Part 13

"Yes, yes," panted Juanita; "oh, let us hasten."

"My poor darling, you are already almost spent," Rupert said tenderly. "Lean on me. If I were but free of the gun and bag of meat, I would take you in my arms."

"No, no," she returned, with a little pleased laugh. "I should not allow it. I am but a trifle out of breath; that is all, my best of husbands."

"I am happy to hear it," he said, "for I fear your strength will be sorely tried before we can reach a place of safety. Draw your blanket more closely about you, for the night wind has full sweep across this open plain, and its cold is piercing."

They had both been forced to adopt the Indian style of dress; Juanita had neither cloak nor shawl, but wore a blanket wrapped about her shoulders, after the manner of the squaws.

She drew it closer, took Rupert's arm, and they sped swiftly over the plain, the sense of impending danger lending them unnatural strength and speed.

They reached the stream, and followed its course for some miles, keeping just within the water's edge, then left it for a more direct route, which brought them, about daylight, to a dense forest.

Being now utterly spent with fatigue, they were obliged to stop and take some rest. Rupert spread his blanket at the foot of a tree, made Juanita lie down upon it, and carefully covered her with his own. "My poor child, how very weary you are!" he sighed in tender accents.

"Ah, if I could but provide a cup of hot coffee and a good warm breakfast for your refreshment! But I have nothing to offer you but this dried venison, and dare not even kindle a fire to dry your wet feet, lest the smoke should attract the attention of our savage foes."

"Ah," she said, with a determined effort to be cheerful, and giving him a sweet, bright smile, "we will not mind such trifles, if only we may escape being recaptured. Give me a bit of the venison; I can eat it with appetite."

They rested and slept where they were for some hours; then, late in the afternoon, started on again through the forest, trying to keep a south-easterly direction, and guided by the sun, of which they caught occasional glimpses between the tall tree-tops.

About the time of his setting they came out upon a little opening in the forest; and here they halted, made another meal upon the dried meat, then lay down and slept until the moon rose, when they pressed on again, guided by her light.

So for many weeks they journeyed on, the sun guiding them by day, the moon and stars at night, sometimes, when clouds covered these from view, obliged to lie by for hours or days; often compelled to do so from utter weakness and weariness, drinking water from the streams, and satisfying their hunger upon fish caught in them, or such game as Rupert was able to bring down with his gun or catch in snares laid for them when he and Juanita stopped for a night's rest.

He kept an account of the days of the week, and was careful to observe the rest of the Sabbath. He had brought his Bible with him, and the greater part of the day would be passed in the study of its pages and prayer to that God who is everywhere present and able to deliver from all dangers and fears. Rupert and Juanita were in a situation to feel very sensibly the need of His protecting care; for danger from wild beasts and roving bands of Indians threatened them on every side; venomous reptiles, too, often lay in their path, and they were not seldom assailed by both hunger and thirst, sometimes travelling many, many miles without finding either food or water.

Chapter Seventeenth.

"Sir, you are very welcome to our house: It must appear in other ways than words, Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy." SHAKESPEARE.

It was late in the afternoon of a sultry August day that our poor travellers, footsore and weary, reached a great cattle ranch in Texas, owned and occupied by a family of the name of Baird, who had emigrated from Ohio years before.

Their large, comfortable house, separated from the road by a wide, grassy yard and flower-garden, was the first civilized dwelling Rupert and Juanita had seen since their capture by the Indians, and their pulses quickened with joy at the sight.

Mrs. Baird was getting supper for her husband and sons, all of whom were in the field with the cattle. Turning from the fire where she was broiling chickens, baking biscuit, and frying potatoes, she caught sight of two forlorn figures coming up the garden path.

"Injuns!" she cried aloud, as, pale and breathless with fright, she looked this way and that for some weapon of defence, "and me here alone!"

But a second glance reassured her. They were nearing the open door, and she could see not only that they were whites, but that there was nothing sinister or fierce in the expression of the man's face, while that of the young girl, though pale and travel-stained, was winsome and even beautiful.

She stepped forward with a cordial "How d'ye do? Walk in, and sit down, and rest, for you are dreadfully tired, I know," setting out some chairs as she spoke.

"Thank you, madam; indeed we are," Rupert replied, lifting his hat with a courtly bow.

But as they crossed the threshold Juanita staggered, and would have fallen had not he caught her in his arms.

"Oh, my darling, my darling!" he cried in tones of acute distress, "have food and rest come too late for you?"

"Food and rest?" repeated Mrs. Baird, greatly shocked, "is she starved? Here, lay her down quick on the lounge in the sitting-room, and I'll bring her a glass of milk at once; 'twont take me a minute to get it."

With a word of thanks Rupert followed the good woman's directions, and had scarcely done so ere she was at his side with the milk.

He raised Juanita's head. Mrs. Baird held the glass to her lips, and noted, with tears of mingled joy and compassion, the eagerness with which it was swallowed.

Then a sudden thought sent her flying from the room to return immediately with a pitcher, from which she filled the glasses again and again, first for Juanita, then for Rupert.

"Now," she said, when her pitcher was empty, "you shall both have a good hearty supper in about ten minutes. If you'd like to wash off the dust first, you'll find soap, water, and towels handy out there on the porch. Now I must leave you, or my supper will be all spoiled."

"O Rupert, how good and kind she is!" whispered Juanita, with tears in her eyes, as their hostess left them alone together, "and she could never suppose from our appearance that we have anything to pay with."

"No; she must be a truly benevolent woman, and a Christian one also, I think; and truly we have great reason to thank our heavenly Father for bringing us to such an one in our sore need," said Rupert, adding, as Juanita made a movement as if to rise, "Lie still, love; I will bring a basin of water to you."

"Please do," she answered, lying down again; "a wash will be very refreshing. Ah, if one only had some clean clothes to put on!"

"That desire also shall be granted before long, my darling," Rupert answered between a tear and a smile, glancing down rather ruefully at the worn and soiled garments of his pretty young wife.

He had shielded her as far as possible from the hardnesses of their terrible journey, yet he knew that her sufferings had been great--so great that his kind, loving heart bled at the very thought of them.

She had beautiful hair, very fine, soft, glossy and black as the raven's wing; very long and luxuriant too; when unconfined falling in a great mass of ringlets below her waist.

Rupert was very proud of it, as well as of her regular and delicate features, her starry eyes, sylphlike form, and graceful movements.

At present she wore her hair in a great coil at the back of her shapely head, held in place by a wooden pin that he had made for her.

"May I take this down and comb it out for you?" he asked, laying his hand caressingly upon it. "But perhaps it would tire you too much."

"Oh no, it would rather be a refreshment," she answered, smiling up at him, "and I shall be much obliged."

So he did, then brought her the water to lave her hands and face.

Meanwhile Mrs. Baird, busy with her preparations for the evening meal, was full of curiosity in regard to her unexpected guests. "Who can they be?" she questioned with herself, "and where in the world did they come from? It's as plain as day that he's a gentleman and she a lady; they look it in spite of their odd, shabby dress; and they speak good, pure English in refined tones, though she has a little foreign accent. She looks Spanish, but he's an American; I'm sure of that. Shouldn't wonder if he's from my own State--from that section anyway, for he's neither a New Englander nor a Southerner. But their dress--why, it's nearer Injun than anything else; well, now I wonder--" and hurrying to the sitting-room door she addressed Rupert:

"If you please, sir, I'd like to ask a question. Have you been among the Injuns?"

"Yes," he said; "we escaped about three months ago from an Apache village, where we had been prisoners for three years."

"Dear me! how dreadful! And that must have been a long way off; how did you ever get here?"

"Yes, it must be hundreds of miles, and we have walked all the way."

"Oh you poor things!" she cried, the tears coursing down her cheeks; "no wonder you're completely worn out. Your sufferings must have been dreadful."

"They have not been small," Rupert said, with emotion, his glance resting pityingly for an instant upon Juanita's wan features; "but as our days, our strength has been, for God is faithful to His promises. And now," he added, with a brightening countenance, "the worst is all over, I trust."

"Yes, indeed; you must stay here till you're quite rested," she said, with cordial hospitality. "And as soon as there's a good chance I'd like to hear your whole story. It can't fail to be interesting."

Turning hastily away with the last word, she seized a tin horn, and going to the back door blew a vigorous blast.

Her husband, three stalwart sons grown to man's estate, and a slender lad of twelve, the youngest and therefore the family pet, came hurrying from the field in answer to the summons.

The wife and mother met them at the threshold, her still fresh and comely face full of excitement. "We have guests," she said.

"Who on earth, mother?" ejaculated Joe, the eldest son, while his father remarked, "They're welcome, whoever they are, if they're honest, decent folks."

"That I'll engage they are!" she answered, "though their clothes are shabby enough; but they're escaped captives from the Apaches; have been travelling through the wilderness for months on foot, and of course are in a very bad plight."

Her announcement was met by various exclamations of surprise and commiseration, according to the characters and dispositions of the speakers.

"Yes," she said, "and of course, father, we'll keep them here till they're rested, poor things, and then help them on their way to their friends, if they have any."

"Of course, of course, wife," answered the man of the house, cheerily. "But where are they?"

"In the sitting-room. Go in and speak to them, won't you? and ask them out to supper; it's just ready."

"I'll do that!" he said, hanging up the towel he had been using.

In another minute he was shaking hands cordially with Rupert, while congratulating him on his escape from the Indians, and assuring him and Juanita of their welcome to the hospitalities of the ranch as long as they might be pleased to accept them. "No obligations, young man," he said, interrupting Rupert's expression of thanks; "you'd do the same for me if our situations were reversed; and besides, any decent stranger is a godsend in these lonely parts; and the cost of entertaining, where you have everything on your place and no market for it, is just about nothing. Come, walk out to supper," he added; "it's on the table, and best while it's hot."

He led the way, and they followed right willingly, for the smell of the viands was extremely appetizing, and the milk had by no means appeased their hunger.

Mrs. Baird greeted them with a smile, pointed out their seats, and with an inclination of the head toward the younger members of the family, said, "My sons, Mr----"

"Keith," supplied Rupert, as she paused with an inquiring look at him; "Rupert Keith is my name, and this young lady," glancing at Juanita, "is--"

There was an instant's hesitation, then he added, "my wife," coloring slightly as he spoke.

He was conscious of a furtive exchange of wondering, inquiring glances among his entertainers, but no remark was made.

They all sat down to the table, the father asked a blessing upon the food, and the meal began.

Presently Rupert said, with a frank look into the face of his host, "I must ask to be permitted to explain my hesitation of a moment ago.

"Juanita and I have been fellow-captives among the Apaches. They carried her off in a raid into Mexico--her native land. Me they captured on my way from Indiana to California, and we made our acquaintance in the Indian village.

"It was not long before we became lovers, but there was no one there to unite us in marriage. Just previous to making our escape we married ourselves by Friends' ceremony, as the best we could do; but having had no witnesses, we do not feel quite satisfied that the knot has been tied as tightly as it ought to be (the reason of my hesitation to claim her as fully mine)," he put in parenthetically and with a look and smile of ardent affection directed to his bride, "and as soon as we can come across a minister we will get him to tighten it," he concluded, with a half-sportive look and tone. Then, more gravely, "Is there one in this neighborhood?" he inquired.

All present had listened with evident interest to his explanation; the father of the family now answered, "None very near, but there's a Methodist minister of the name of Clark, who passes here every other Sunday on his way to a school-house six miles beyond, where he preaches. He generally takes his dinner here, and that will be a good chance for you, if you can wait for it."

"'Twon't be so long, father," remarked his wife, cheerily; "this is Friday, and next Sunday is Mr. Clark's day."

"Why, to be sure, so it is!" ejaculated her spouse, turning a beaming face upon Rupert and Juanita.

"We can wait," Juanita said in her liquid tones, speaking for the first time since she had sat down to the table. "I am but poorly prepared so far as regards my dress," she added, with blushing cheek and a shy, downward glance at her forlorn attire.

Rupert gave her a tenderly sympathizing look, then turning to their host asked, "Is there any place within reach where clothing may be procured? I have means to pay for it, and we are both, as you see, sorely in need of it."

"The nearest place is twenty miles away, and it's none of the best," was the discouraging reply. "However, we'll see what can be done; Joe can drive you over to-morrow, if you feel like taking the trip; but I should think you'd better rest a few days first."

"Yes, indeed, I should think so," chimed in Mrs. Baird; "and Joe can lend him a suit to be married in (they look to be pretty near of a size), and I'll find something for the young lady."

"Certainly, certainly!" assented Joe with ready cordiality and a kindly look at Rupert, who was beaming with joy and gratitude.

"You are all exceedingly kind," he said with emotion.

And truly he and Juanita looked in need of such kindly offices. They were dressed almost exactly alike--in full suits of deerskin, moccasins, leggings, and a long loose shirt belted in at the waist; all much worn and soiled with months of constant wear and the dust of travel. On their arrival each had worn a broad-brimmed hat woven by Juanita's deft fingers.

Their entertainers, though eager to hear the story of their captivity and subsequent wanderings, kindly refrained from questioning them till their appetites had been fully satisfied.

At the conclusion of the meal Juanita was made to lie down again, Mrs. Baird insisting that she must be altogether too tired to sit up; Rupert was given an arm-chair, and all the family gathered round him to listen to a lengthened narrative of his experiences from the time of his capture to the present.

Some passages were so moving that there was not a dry eye in the room, and tender-hearted Mrs. Baird sobbed aloud.

When the story seemed to have come to an end she started up, saying, "Dear me! I've left my dishes standing all this while!" and hastily left the room.

Her husband and sons remained, and plied Rupert with questions.

"What have you done with your gun?" asked Ralph, the youngest. "You said you had one that you stole back from that old Wildcat, but I haven't noticed it anywhere round."

"No," Rupert said; "when we came in sight of this house I felt safe in getting rid of the burden of carrying it for a while. Our blankets too; we were so tired and the sun so hot, that they seemed an almost intolerable load, so I hid them in a clump of bushes a little off the roadside, where I knew I could easily find them again."

"That was wise," remarked his host; "we will go for them in the morning."

"Did that old Wildcat and the rest chase after you?" queried Ralph.

"Indeed, my little man, I do not know," replied Rupert. "If so, it was when it was too late for them to overtake us."

"I think you managed splendidly," remarked Tom, the second son.

"I think God helped and took care of us," Rupert said, with reverent gratitude.

"And there you are right," said his host. "'Except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it: except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain.'"

"Words of inspiration," Rupert said, recognizing them with a smile of glad content. "I perceive that we are fellow-servants of the same divine Master, and much I thank Him for bringing me to the house of one of His followers for a short season of rest."

"And most welcome you are, sir, especially as belonging to Him," returned Mr. Baird, heartily; "'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.' Those words of His make it a double delight to do any kindness to one of His disciples."

All this time Juanita had been soundly sleeping; her head had scarcely touched the pillow ere she was lost to all that was going on about her.

Mrs. Baird, coming in again, noticed that Rupert seemed very weary.

"You are making Mr. Keith talk too much," she said to the others. "He's fairly tired out, and ought to be sleeping this minute. I'll make up a bed directly for you, and one for her," she added, addressing Rupert, and glancing toward Juanita with the last words.

"Oh no, do not give yourself the trouble," he hastened to say; "I doubt if either of us could sleep in a bed after being so long used to nothing softer than a bear or buffalo skin spread upon the ground."

Mrs. Baird gave him a puzzled look. "What can I do for you then?" she asked.

"Give me an old quilt or something of the kind, if you have one conveniently at hand, and I will lie on the floor here."

"Yes; I'll get you a quilt and a couple of buffalo robes," she said, "though I'd rather give you a good bed. I may make up one for her, mayn't I?"

Rupert smiled, and with a loving glance at Juanita said, "I really think she would prefer to stay where she is till to-morrow morning. She will probably sleep on till then without moving or so much as opening an eye, she is so very weary, poor thing!"

"And," with a little doubtful hesitation, "you wouldn't rather have separate rooms? I have plenty of them."

"No; she is my wife, and we have been together night and day ever since our escape from captivity; and she has slept close at my side or in my arms. How could I have it otherwise, with the growl of the bear, the savage howl of the wolf, or the scream of the wildcat in our ears, to say nothing of constant danger from roving bands of Indians?"

"Sure enough, sir; and she is your wife! Well, it shall be just as you wish, though it does seem like treating you both very inhospitably."

"Not at all, my dear madam. In fact, neither of us would be willing to get into one of your nice clean beds without a bath and change of raiment, which we cannot have at present."

"Why, yes you can, of course," put in Joe; "we have a bath-room, and I'll supply you with a change of clothes, without waiting for the Rev. Mr. Clark's coming," he added, with a good-humored laugh.

"And I'll do the same by your wife to-morrow morning," said the mother, as she hurried away in search of the quilt.

She kept her word, and Juanita appeared at the breakfast-table very agreeably metamorphosed by civilized garments, though the calico dress was a little faded, and had to be belted in about the waist because it was several sizes too large.

But no attire, however uncouth, could hide the gracefulness of her form and movements, or mar the beauty of her face.

"They won't come anywhere near fitting, you are so much more slender than I am," Mrs. Baird had remarked when offering them, "but at least they are sweet and clean as soap and water can make them."

"The best possible recommendation, dear lady," Juanita answered, with a joyous smile. "Oh, you do not know how glad I shall be to be clean once more! You could only learn by living in a wigwam for three years and then travelling through the woods and over the mountains and prairies in the one suit, wearing it day and night."

"A great deal more than I should be willing to pay for the knowledge," returned her hostess between a smile and a tear. "You poor young thing! What a fearful time you must have had!"

Rupert's appearance had undergone quite as great an improvement as Juanita's, and they exchanged many admiring glances during the meal.

Afterward, when they found themselves alone together for a moment, "How lovely you are this morning, my darling!" exclaimed Rupert, catching Juanita in his arms and giving her a rapturous embrace.

"You too," she said, laying one small hand on each of his broad shoulders and gazing fondly up into his face.

"It's the clothes--altogether the clothes in my case, I fear," he returned, half laughingly; "savage attire is none too becoming to me."

"Nor to me," she responded; "it's the change of dress with me as well as with you. But oh, my Rupert, I have always thought you the handsomest of men, even in savage attire!"

"Little flatterer!" he said, laughing and pinching her cheek, yet evidently not ill pleased with the compliment. "That dress is extremely becoming; really you are positively bewitching in it."

"Ah, who is the flatterer now?" she cried, clapping her hands and laughing gleefully.

Ralph looked in at the door. "Mr. Keith, father says would you like to come and look at some of our fine cattle, if you are not too tired?"

"Yes, indeed I should, thank you," Rupert answered, letting go of Juanita to follow the boy, but turning back again to kiss her good-by and bid her take all the rest she could.

"Thanks, señor," she returned gayly, "but I feel quite fresh this morning, and I must see if I cannot give a little help to our kind hostess. She seems to have no servant, and our presence here must add to her labors."

"Quite right," he said, with an approving smile, "but do not overtax your strength."

Mrs. Baird was not in the kitchen, where Juanita expected to find her, but hearing the light step of the latter, called to her from an inner room.

"Come here, my dear," she said, "and tell me what you think of this."

It was a white dress of fine cambric muslin, its skirt, waist, and sleeves elaborately trimmed with tiny tucks, embroidery, and lace. Mrs. Baird held it up to view, repeating her query, "What do you think of this?"

"That it is very pretty," Juanita answered, examining it closely. "What beautifully fine needlework."