“I surely will. So long Dan.”
“So long.”
Dan watched the white-haired figure till it was swallowed up by the forest. Then he turned again to his hopeless task of guiding, instructing, and blaspheming his dark-skinned relatives.
CHAPTER XIII
Silver-Thatch
MOLLY MARTON sat leaning over the horn of her saddle. One elbow was propped upon it, while her brown hand supported her chin. The other hand was reaching down holding her mare’s reins, while the thirsty creature buried its muzzle in the speeding waters of the creek.
The afternoon was well advanced, and the sun was already approaching the crystal peaks of the more distant hills. Molly calculated there was a good three hours to complete darkness yet, and she could reasonably expect to reach home in less time than that. So far her search had been fruitless. She had discovered no sign of her missing cows. But she was quite undisturbed, and not a whit nearer agreement with Lightning as to the meaning of her loss.
The excuse of her search, however, had served Molly well enough. Ranging these hills, with Nature bursting into renewed life, was a joy that never failed in its appeal. Molly loved it all with a youthful passion. She loved the radiant sunlight—the immensity, the complete solitude, of this world of forest, and hill, and sheltered valley.
The scented spruce came right down to the grass-grown banks of the creek. Where she had entered the water was a boulder-strewn gap. It was clearly the bed of one of those swiftly passing spring torrents. Now it was almost dry, and had served as her approach to the shallow ford.
The happy waters surged about Rachel’s sturdy legs. Beyond, across the creek, the hills rose sharply, clad with a woven pattern in every shade of green. Molly had no intention of crossing the creek. Her homeward way lay back over her tracks, and down through the endless woods which lined almost the entire course of the creek.
But the girl had no thought just now for the beauty of her surroundings, or the business of returning home, or even the object of her search. She was all unconcerned that she had some fifteen miles to cover before she again saw her snug homestead. She was thinking of the dark, good-looking face of the man who had offered himself as her escort to a real dance.