The Utes procured their own food—mainly consisting of fish from the little creek and deer and mountain birds that could be brought down at almost any hour from the neighboring crags—and slept in the open air. Redburn had McKenzie a comfortable bed made in the crusher-house, and sent him out a meal fit for a prince.
As yet, Anita knew nothing of the scarlet youth's identity;—scarcely knew, in fact, that he was in the valley.
At the cabin, the evening meal was dispatched with a general expression of cheerfulness about the board. Anita seemed less downcast than usual, and the vivacious Alice made life and merriment for all. She was witty where wit was proper, and sensible in an unusual degree.
Redburn was infatuated with her. He watched her with an expression of fondness in his eyes; he admired her every gesture and action; he saw something new to admire in her, each moment he was in her society.
When the evening meal was cleared away, he took down the guitar, and sung several ballads, the old "General" accompanying him with his rich deep bass, and Alice with her clear birdlike alto; and the sweet melody of the trio's voices called forth round after round of rapturous applause from the road-agents camped upon the slope, and from the Utes who were lounging here and there among the flower-beds of the valley. But of the lot, Deadwood Dick was the only one bold enough to approach the cabin, he came sauntering along and halted on the threshold, nodding to the occupants of the little apartment with a nonchalance which was not assumed.
"Good-evening!" he said, tipping his sombrero, but taking care not to let the mask slip from his face. "I hope mine is not an intrusion. Hearing music, I was loth to stay away, for I am a great lover of music;—it is the one passion that appeals to my better nature."
He seated himself on the little stone step, and motioned for Redburn to proceed.
One of those inside the cabin had been strangely affected at the sight of Dick, and that person was Anita. She turned deathly pale, her eyes assumed an expression of affright, and she trembled violently, as she first saw him. The Prince of the Road, however, if he saw her, noticed not her agitation; in fact, he took not the second glance at her while he remained at the cabin. His eyes were almost constantly fastening upon the lovely face and form of Alice.
Thinking it best to humor one who might become either a powerful enemy or an influential friend, Redburn accordingly struck up a lively air, a la banjo, and in exact imitation of a minstrel, rendered "Gwine to Get a Home, Bymeby." And the thunders of encore that came from the outside listeners, showed how surely he had touched upon a pleasant chord. He followed that with several modern serio-comic songs, all of which were received well and heartily applauded.
"That recalls memories of good old times," said the road-agent, as he leaned back against the door-sill, and gazed at the mountains, grand, majestic, stupendous, and the starlit sky, azure, calm and serene. "Recalls the days of early boyhood, that were gay, pure, and happy. Ah! ho!"