“In verity she will do that. She will do a miracle. Thou shalt see.”
“Is it possible that you are not afraid? I thought you called her your ‘heart’s dearest’!”
“En verdad. She is the whole world to Sutro Vives. But I am not afraid, I. She is all love, all innocence, all fearlessness. She would win over the Evil One himself, I believe, if she could meet him!”
“She certainly has a chance now to try!” groaned Diablo’s owner, too anxious to be greatly amused by Sutro’s extravagance of language, and holding himself ready to rush forward to the child’s aid at the first ugly movement on the animal’s part.
Timid Beatrice stood upon the lower round of the fence, scarcely breathing in the fascination of her fear; yet it was her eyes which interpreted the first overture between those two out there in the paddock. “See! She’s laid her head down on the branch an’ pertends she’s going to sleep; and I can hear her—I surely can—singing soft, soft, kind of loving-y like. And now—he’s moving—but slow—as anything.”
“Yes. I am watching.” Neither voice raised above a whisper.
“But—look now! He’s a walking up to her; curious like, isn’t he? He’s—see him!”
Intently they gazed upon the pantomime. Steenie lay on her leafy perch, one little foot dangling and swinging lazily back and forth, her blue eyes turned caressingly, almost imploringly, upon Diablo, as if beseeching him to come to her.
Her own description, afterward, was: “I just thought at him as hard as ever I could. I wouldn’t think of anything else, only that I did love him, and was sorry he didn’t make friends with his wanted-to-be friends, and I wanted he should know ’bout it. And by-and-by, I s’pose my thought hit his somewhere,—as Bob believes,—and then—it was done. He just came closer an’ closer; an’ by-an’-by he stretched out his pretty nose and smelled of my foot. Then he waited a minute, an’ I didn’t even wink, but just kept on saying, inside of me: ‘Don’t you see I love you? Don’t you know I love you?’”
“Pretty soon he sniffed at my hand in my lap; and then he ate the clover blossoms; an’ then he let me move one finger a little bit—though he jumped at that. Afterwards, I could move my whole hand, and smooth his face, that was soft as satin. When I could coax his head down to mine, so I could talk into his ears, I had no more to do. I remembered everything Bob taught me; and when I knew he was all right, and wasn’t afraid any more, I let him smell of the lariat, and fuss with it ’s long as he liked. Then I made a slip-halter,—Bob’s way,—an’ that’s all.”