet voice, " Some day you will go to her." Upon this scene poor Gwen gazed with eyes wide open with amazement and a kind GfVEN'S FIRST PRAYERS 39 of fear. She had never seen her father weep since the awful day that she could never forget, when he had knelt in dumb agony beside the bed on which her mother lay, white and still; nor would he heed her till, climbing up, she tried to make her mother waken and hear her cries. Then he had caught her up in his arms, pressing her with tears and great sobs to his heart. To-night she seemed to feel that something was wrong. She went and stood by her father, and, stroking his gray hair kindly, she said : " What is he saying, daddy? Is he mak- ing you cry? " She looked at The Pilot de- fiantly. *' No, no, child," said the old man hastily, " sit here and listen." And while the storm raved outside we three sat listening to that ancient story of love in- effable ''.nd, as the words fell like sweet vyvMc upon our ears, the old man sat with eyes that looked far away, while the child listened with devouring eagerness. '' Is it a fairy tale, daddy? " she asked, as The Pilot paused. " It isn't true, is it ? " and '( r 40 GWEN 1^ h her voice had a pleading note hard for the old man to bear. *' Yes, yes, my child," said he brokenly. " God forgive me I " *' Of course it's true," said The Pilot quickly. " I'll read it all to you to-morrow. It's a beautiful story 1 " " No," she said imperiously, " to-night. Read it now I Go on I " she said, stamping her foot; " don't you hear me? " The Pilot gazed in surprise at her, and then, turning to the old man, said : "Shall I?" The Old Timer simply nodded, and the reading went on. Those were not my best days, and the faith of my childhood was not as it had been; but, as The Pilot carried us through those matchless scenes of self-forget- ting love and service, the rapt wonder in the child's face as she listened, the appeal in her voice, as now to her father, and now to me, she cried: "Is that true, too? Is it all true?" made it impossible for me to hesitate in my answer. And I was glad to find it easy to give my firm adherence to the truth of all GWEN'S FIRST PRAYERS 41 that tale of wonder. And, as more and more it grew upon The Pilot that the story he was reading, so old tq hJL|?i and to all he had ever met, was new to one in that listening group, h\i face began to glow and his eyes to blaze, ^d he saw and showed me things that night I r Md^never seen before, nor have I seen them since. The great figure of the Gospels lived, moved before our eyes. We saw Him bend to touch the blind, we heard Him speak His marvellous teaching, we felt the throbbing excitement of the crowds that pressed against Him. Suddenly The Pilot stopped, turned over the leaves, and began again: " ' And He led them out as far as to Bethany. And He lifted up His hands and blessed them. And it came to pass as He blessed them He was parted from them and a cloud received Him out of their sight' " There was silence for some minutes, then Gwen said: " Where did He go ? " '' Up into Heaven," answered The Pilot simply. f 42 GIVEN "That's where mother is?" she said to her father, who nodded in reply. " Does He know ? " she asked. I'he old man looked distressed. " Of course He does," said The Pilot, " and she sees Him all the time." "Oh, daddy!" she cried, "isn't that good?" ^ut the old man only hid his face in his han ' i groaned. " Wc " went on The Pilot, " and He sees us, too, and hears us speak, and knows our thoughts." Again the look of wonder and fear came into her eyes, but she said no word. The ex- periences of the evening had made the world new to her. It could never be the same to her again. It gave me a queer feeling to see her, when we three kneeled to pray, stand help- lessly looking on, not knowing what to do, then sink beside her father, and, winding her arms about his neck, cling to him as the words of prayer were spoken into the ear of Him whom no man can see, but who, we believe, is near to all that call upon Him. GJVEN'S FIRST PRAYERS 43 Those were Gwen's first " prayers," and in them Gwen's part was small, for fear and wonder filled her heart; but the day was to come, and all too soon, when she should have to pour out her soul with strong crying and tears. That day came and passed, but the story of it is not to be told here. ^ ^"x V I f^.d-^" GWEN'S CHALLENGE pi ( i' '1; Ill GWEN'S CHALLENGE GWEN was undoubtedly wild and, as The Sky Pilot said, wilful and wicked. Even Bronco Bill and Hi Kendal would say so without, of course, abating one jot of their admiration for her. For fourteen years she had lived chiefly with wild things. The cat- tle on the range, wild as deer, the coyotes, the jack-rabbits, and the timber wolves were her mates and her instructors. From these she learned her wild ways. The rolling prairie of the Foothill country was her home. She loved it and all things that moved upon It with passionate love, the only kind she was capable of. And all summer long she spent her days riding up and down the range alone, or with her father, or with Joe, or, best of all, with The Duke, her hero and her friend. So she grew up strong, wholesome, and self-reliant, w 4i GWEN fearing nothing alive, and as untamed as a yearling range colt. She was not beautiful. The winds and sun had left her no complexion to speak of, but the glory of her red hair, gold-red, with pur- ple sheen, nothing could tarnish. Her eyes, too, deep blue with rims of gray, that flashed with the glint of steel or shone with melting light as of the stars, according to her mood — those Irish, warm, deep eyes of hers were worth a man's looking at. Of course, all spoiled her. Ponka and her son Joe grovelled in abjectest adoration, while her father and all who came within touch of her simply did her will. Even The Duke, who loved her better than anything else, yielded lazy, admiring homage to his Little Princess, and certainly, when she stood straight up with her proud little gold-crowned head thrown back, flashing forth wrath or issuing imperious commands, she looked a princess, all of her. It was a great day and a good day for her when she fished The Sky Pilot out of the Swan and brought him home, and the night of GH' EN'S CHALLENGE 49 Gwen's first " prayers," when she heard for the first time the story of the Man of Naza- reth, was the best of all her nights up to that time. All through the winter, under The Pilot's guidance, she, with her father, the Old Timer, listening near, went over and over that story so old now to many, but ever becoming new, till a whole new ^orld of mysterious Powers and Presences lay^o{)€Il to her imagina- tion and became the hoj;hc^'pf grtat^ealities. She was rich in imagination^ and, when TJie Pilot read Bunyan's immort^jil poem, ker mother's old " Pilgrim's Pippgress/' she moved and lived beside the hero d(f that tale, backing him up in his fights andf (Ipnsumcd with anxiety over his many impendpnijg perils, till she had him safely across the rijyer and delivered into the charge of theL* shininfe ones. / /*"' The Pilot himself, too, was af' new* and wholesome experience. He was trie first thing she had yet encountered that refused submission, and the first hurp^n be'i.^ that had failed to fall down ^d worship. There was something in him thlbtli9tmi4,iio^fe»4/tt^»^.:£i_ I could not shake of? the impression her tj, words made upon me. " Pretty direct, that," \ J^'F tsaid to The Pilot, as we rode away. " The ,.^1^'^h. declaration may be philosophically correct, but '^-'^ ' w It rings uncommonly like a challenge to the Almighty. Throws down the gauntlet, so to speak." GWEN'S CH^LL^NGlE 53^ " ■ ■ * But The Pilot only said, " Don't! How ^\ 3 "? " \ can you Within a week her challenge was accepted, and how fiercely and how gallantly did she , struggle to make it good I • ;sj„\./:^ It was The Duke that brought me the news, x^f-^T^ and as he told me the story his gay, careless ' '%v self-command for once was gone. For in the gloom of the canyon where he overtook me I could see his white face gleaming out ghastly white, and even his iron nerve could not keep the tremor from his voice. " I've just sent up the doctor," was his an- swer to my greeting. " Hooked for you last night, couldn't find you, and so rode off to the Fort." "What's up?" I said, with fear in my heart, for no light thing moved The Duke. "Haven't you heard? It's Gwen," he said, and the next minute or two he gave to Jingo, who was indulging in a series of unex- pected plunges. When Jingo was brought down, The Duke was master of himself and told his tale with careful self-control. mmmmmmmmaKl I n (^ ^m GW EN Gwen, on her father's buckskin bronco, had gone with The Duke to the big plain above ?,_ .^"y the cut-bank where Joe was herding the cattle. ^ '>fffi Ae day was hot and a storm was in the air. Th%y, found Joe riding up and down, singing v to keep the cattle quiet, but having a hard tjjtni^- to hold the bunch from breaking. While The Duke was riding arou . the far side of the bunch, a cry from Gwen arrested his attention. Joe was in trouble. His horse, a half-broken cayuse, had stumbled into a badger-hole and had bolted, leaving Joe to the mercy of the cattle. At once they began to sniff suspiciously at this phenomenon, a man on foot, and to follow cautiously on his track. Joe kept his head and walked slowly out, till all at once a young cow began to bawl and to paw the ground. In another minute one and then another of the cattle began to toss their heads and bunch and bellow till the whole herd of two hundred were after Joe. Then Joe lost his head and ran. Immediately the whole herd broke into a thundering gallop, with heads and tails aloft and horns rattling like the loading of a regiment of rifles. GWEN'S CHALLENGE 55 " Two more minutes," said The Duke, " would have done for Joe, for I could never have reached him; but, in spite of my most frantic warnings and signalings, right into the face of that mad, bellowing, thundering mass of steers rode that little girl. Nerve! I have some myself, but I couldn't have done it. She swung her horse round Joe and sailed out with him, with the herd bellowing at the tail of her bronco. I've seen some cavalry things in my day, but for sheer cool bravery nothing touches that." "How did it end? Did they run them down ? " I asked, with terror at such a result. "No, they crowded her toward the cut- bank, and she was edging them off and was almost past, when they came to a place where the bank bit in, and her iron-mouthed brute wouldn't swerve, but went pounding on, broke through, plunged; she couldn't spring free because of Joe, and pitched headlong over the bank, while the cattle went thundering past. I flung myself off Jingo and slid down some- how into the sand, thirty feet below. Here t '•'5^ I : ^ \ GWEN was Joe safe enough, but the bronco lay with a broken leg, and half under him was Gwen. She hardly knew she was hurt, but waved her hand to me and cried out, * Wasn't that a race? I couldn't swing this hard-headed brute. Get me out.' But even as she spoke the light faded from her eyes, she stretched out her hands to me, saying faintly, ' Oh, Duke,' and lay back white and still. We put a bullet into the buckskin's head, and carried her home in our jackets, and there she lies without a sound from her poor, white lips." The Duke was badly cut up. I had never seen him show any sign of grief before, but as he finished the story he stood ghastly and shaking. He read my surprise in my face, and said: " Look here, old chap, don't think me quite a fool. You can't know what that little girl has done for me these years. Her trust in me — it is extraordinary how utterly she trusts me — somehow held me up to my best and back from perdition. It is the one bright spot in my life in this blessed country. Every- ')^- GIFEN'S CHALLENGE 57 one else thinks me a pleasant or unpleasant' kind of fiend." I protested rather faintly. ^ " Oh, don't worry your conscience," he an- swered, with a slight return of his old smile ; *' a fuller knowledge would only justify the opinion." Then, after a pause, he added: " But if Gwen ^s, I must pull out, I could not stand it." w ". ' As we rode up, the doctor came out. " Well, what do you think? " asked The Duke. «Hi^ «>' " Can't say yet," replied the old doctor, gruff with long army practice, " bad enough. Good-night." But The Duke's hand fell upon his shoulder with a grip that must have gone to the bone, and in a husky voice he asked: "Will she live?" The doctor squirmed, but could not shake off that crushing grip. " Here, you young tiger, let go ! What do you think I am made of? " he cried angrily. " I didn't suppose I was coming to a bear's den, or I should have brought a gun." V '■■ I T*« GWEN It was only by the most complete apology that The Duke could mollify the old doctor sufficiently to get his opinion. " No, she will not die ! Great bit of stuff 1 Better she should die, perhaps I But can't say yet for two weeks. Now remember," he added sharply, looking into The Duke's woe- stricken face, " her spirits must be kept up. I have lied most fully and cheerfuiiy to them Inside; you must do the same," and the doctor strode away, calling out: • "Joe! Here, Joe! Where is he gone? Joe, I say! Extraordinary selection Provi- dence makes at times; we could have spared that lazy half-breed with pleasure! Joel Oh, here you are! Where In thunder " But here the doctor stopped abruptly. The agony In the dark face before him was too much even for the bluff doctor. Straight and stiff Joe stood by the horse's head till the doc- tor had mounted, then with a great effort he said: " Little miss, she go dead?" " Dead! " called out the doctor, glancing at the open window. " Why, bless your old GWEN'S CHALLENGE copper carcass, no ! Gwen will show yo\i yet -^ how to rope a steer." ^^Hp Joe took a step nearer, and lowering his tone said: < " You speak me true? Me man, Me no papoose." The piercing black eyes searched the doctor's face. The doctor hesitated a mo- ment, and then, with an air of great candor, said cheerfully : " That's all right, Joe. Miss Gwen will cut circles round your old cayuse yet. But remember," and the doctor was very impress- ive, " you must make her laugh every day." Joe folded his arms across his breast and stood like a statue till the doctor rode away; then, turning to us, he grunted out : "Him good man, eh?" " Good man," answered The Duke, add- ing, " but remember, Joe, what he told you to do. Must make her laugh every day." Poor Joe ! Humor was not his forte, and his attempts in this directjorLin.the weeks that followed would /^ave been humordrili^.jvere they not so pathetifcv How I did my part rian- ijot tell. Those weeks are to me now like the '^iSrCiXi-;^^^^ 6o GIVEN \ memory of an ugly nightmare. The ghostly old man moving in and out of his little daugh- ter's room in useless, dumb agony; Ponka's woe-stricken Indian face; Joe's extraordinary and unusual but loyal attempts at fun-making grotesquely sad, and The Duke's unvarying and invincible cheeriness; these furnish light and shade for the picture my memory brings me of Gwen in those days. For the first two weeks she was simply heroic. She bore her pain without a groan, submitted to the imprisonment which was harder than pain with angelic patience. Joe, The Duke, and I carried out our instructions with careful exactness to the letter. She never doubted, and we never let her doubt but that In a few weeks she would be on the pinto's back again and after the cattle. She made us pass our word for this till it seemed as if she must have read the falsehoods on our brows. " To lie cheerfully, with her eyes upon one's face, calls for more than I possess," said The Duke one day. " The doctor should supply us tonics. It is an arduous task." GWEN'S CHALLENGE 6i And she believed us absolutely, and made plans for the fall " round up," and for hunts and rides till one's heart grew sick. As to the ethical problem involved, I decline to ex- press an opinion, but we had no need to wait for our punishment. Her trust in us, her eager and confident expectation of the return of her happy, free, outdoor life ; these brought to us, who knew how vain they were, their own adequate punishment for every false as- surance we gave. And how bright and brave she was those first days! How resolute to get back to the world of air and light out- side ! But she had need of all her brightness and courage and resolution before she was done with her long fight. .ii|.'4.fl.tiMil" i! a --,h; iBSafSjiSi' ■icJS.i-*5» . ? ff iL^M^- c^iL^y^; 'W" ■ ■ V *> ■' -*~«*fc.w.-*--c.*- J f IV f- GWEN'S CANYON ~-^~ GwEN's hope and bright courage, in spite of all her pain, were wonderful to witness. But all this cheery hope and courage and pa- tience snuffed out as a candle, leaving noisome darkness to settle down in that sick-room from the day of the doctor's consultation. The verdict was clear and final. The old doctor, who loved Owen as his own, was in- clined to hope against hope, but Fawcett, the clever young doctor from the distant town, was positive in his opinion. The scene is clear to me now, after many years. We three stood in the outer room; The Duke and her father were with Gwen. So earnest was the discussion that none of us heard the door open just as young Fawcett was saying in incisive tones : " No I I can see no hope. The child can never walk again." ^ GWEN There was a cry behind us. "Whatl Never walk again I It's a lie 1" There stood the Old Timer, white, fierce, shaking. *' Hush 1 " said the old doctor, pointing at the open door. He was too late. Even as he spoke, there came from the inner room a wild, unearthly cry as of some dying thing, and, as we stood gazing at one another with awe-stricken faces, we heard Gwen's voice as in quick, sharp pain. " Daddy I daddy 1 come I What do they say? Tell me, daddy. It is not true! It is not true 1 Look at me, daddy I " She pulled up her father's haggard face from the bed. " Oh, daddy, daddy, you know it's true. Never walk again ! " She turned with a pitiful cry to The Duke, who stood white and stiff with arms drawn tight across his breast on the other side of the bed. "Oh, Duke, did you hear them? You told me to be brave, and I tried not to cry when they hurt me. But I can't be brave! / I M E AT^m^iV YON 6; She stmched'put her hands to him. But The Duke, leaniri^viHher and holding her,. ....'^. hands fast in his, cou^ only say brokenly, over ;v#;%-^ and over: " Don^JSWjftnj: Don't, Gwen, "~ dear ^i^f^/ /■■■■^^^ But the pit^, plej^ijig voice went on : "Oh, Duke! Must jl always lie here? Must I ? Why must wkf^ "^l: ■■ K" % " God knows," ans^^ri^d The Duke bik terly, under his breath, " Idon'tl " She caught at the word. " Does He ? " she cried eagerly. Then she paused suddenly, turned to me, and said: " Do you remember he said some day I could not do as I liked?" I was puzzled. "The Pilot," she cried impatiently. " Don't you remember? And I said I should do as I liked till I died." I nodded my head and said: "But you know you didn't mean -t." " But I did, and I do," she cried, with pas- sionate vehemence, " and I will do as I like. I // 68 GWEN I will not lie here ! I will ride ! I will ! I will I I will ! " and she struggled up, clenched her fists, and sank back faint and weak. It was not a pleasant sight, but gruesome. Her rage against that Unseen Omnipotence was so defiant and so helpless. Those were dreadful weeks to Gwen and to all about her. The constant pain could not break her proud spirit; she shed no tears; but she fretted and chafed and grew more im- periously exacting every day. Ponka and Joe she drove like a slave master, and even her father, when he could not understand her wishes, she impatiently banished from her room. Only The Duke could please or bring her any cheer, and even The Duke began to feel that the day was not far off when he, too, would fail, and the thought made him despair. Her pain was hard to bear, but harder than the pain was her longing for the open air and the free, flower-strewn, breeze-swept prairie. But most pitiful of all were the days when, in her utter weariness and uncontrollable unrest, she would pray to be taken down into the canyon. 'W ^ GfFEN'S CANYON 69 ** Oh, it is so cool and shady," she would plead, " and the flowers up in the rocks, and the vines and things, are all so lovely. I am always better there. I know I should be bet- ter," till The Duke would be distracted and would come to me and wonder what the end would be. One day, when the strain had been more terrible than usual, The Duke rode down to me and said: '"^ "^^^^^S.::: " Look here, this thing can't go on. Where is The Pilot gone? Why doesn't he stay where he belongs? I wish to Heaven he would get through with his absurd rambling." " He's gone where he was sent," I replied shortly. '' You don't set much store by hira when he does come round. He is gone on an exploring trip through the Dog Lake coun- try. He'll be back by the end of next week." " I say, bring him up, for Heaven's sake,'* said The Duke; " he may be of some use, and anyway it will be a new face for her, poor child." Then he added, rather penitently: ',\\ " I fear this thing is getting on to my nerves. M y. ?\., f' .'0- J /*. ti%'. i 70 G[py E N ' II /;■ She almost drove me out to-day. Don't lay it up against me, old chap." It was a new thing to hear The Duke con- fess his need of any man, much less penitence for a fault. I felt my eyes growing dim, but I said roughly: " You be hanged ! I'll bring The Pilot up when he comes." It was wonderful how we had all come to confide in The Pilot during his year of mis- sionary work among us. Somehow the cow- boy's name of " Sky Pilot " seemed to express better than anything else the place he held with U3. Certain it is that when, in their dark hours, any of the fellows felt in need of help to strike the " upward trail," they went to The Pilot; and so the name first given in chaff came to be the name that expressed most truly the deep an4 tender feeling these rough, big-hearted men cherished for him. When The Pilot came home I carefully pre- pared him for his trial, telling all that Gwen had suffered and striving to make him feel hpw desperate was her case when even The Puke had to confess himself beaten. He did GfVEN'S CJNYON ft not seem sufficiently impressed. Then I pic- tured for him all her fierce wilfulness and her fretful humors, her impatience with those who loved her and were wearing out their souls and bodies for her. " In short," I concluded, " she doesn't care a rush for anything in heaven or earth, and will yield to neither man nor God." The Pilot's eyes had been kindling as I talked, but he only answered quietly: " What could you expect? " " Well, I do think she might show some signs of gratitude and some gentleness to- wards those ready to die for her." " Oh, you do I " said he, with high scorn. " You all combine to ruin her temper and dis- position with foolish flattery and weak yield- ing to her whims, right or wrong; you smile at her imperious pride and encourage her wil- fulness, and then not only wonder at the re- sults, but blame her, poor child, for all. Oh, you are a fine lot, The Duke and all of you I " He had a most exasperating ability for put- ting one in the wrong and I could only think of the proper and sufficient reply long after 72 GWEN ^-f/ c^ ,1 fli the opportunity for making it had passed. I wondered what The Duke would say to this doctrine. All the following day, which was Sunday, I could see that Gwen was on The Pilot's mind. He was struggling with the problem of pain. '-"*:?*r>-^^ Monday morning found us on the way to the Old Timer's ranch. And what a morn- ing it was! How beautiful our world seemed I About us rolled the round-topped, J^ydvet hilis, brown and yellow or faintly green, spreading out behind us to the broad prairie, and before, clambering up and up to meet the purple bases of the great mountains that lay their mighty length along the hori- zon and thrust up white, sunlit peaks into the blue sky. On the hillsides and down in the sheltering hollows we could see th bunches of cattle and horses feeding upon the rich grasses. High above, the sky, cloudless and blue, arched its great kindly roof from prairie to mountain peaks, and over all, above, below, upon prairie, hillsides, and mountains, the sun poured his floods of radiant yellow light. As we followed the trail that wound up GLEN'S CANYON 73 and into the heart of these rounded hills and ever nearer to the purple mountains, the morn- ing breeze swept down to meet us, bearing a thousand scents, and filling us with its own fresh life. One can know the quickening joy- ousness of these Foothill breezes only after he has drunk, with wide-open mouth, deep and full of them. Through all this mingling beauty of sunlit hills and shady hollows and purple, snow- peaked mountains, we rode with hardly a word, every minute adding to our heart-filling delight, but ever with the thought of the little room where, shut in from all this outside glory, lay Gwen, heart-sore with fretting and longing. This must have been in The Pilot's mind, for he suddenly held up his horse and burst out: " Poor Gwen, how she loves all this I— it is her very life. How can she help fretting the heart out of her ? To see this no more ! '* He flung himself off his bronco and said, as if . thinking aloud: *' It is too awful I Oh, It is cruel! I don't wonder at her I God help me, what can I say to her?" mmmmmummmm 74 GPyEN He threw himself down upon the grass and turned over on his face. After a few minutes he appealed to me, and his face was sorely troubled : "How can one go to her? It seems to me sheerest mockery to speak of patience and submission to a wild young thing from whom all this is suddenly snatched forever — and this was very life to her, too, re- member." Then he sprang up and we rode hard for an hour, till we came to the mouth of the canyon. Here the trail grew difficult, and we came to a walk. As we went down into the cool depths the spirit of the canyon came to meet us and took The Pilot in its grip. He rode In front, feasting his eyes on all the wonders in that storehouse of beauty. Trees of many kinds deepened the shadows of the canyon. Over us waved the big elms that grew up here and there out of the bot- tom, and around their feet clustered low cedars and hemlocks and balsams, while the sturdy, rugged oaks and delicate, trembling poplars clung to the rocky sides and clam- livf' GfVEN'S CANYON 75 bered up and out to the canyon's sunny lips. Back of all, the great black rocks, decked with mossy bits and clinging things, glistened cool and moist between the parting trees. From many an oozy nook the dainty clematis and columbine shook out their bells, and, lower down, from beds of many-colored moss the late wind-flower and maiden-hair and tiny vio- let lifted up brave, sweet faces. And through the canyon the Little Swan sang its song to^ v^ rocks and flowers and overhanging ti;ces^ . f i-"^^'"^ song of many tones, deep-booming where^tE^ "^ ~ took its first sheer plungeV^ay-chattering where it threw it^lf dowaitjfc tagged focks, and soft-murremfing wh«re it lingered abGut| the roots of the loving, listening elms, i^^ cool, sweeti sootWng place it was, with all i shades and sounds ai;id silences, atid, lest should be sad to ian^, t^e. sharp, quick s beams danced and laughed down through a its leaves upon mosses, flowers, and rO€ks< \, No wonder that The Pilot, drawing a deep breath as he touched the prairie sod again, said: < ^ " That does me good. It is better at times /atK-. 76 GfFEN 1^ It even than the sunny hills. This was Gwen's best spot." I saw that the canyon had done Its work with him. His face was strong and calm as the hills on a summer morning, and with this face he looked in upon Gwen. It was one of her bad days and one of her bad moods, but like a summer breeze he burst into the little room. " Oh, Gwen 1 " he cried, without a word of greeting, much less of commiseration, " we have had such a ridel " And he spread out the sunlit, round-topped hills before her, till I'^uld feel their very breezes in my face. Thi!j[ The Duke had never dared to do, fear- ing to grieve her with pictures of what she Should look upon no more. But, as The 'Pllot talked, before she knew, Gwen was out ^gain upon her beloved hills, breathing their firesh, Siinny air, filling her heart with their multitudinous delights, till her eyes grew bi|ighti and the lines of fretting smoothed out of jW(t^ face and she forgot her pain. Then, b( rojre she could remember, he had her down inltD pie canyon, feasting her heart with its m \ V m u-% GfVEN'S CANYON 77 airs and sights and sounds. The black, glis- tening rocks, tricked out with moss and trail- ing vines, the great elms and lo^^^, green cedars, the oaks and shivering poplars, the clematis and columbine hanging from the rocky nooks, and the violets and maiden-hair deep bedded in their mosses. All this and far more he showed her with a touch so light as not to shake the morning dew from bell or leaf or frond, and with a voice so soft and full of music as to fill our hearts with the canyon's mingling sounds, and, as I looked upon her face, I said to myself: " Dear old Pilot! for this I shall always love you well." As poor Gwen listened, the rapture of it drew the big tears down her cheeks — alas I no longer brown, but white, and for that day at least the dull, dead weariness was lifted from her heart. li U ' m t p '% THE C AN YOH FLOWERS Tr'\ I ^ \ H V THE CANtON I^^ ..,.frf^^: >e.*^' WERS y The Pilot's first vi^t to 6wen had been Jj. triumph. But none knew better than he tfiat the fight was still to come, for deep in GWen's heart ^vere thoughts whose pain made hcr for- get all other. ^^ "Was it God let me fall?" she asked abruptly one day, and The Pilot knew the fight was on; but he only answered, looking fearlessly into her eyes: " Yes, Gwen, dear." *' Why did He let me fall ? " and her voice was very deliberate. *' T don't know, Gwen, dear," said The Pilot steadily. " He knows." " And does He know I shall never ride again? Does He know how long the days are, and the nights when I can't sleep ? Does He know?" " Yes, Gwen, dear," said The Pilot, and 8l rr- HI h i • m GfVEN the tears were standing in his eyes, though his voice was still steady enough. "Are you jure he knows?" The voice was painfully intense. " Listen to me, Gwen," began The Pilot, in great distress, but she cut him short. "Are you quite sure He knows? An- swer me ! " she cried, with her old impe- riousness. " Yes, Gwen, He knows all about you." " Then what do you think of Him, just be- cause He's big and strong, treating a little girl that way?" Then she added viciously: " I hate Him ! I don't care ! I hate Him ! " But The Pilot did not wince. I wondered how he would solve that problem that was puzzling, not only Gwen, but her father and The Duke, and all of us — the why of human pain. " Gwen," said The Pilot, as if changing the subject, " did it hurt to put on the plaster Jacket?'- ** Tou Just bcf!"^" said Gwen, lapsing in her English, as The Duke was not present; " it rf»iawW^. worse than anything — awful! They -1 " I ! THE CANYON FLOWERS 83 had to straighten me out, you know," and she shuddered at the memory of that pain. " What a pity your father or The Duke was not here ! " said The Pilot earnestly. " Why, they were both here ! " "What a cruel shame!" burst out The Pilot. " Don't they care for you any more?" " Of course they do," said Gwen Indig- nantly. " Why didn't they stop the doctors from hurting you so cruelly?" '* Why, they let the doctors. It is going to help me to sit up and perhaps to walk about a little," answered Gwen, with gray-blue eyes open wide. *' Oh," said The Pilot, " it was very mean to stand by and see you hurt like that." " Why, you silly," replied Gwen impa- tiently, " they want my back to get straight and strong." * *' Oh, then they didn't do it just for fun or for nothing?" said The Pilot innocently. Gwen gazed at him in amazed and speech- less wrath, and he went on : .i'l » 84 GW EN " I mean they love you, though they let you be hurt; or rather they let the doctors hurt you because they loved you and wanted to make you better." Gwen kept her eyes fixed v/Ith curious ear- nestness upon his face till the light began to dawn. " Do you mean," she began slowly, '* that though God let me fall. He loves me? " The Pilot nodded; he could not trust his voice. *' I wonder if that can be true," she said, as if to herself; and soon we said good-by and came away — The Pilot limp and voiceless, but I triumphant, for I began to see a little light for Gwen. But the fight was by no means over; in- deed, it was hardly well begun. For when the autumn came, with its misty, purple days, most glorious of all days in the cattle country, the old restlessness came back and the fierce refusal of her lot. Then came the day of the round-up. Why should she have to stay while all went after the cattle? The Duke would have remained, but she impatiently THE CANYON FLOWERS 85 sent him away. She was very weary and heart-sick, and, worst of all, she began to feel "^ ' that most terrible of burdens, the burden o^ her life to others. I was much relieved when x>\ The Pilot came in fresh and bright, waving / a bunch of wild-flowers in his hai^d. " 1 thought they were all gont," he crJed^y *' Where do you think I found them? Righ^, down by the big elm root," and, though h^' saw by the settled gloom of her face that th^o storm was coming, he went bravely on pic turing the canyon in all the splendor of ^t autumn dress. But the spell would not wor Her heart was out on the sloping hills, where the cattle were bunching and crowding with tossing heads and rattling horns, and it was in a voice very bitter and impatient that she cried: " Oh, I am sick of all this ! I want to ride I I want to see the cattle and the men and — and — and all the things outside." The Pilot was cowboy enough to know the longing that tugged at her heart for one wild race after the calves or steers, but he could rk. ily say (i Wait, Gwen. Try to be patient. M li ♦] ri^ 86 GWEN *' I am patient; at least I have been patient for two whole months, and it's no use, and I don't believe God cares one bit ! " " Yes, He does, Gwen — more than any of us," replied The Pilot earnestly. " No, He does not care," she answered, with angry emphasis, and The Pilot made no reply. " Perhaps," she went on hesitatingly, " He's angry because I said I didn't care for Him, you remember? That was very wicked. But don't you think I'm punished nearly enough now? You made me very angry, and I didn't really mean it." Poor Gwen ! God had grown to be very real to her during these weeks of pain, and very terrible. The Pilot looked down a moment into the blue-gray eyes, grown so big and so pitiful, and hurriedly dropping on his knees beside the bed he said, in a very unsteady voice: " Oh, Gwen, Gwen, He's not like that. Don't you remember how Jesus was with the poor sick people? That's what He's like." *' Couid Jesus make me well?" THE CANYON FLOWERS 87 " Yes, Gwen." " Then why doesn't He? " she asked; and there was no impatience now, but only trem- bling anxiety as she went on in a timid voice : " I asked Him to, over and over, and said I would wait two months, and now it's more than three. Are you quite sure He hears now? " She raised herself on her elbow and gazed searchingly into The Pilot's face. I was glad it was not into mine. As she uttered the words, " Are you quite sure?" one felt that things were in the balance. I could not help looking at The Pilot with intense anxiety. What would he answer? The Pilot gazed out of the window upon the hills for a few moments. How long the silence seemed! Then, turning, he looked into the eyes that searched his so steadily and answered simply : " Yes, Gwen, I am quite sure ! " Then, with quick inspiration, he got her mother's Bible and said: "Now, Gwen, try to see it as I read." But before he read, with the true artist's instinct he .created the proper atmos- phere. B^T:^ lew vivid word§^'he made feel the pa^fc^tic loneliness mm '^i 88 GIVEN Sorrows in His last sad days. Then he read that masterpiece of all tragic picturing, the story of Gethsemane. And as he read we saw it all. The garden and the trees and the sor- row-stricken Man alone with His mysterious agony. We heard the prayer so pathetically submissive, and then, for answer, the rabble and the traitor. Gwen was far too quick to need explana- tion, and The Pilot only said, " You see, Gwen, God gave nothing but the best — to His own Son only the best." " The best ? They took Him away, didn't they? " She knew the story well. " Yes, but listen." He turned the leaves rapidly and read: "'We see Jesus for the suffering of death crowned with glory and honor.' That is how He got His Kingdom." Gwen listened silent but unconvinced, and then said slowly : '* But how can this be best for me ? I am no use to anyone. It can't be best to just lie here and make them all wait on me, and — and — I did want to help daddy — and — oh — I know they will get tired of me ! They are » > THE CANYON FLOlVERt getting tired already. I — I — can't hel being hateful." She was by this time sobbing as I Jiad n heard her before — deep, passionate sob Then again The Pilot had an inspiration. '* Now, Gwen," he said severely, ^' yO know we're not as mean as that, and that y are just talking nonsense, every word. NpV^ I'm going to smooth out your red hair and 'lij tell you a story." ///'^Ji " It's not red," she cried, between her s This was her sore point. " It is red as red can be; a beautiful, shMjj|(^ / ^f/ ing purple red,'' said The Pilot emphatically, beginning to brush. " Purple ! " cried Gwen scornfully. " Yes, I've seen it in the sun, purple. Haven't you? " said The Pilot, appealing to me. " And my story is about the canyon, our canyon, your canyon, down there." " Is it true? " asked Gwen, already soothed by the cool, quick-moving hands. " True? It's as true as — as" — he glanced round the room — " as the Pilgrim's Progress." This was satisfactory, and the story went on. ^«K ■ r 90 GJy EN *' At first there were no canyons, but only '.the broad, open prairie. One day the Mas- i\' i' 'iter of the Prairie, walliing out over his great lawns, where were only grasses, asked the 'f\ ^ Prairie, 'Where are your flowers?' and the ^^L. Prairie said, 'Master, I have no seeds.' Then he spoke to the birds, and they carried seeds of every kind of flower and strewed them far and wide, and soon the Prairie bloomed with crocuses and roses, and buffalo beans and the yellow crowfoot, and the wild sunflowers and red lilies all the summer long. Then the Master came and was well pleased; but he \ missed the flowers he loved best of all and he \^ said to the Prairie, ' Where are the clematis and the columbme, the sweet violets and wind flowers, and all the ferns and flowering shrubs?' And again he spoke to the birds, and again they carried all the seeds and strewed them far and wide. But, again, when the Master came, he could not find the flowers he loved best of all, and he said, ' Where are those, my sweetest flowers ? ' and the Prairie cried sorrowfully, ' Oh, Master, I cannot keep the flowers, for the winds sweep fiercely, and :' ! THE CANYON FLOjrERS 91 the sun beats upon my breast, and they wither up and fly away.' Then the Master spoke to the Lightning, and with one swift blow the Lightning cleft the Prairie to the heart. And the Prairie rocked and groaned in agony, and for many a day moaned bitterly over its black, jagged, gaping wound. But the Litt^le Swai^ ^v, poured its waters through the cleft, and carried 1 down deep black mould, and once rtlore tha j birds carried seeds and strewed tnenjjj in th^ ^ canyon. And after a long time the rouj^ rock(ix were decked out with soft mosses andtmdiHg vines, and all the nooks were hung wiidb clerrij- atis and columbine, and great elms Wiif^ their huge tops high up into the sunlight, aiwl dow | about their feet clustered the low cec&jrs an balsams, and everywhere the violets and wind flowers and maidtp-hair grew and bloomed, ,^"1^? ^.y h;i^' till the canyon became the Master's place fo^ rest and peace and joy* ., .i;^ .^ /\ •' The luaint tale wis ^' then said gently ;,"^^"'^'»fVVl "Yes. The canybn flowers arc much the • ' ^ best. Tell me what it means.'^ '( '*' "-iJCfs* >^4).> •V, Then The Pilot read to her: *' ' The frui^>^ \ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1.25 4 50 IIIM IIIIL2.5 IIIIIM ||||Z2 IIIM ^ lAo nil 2.0 1.8 U i 1.6 ^/M' ^ /a °^- '3 ;^# % Hi "l O ^/\ 7 /A Photographic Sciences Corporation \ \ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80 (716) 872-4503 m ^•v iV \\ '% .V w ^ ♦'■ o^ V >> m C/a O^ 92 GWEN f: — I'll read " flowers '* — of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, good- ness, faith, meekness, self-control, and some of these grow only in the canyon.' " "Which are the canyon flowers?" asked Gwen softly, and The Pilot answered : "Gentleness, meekness, self-control; but /^though the others, love, joy, peace, bloom in the open, yet never with so rich a bloom and sp sweet a perfume as in the canyon." For a long time Gwen lay quite still, and then said wistfully, while her lip trembled: " There are no flowers in my canyon, but nly ragged rocks." day they will bloom, Gwen, dear; ill find them, and we, too, shall see /A7\Then he said good-by and took me away. i/^yv H^ wad done his work that day. e rode through the big gate, down the g hill, past the smiling, twinkling little and down again out of the broad sun- into the shadows and soft lights of the n. As we followed the trail that wound ^mdng the elms and cedars, the very air was [ THE CANYON FLOyVERS 93 full of gentle stillness; and as we moved we seemed to feel the touch of loving hands that lingered while they left us, and every flower and tree and vine and shrub and the soft mosses and the deep-bedded ferns whispered, as we passed, of love and peace and joy. To The Duke it was all a wonder, for as the days shortened outside they brightened inside; and every day, and more and more, Gwen's room became the brightest spot in all the house, and when he asked The Pilot : " What did you do to the Little Princess, and what's all this about the canyon and its flowers?" The Pilot said, looking wistfully into The Duke's eyes : *' ' The fruits of the Spirit are love, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, self-control, and some of these are found only in the canyon,' " and The Duke, standing up straight, handsome, and strong, looked back at The Pilot and said, putting out his hand: " Do you know, I believe you're right." " Yes, I'm quite sure," answered The Pilot simply. Then, holding The Duke's hand as 94 GIVEN I ' i t long as one man dare hold another's, he added: " When you come to your canyon, re- member." " When I come! " said The Duke, and a quick spasm of pain passed over his hand- some face — " God help me, it's not too far away now." Then he smiled again his old, sweet smile, and said : " Yes, you are right, for, of all/^owers I have seen, none are fairer or sW|}^|j^v|Jian je that are waving in'^vto*ifv\^s \ le e- a d- ir 1, •s n RALPH CONNOR'S CRISP WESTERN TALES A Tale of I1.50. looth 1,000 Glengarry School Days. A Tale of Early Days in Glengarry. Illustrated, i2mo. Cloth, $1.25. "Wonderfully vivid and realistic— Indeed it is a fair ques- tion whether the author has not given us in this boolt some bits not equalled elsewhere." — Brooklyn Eagle. i6oth 1,000 The Man from Glengarry. the Ottawa. 1 2mo, Cloth, "Bears the unmistakable mark of power." — Chicago Inter' Ocean. "There is pathos, subtle wit, humor, quaint character draw- ing. . . . Life, warmth, color are all here." — Brooklyn Eagle, 200th 1,000 The Sky Pilot. A Tale of the Foothills. i2mo. Cloth, {([1.25. "Ralph Connor's 'Black Rock' was good, but 'The Sky Pilot' is better. His style, fresh, crisp and terse, accords with the Western life, which he well understands. "—TAe Outlook. 400th 1,000 Black Rock. A Tale of the Selkirks. i2mo. Cloth, ^1.25. Popular Edition $0 cents, Special Edition 75 cents. "With perfect wholesomeness, with entire fidelity, with truest pathos, with freshest humor, he has delineated character, has analyzed motives and emotions, and has portrayed lire." — St. Louis Globe Democrat. FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY NEW YORK CHICAGO TORONTO LONDON EDINBURGH :