The girl’s chin quivered, and it was with no small difficulty that she kept back her tears. Finally, as the sun dropped behind the western ranges, the horses seemed to give out entirely, refusing to proceed farther.
“No use, Abe!” murmured Felicia. “We may as well give up and stop right here to-night.”
“I am just awful sorry,” murmured the boy; “but don’t you be afraid. I will guard you. I will watch you all night long. There shan’t anything touch you, I tell you that.”
They were in a long, shallow valley where there was some scanty herbage, and the horses were permitted to find such grazing as they could. The western sky glowed with glorious colors, which gradually faded and passed away, after the bright, silvery stars gleamed forth, and the heat of the day passed before the night was fairly on them.
Felicia lay down in the silence, gazing up at the millions of stars above them. Abe sat near, wondering what he could do to reassure her. At length he thought of his fiddle and pulled it round from his back, where it hung. Lifting the loop of the cord over his head, he held the fiddle to his bosom, softly patting and caressing it. After a time, he found his rosin and applied it to the bow. Then he put the instrument in tune and began to play.
The music was soft, and sweet, and soothing, like the lullaby of a mother over a sleeping child. With this sound throbbing in her ears, Felicia finally slept. When he knew she was fast asleep, the boy slipped off his coat and spread it over her shoulders.
The silence of the night was awesome, and he felt keenly the lonely desolation of their situation. So again he lifted the fiddle to his chin, and again it throbbed with such a soft, sweet melody that even the twinkling stars seemed bending to listen.
CHAPTER XX—THE FINDING OF THE BABES.
CHAPTER XX.