It was golden indeed, for the sun had just dipped beyond the purple mountains and the scene was flooded with golden light. Away, away to the North and East and West stretched the vast rolling valley of the Indian Reservation, the Little Bitter Root mountains guarding it on the left and the Mission Range rising modestly on the East. She could see but the faint purple outline of the low hills to the northward. Dotted here and there were soft greens, of irrigated reaches, and trees, showing where the waters flowed and at which the grazing herds quenched their thirst. Bess was filled with awe at the magnificent scene, and reverently clasped her hands and lifted her eyes as she realized the immensity of it. When the Lord of Hosts should upon the last day assemble all the people of the earth together in judgment, what more fitting place could he choose! There he might sit on the crest of yonder mountain, with his host of angels about him, and below in the expanse of sweeping prairie, unmarred by the hand of man, adorned only by the divine touch of bountiful Providence, might convene all,—the good might here find a foretaste of heaven, and the less fortunate could hope for mercy of which they had not dreamed nor even dared to hope. Surely the Creator of all this beauty would condone the faults of poor, frail humanity who had fallen from grace in the hard and bitter struggle of life.
So she stood, entranced, in the fading light of day, unheeding the last thrilling notes of meadow lark, or the balsam-laden air wafted to her from the evergreen slopes of the mountains. Closing her eyes in a softly murmured prayer, she stood silent and motionless, and when she again looked upon the scene the grayness of early night had settled over all, softening every outline with indistinctness.
Abruptly she turned to hurry back to the hotel, when, in the distance, she heard the clatter of approaching hoofs. A little alarm of fear and loneliness stirred in her breast and she hurried down the road. All the bravado with which she had left her brother had suddenly deserted her, and she could feel the heart-throbs in her throat nearly choking her. She did not even glance up the road, although she heard the hoof-beats ever coming nearer. “What if it should be Indians!” The thought filled her with ever-increasing alarm. On she sped, as rapidly as the gradual descent permitted, then she struck a rock, and ere she could regain her footing she fell on her knees. Scarcely had the damp earth left an imprint on her skirt when she regained her feet, and now glanced behind her.
Silhouetted against the evening sky, on the very crest of the hill, she saw, in her momentary glance, a lone horseman leading a second horse. The next instant they had begun slowly to descend the hill.
Bess, seeing a huge, flat boulder to the right of the road, stepped out upon it so that she could be distinctly seen, even tho it was now rapidly growing dark. She looked up the road at the approaching trio, her face raised fearlessly and confidently, although her knees were still trembling.
As the man passed he courteously lifted his broad sombrero, speaking at the same time in a low, commanding voice to the horse he was leading. “Mauchacho, I am ashamed of you! Did you never see a lady before? You certainly—”
But his voice grew indistinct in the distance and Bess did not hear the end of the chiding the dainty animal had received for pricking up his ears and pulling back on the hackamore.
“Thank goodness, it was not an Indian after all,” she said aloud, as she hurried down to the hotel.
The lone rider had already reached the steps, and she saw James heartily shaking both his hands. She stopped a moment watching the pair standing in the flood of light which poured out of the open doorway. The stranger was tall and straight as an arrow, even though his shoulders had a tired droop. Heavily fringed leather “chapps” covered his trousers, a mackinaw coat, carelessly fastened and a white silk handkerchief knotted loosely about his throat completed his unpretentious costume. She could see that his face looked dark and swarthy, but it was lighted by a smile of greeting, displaying a row of firm, even teeth.
“Well, old boy, it seems mighty good to see you once more, and to breathe this air again. I had just started to find my sister, who has strayed off somewhere, when I heard you coming,” Bess heard her brother saying, “and I hope I may find her before someone lariats her for a maverick and sticks his brand on her.”