Part 3

At any rate, no mother ever appeared to claim the baby, so she was adopted and given the name of Thursday, that being the day of her advent. She was so wee that until she was able to help herself to a grown-up cat's food, she was always fed from a spoon, and soon grew to look upon this useful article as the source of all motherly comfort, and to take milk from it as the chief object in living. In all her after life, the sight of a spoon seemed to give her a thrill and it was always very funny to watch her keenness in discovering anyone at the table using this, her foster-mother, which she, very naturally, regarded as her own special property. This ridiculously small defender of her propriety rights would make her resentment of this trespass on her claim manifest in various cunning ways. Often she would watch with impatient, glaring eyes, from her vantage ground, the floor, each and every spoonful, as it passed from plate to mouth, hoping in time to stare this particular offender out of countenance. But if her jealous, concentrated round eyes failed to attract the desired attention, when longer forbearance became impossible, she would jump to the lap of the transgressor, thrusting her little pink nose into the hand that had so basely ignored her indignation, and intercept the spoon with a dainty paw and a comical air of haughty rebuke, as if saying: "Little Thursday's! Have you forgotten?"

This impertinence, which the affront had been designedly coaxing forth, never failed to bring her a very substantial reward, and certainly no reproof. And so the baby was spoiled and encouraged in her wilful little ways which were considered the "cutest ever." There was never a time in all her life when she would not willingly leave affairs ordinarily attractive to cats, to come and sit serenely on some lap, with a bib about her neck, a sweet smile of peace on her face, to be fed with a spoon. She never reached the full stature of an ordinary cat, but grew into a wondrously beautiful little beastie and developed the most independent, self-contained, evasive personality imaginable, for a cat. Looking no more than half-grown she was the very perfection of dainty symmetry, her coat a solid glossy black, almost blue in its depths. She was remarkably quick in her graceful motions, even for a cat, and had the dearest little round blue eyes, just scintillating with mischief and flaming with an inordinate love of fun which radiated to the tip of her inquisitive little nose and from there to the quivering end of her wicked, ecstatic tail. She also possessed such queer twists in a highly strung and very nervous temperament, that her erratic moods were variable and often startling surprises. But she was always singularly human and steadfast in one feminine quality and that was in liking to do just as she pleased. One of her "queer twists" was, at various intervals, to have sudden spasms of hilarious gaiety and to give vent to these frantic spells in play that were the times of her life. She never had any company in these grand romps, but was strangely independent and wildly happy, the imp of play which had possession, seeming to have endless sources of its own in the way of society and amusement. She would race "sideways" through the house, her "baby blue eyes" black as coal, turn double "upside downs," and play a kind of hide-and-seek all by herself, plainly just play for play's sake until her frolic, which sometimes rose to a frenzy, had exhausted her crazy mood.

Among our precious lares and penates, was a magnificent Irish setter, a handsome fellow with a coat of wavy golden red hair and eyes of such beseeching softness that he won all mankind. Until the advent of Thursday he had been sole proprietor and sovereign owner of the sunny back porch and playground, not to mention the hearts he ruled. But with the coming of the little black lady all his previous rights were changed, she, with nonchalant impudence, taking cool and unchallenged possession of all, including the king himself, who seemed one of her most willing subjects. She quickly learned and presumed on her power over him but with heroic patience this handsome fellow yielded glad obedience and was ever ready to bend before her small feminine coquetry, his gallantry seeming boundless. Like a knight of old, he was always rushing to her rescue and ever espousing her cause, using his strength generously at all times in her behalf. If she happened to cry within her privileged precincts of the house, screened from his entrance, if he was anywhere on the grounds within sound of her call, he would instantly come to her succor, peering through the screen with such an anxious, troubled expression in his dear goldy-brown eyes, his head turned first on one side and then on the other, a way setters have when trying to fathom mysteries. Having satisfied himself that she was in no serious trouble or in need of his gallant protectorship, he would lift his appealing brown eyes to us with an air of unutterable reproach for his unnecessary disturbance, and drop to the floor with a huge sigh, perhaps to try again for a few quiet winks. Life with him was no longer dull or lacking in color after Thursday became a member of our household, but was full of rich and varied interests for every waking hour, which were many more than formerly, as it was only under the greatest difficulties that he could get even half of his accustomed hours of greedy sleep through the interrupted days. Of old, his choice of pleasant places of repose had been the shady back porch, where he would stretch himself at full length, his velvety ears lying broad and flat, and he still indulged himself in this chosen spot, although under difficulties. For Thursday had soon learned that to snuggle close to his curly coat meant warmth and comfort, but not for the dog, for it teased and worried his naps dreadfully to have her cuddle so close. However as he seemed loathe to surrender this adopted spot, his by "right of domain," he was most gentlemanly and patient, never even saying "bow." When sleepy time came the kitten would boldly hunt his resting place and nestle under the softness of his downy ear for her siesta. Feigning sleep, his nose between his paws and one eye half-open, the dog would bide the time when she was fast asleep and then, most cautiously and carefully, draw himself away in order to have his ear to himself. Little Lonesome, feeling the want of her comfortable covering, would sleepily creep under his ear again and the setter would again, with touching resignation, watch his chance and get away. This exchange of courtesies would go on until the dog evidently realized that he might as well give up and let the little wilful torment have her way. Or there might be times when he would get his lazy self up and off, but even this manoeuvre might be only temporary relief, if the kitten still longed for his companionship. Never once was the dog known to growl or fail in politeness, even when the kitten trespassed on his hospitality to the extent of selecting such dainty bits from his dinner plate as pleased her fancy. At such times he would stand by, big and stern, wistfully watching the choice pieces disappear, and patiently wait until she had finished her selection and was seated on her haunches near by, washing her little black face, before he would presume to take that which, in her gracious indulgence, she had left for him. In this elaborate ceremony of her toilet, she would sometimes pause, and with a kind of pensive wondering, gaze at her now greedy host. In this attitude, with one tiny paw raised meditatively, and her mouth half-open showing a bit of pink tongue between her gleaming teeth, she looked as if actually smiling in supreme affability on an attendant chamberlain. At all times, the attitude of affected condescension assumed by this mite of a kitten toward her big gentlemanly comrade, was so absurd as to be very funny.

And so the summer and fall months passed and the dog and kitten grew in friendship and intimacy and were an endless source of interest to the family. Unfortunately for these pets, the country home was soon to be broken up and closed for the winter. Thursday's devoted friend and protector, the setter, was sent to the hunting lodge, and a home was provided for the kitten with a friend who lived only a couple of miles away.

The girl cherished this little darling kitten which she had rescued, devotedly, and was very sad at the necessary parting, but never dreamed for a moment but that she would be the only one to experience any regret. She thought, of course, that the heart of her apparently frivolous little pet would readily accept the new conditions without a homesick thought, as it meant the same kindness, food and shelter to which she had been accustomed, and to leave her alone at the country house was out of the question, as it would be to risk letting her perish with cold and hunger. So the kitten was carried to the home of the friend and left, with a big heartache but, as the girl thought, only on her part.

The next day through the telephone came the report that Lady Thursday did not take at all kindly to her change of residence, but expressed a decided dissatisfaction with the new order of things, scorning all food with a painfully injured air, staring straight ahead in black misery, ignoring everybody and all overtures in the way of coaxing, petting and comforting. Every means possible was tried to make her feel settled and as happy as a kitten ought to be in such a good home, but all in vain. Late in the afternoon this bonnie wee bit of homesickness appeared at our door, looking so pathetically small and weary, but still determined, that it made the tears come just to look at her. She was as quiet and demure as an injured saint but there was an anxious wistfulness in her big pleading eyes that went straight to one's heart. She evidently realized that she had transgressed the law in eluding the vigilance of her keepers, and in running away, and her trembling little heart was thumping a wild tattoo. But her mental and physical rapture at being in her own home once more was glowing in triumphant satisfaction in every movement. And that she had been shrewd enough to find her way back all by herself in a road where there were no sign-posts a cat might read, but only scent for guide was also obviously a source of great self-congratulation to her. This demonstration of preference on the kitten's part for her home, and for her, was a surprise to the girl and touched her heart, for she had not thought her saucy, independent little favorite capable of such deep appreciation. It was so evident that this obstinate little pet objected to this change of abode that it was with the greatest reluctance that the girl felt forced to send her back again. There surely could be no mistaking the small queen's sentiments in the matter, for her manner was so haughty and reproachful. It might be a lovely joke her perfidious family were playing on her, but they had made a sad mistake, if they were serious, to think for one moment she would condone such treachery or that she would tolerate the other house as home, even for one day. She bestowed a royal "not-to-do-it-again" sort of threat on all, but in spite of her scathing remonstrance, she was told of the absolute need she had of another shelter, consoled and again carried to the distant home, rather than be allowed her stubborn way and left at the deserted country place to take her chances against starvation and neglect.

This time the little black visitor was shown special attention by the rather indignant friends of the girl, and more carefully guarded. If she showed a tendency to wander, she was made a prisoner in the hope that she would soon forget her former home and accept the inevitable, which from their point of view, was certainly very nice. Although the kitten was unnaturally patient and seemed to look upon their soothing efforts with a desire to be soothed, time showed that she remained, through all, unmoved in purpose, proving that in her apparently indifferent and trivial nature there were depths that had not been suspected.

The great master passion of home-love and, for a small cat, a tremendous wilfulness were developing in her sturdy little body. She would not be reconciled to this new home but was slyly on the alert, constantly devising all sorts of shrewd ways in which she might cheat her keepers and gain her end.

One day toward evening, their vigilance being somewhat relaxed, owing to her seeming submission, she managed to escape. She had been very crafty in her "seeming submission" as it had evidently been only a subterfuge, for she showed she had not been vanquished by any manner of means, or even discouraged by the delay. All the time she had seemed so sad and passive she must have been only biding her time and opportunity, scheming all the while desperately in feminine ingenuity to outwit her jailors. When finally she was rewarded, and the instant she was free, she went scampering down the path, through the timberland, taking by instinct the "short cut" which was the nearest and straightest way to the one place on earth to her, each bounding step keeping time to the homesick beat of her heart.

Oh, poor, plucky, obstinate morsel of a kitten! If there had only been some kindly hand to have turned you back; turned you back from that demon, hungry and savage, lying in wait for you in the narrow path through which you were sure to pass! Oh, that there had been some Spirit of Pity that cherishes the kittens, to have had a saving compassion on you!

But on sped the flying feet, with eyes blind to all but the one big home-impulse that was giving her the courage of ten. All grief, disappointment and heartaches forgotten as the old friendly place grew nearer and nearer. Down through the valley and up the fatal hill, racing as fast as she could go on the ragged path, clearing brambles and ditches and fallen tree-trunks with flying leaps, turning neither to the right nor the left, going straight for home. Panting and throbbing she finally reached a tiny roadway among the briars and undergrowth, a narrow trail seldom used except by small fur and those in a hurry, like Thursday. Faster and faster she went exultingly on through this shadowy thicket to the next descent, and deeper and deeper into the depth and mystery of the woods, where loomed a silent murderer, set in rabbit land for the unwary, which had marked this little pitiful victim to clutch in its fatal curve.

Have courage, little Thursday, and turn back. Oh, in mercy turn back and save yourself from the horrible fate of this half-concealed shadow so near to you now! Or, halt an instant and go round this deadly trap. Home is so near, only a little way now. Home! Home! almost in sight, in answer to the burning desire in your heart. A sudden stop! The twinkling of a black shape twirling in the air, and the path is empty!

The deadly grip of the cruel wire has borne Thursday home in a flash.

A MINE, A MINER, AND A CAT

The mining camps of California in the days of '49 are full of romance and history and any man who has once tasted their free independent adventure can never more escape the influence. The gambling chance which every miner took in those fascinating days, is continually tempting him again to the old life. This charm, which that most merciless Enchantress of the California Hills casts on all alike, is unfathomable, and grips the mighty as well as the weak. The quest of gold, which rewarded some and eluded others in those days, still has a grappling temptation to every man who has once been under its spell. To the pioneer Californian, it is a summons forever luring him to that old battle ground round the big shaft where the sky is big and it feels good just to be alive. You will find that the old-time miners forever chafe in the dullness and conventionalities of any humdrum existence along commercial lines, and for any slight excuse will exultantly take the wide tramp road that leads to what they call "God's own country." They are found ever eager to give body, and soul if necessary, joyously, in the intoxicating excitement this fickle sorceress holds out to them in the game of chance which they think _must_ win in the end.

One of these sturdy relics of the early days in the golden west, after years of struggle and vain trials to settle down into the drudgery of precarious success in trade, grew tired of waiting for the miracle of prosperity to even begin to happen, and was in despair. In his blue discouragement those dream ghosts of the happy mining days were ungovernable in their insistent presence and pulling at his heart strings with an almost visible and steady line.

Long ago when he first came to the west, in the mad rush after gold in '49 he had been one of the "pardners" to locate and work a certain claim. In the fever and scramble of making a fortune in a minute, and expecting to pick up handfuls of gold with little trouble, this company had become discouraged at the slow profits yielded by this claim, and had abandoned it upon the report of much richer discoveries farther on, he following with the others. During all these years that he had tried to settle down into steady, legitimate business a haunting certainty had grown in his mind that they had been too hasty in abandoning this mine. The remembrance of a promising lead, which had been discovered in one of those hustling days and which, in their breathless hurry for big lumps, had not been followed faithfully enough, and consequently had been overlooked and forgotten, obsessed his present gloomy outlook until it could no longer be ignored.

One especially desperate day, when affairs had been unusually irksome, he sat down in dejection and thought deep and hard on this inward and tantalizing urge to the old mountains. Immediately following this quiet hour with himself he gave up the effort of trying to succeed in his present uncongenial work, and throwing discretion to the winds, yielded in glorious abandon to the call in his blood, ringing too loud to longer oppose. Fortunately there were no ties of family or responsibilities other than business to shake off, so shouldering his pick and shovel, treasured through all these years, he joyously started with his chin up and his back straight, for the splendid freedom of the old familiar hills. His destination the long abandoned claim hidden away in the far-off wilds, where there was a chance, sure, and no one had yet, as far as he could learn, discovered the "lead."

He determined to go there again, to work it alone this time, and to be deliberate and to stay with it until the hills _did_ deliver up to him their royal secret. To this miner-man it meant life, real life, health and above all, freedom, with a big chance of a fortune. If it were a fool's folly, he would gamely take a "flyer" and abide by the result at any cost.

So this strong-handed, broad-shouldered man, big in heart and big in soul and a lover of the silent places, in answering the call of his old miner days, set his hopeful face toward the great mountains and the days to come, in reckless venture, with only faith, a pair of strong arms and a pick and spade to help him solve the problem. It is a well-known fact that these men going into the wildness and loneliness of these rugged heights, cherish a cat as indispensable to their camp life; as important an addition to their "grub stakes" as beans and coffee. And so intimate do these two become under their isolated, and often desperate conditions, that an almost human friendship and affection springs up between them.

At the last trading post nearest the mine the man planned to "outfit" and to secure a four-footed partner. The cat he thought would be so easy that he never gave it a second thought, but on his arrival at the little town busied himself packing and getting everything in light transportation order for the "return horse" on the morrow. These arrangements off his mind, he got very busy in looking about for the last requisite, a cat. His intentions in regard to acquiring one were perfectly honorable. He would beg one if possible, buy one if necessary, but he must have a cat at any price, not only for its company and usefulness, but in accordance with all past traditions of mines and miners. There were cats and cats a plenty in this little mining town, clinging to the rough side of the granite hill, but, as it seemed, none to spare. Not one to give away and not one to sell, and he might as well have tried to barter with the air, as no price or accommodation could induce any one of them to part with one of their precious little beasts, and he was in despair. After strenuous hours of vain persuasion, which had eliminated the question of choice or price in regard to the cat, he had gone to the public house for supper, exhausted and out of patience, but none the less determined on having the desired "partner." The early starlight found him sitting on the dark veranda, solitary and alone, pondering the cat question, not as to spots or breeding or even a cat, but as to which, and how. He must have a cat and these people being the last resort would have to furnish it at whatever cost. With his chair tilted back, his hands deep in his pockets and his face turned heavenward he seemed to be looking at the stars for inspiration, and from the short, quick puffs and lively glow of his pipe, it was evident he was thinking hard. After he had finished his smoke in silent cogitation with the sky, he seemed to have settled the difficult problem to his satisfaction, for when he rose to "turn in" there was the gleam of a slow smile on his rugged face. Knocking out his pipe and brushing the ashes from his breast, with a huge yawn, he stretched his arms up over his six feet of length, hardening his muscles for the morrow, and sauntered indoors for the few short hours of rest in a bed, which luxury he allowed himself as a grand finale to civilization.

In what seemed to him but a moment later, it was the next morning, and throwing aside the blankets he was up and out in the chill gray dawn without disturbing any of the household. As the eastern sky lightened the purple mists, he trudged cheerily along under the frosty twinkle of the receding stars, his back to the dusty little hamlet and a triumphant smile of contented satisfaction beaming on his happy face, turned toward the gleaming snow peaks of to-morrow. No one would have suspected this big happy tramp of having an infamous secret on his conscience or have surmised that he harbored a wee felony snuggled closely inside of his outer flannel shirt. As he had been in somewhat of a hurry in committing this crime, he had not been over-scrupulous in selecting any particular kind of a cat. Still, as he was at last in possession of a live kitten, a something he felt he could not have faced the solitude and silence of his lonely camp life without, in sweet content he would never be critical. This victory in the small matter of a small cat, attested well for his future, showing that he had resources and skillful ways of his own in circumventing an adverse fate, and that he was made of the stuff that wins in the end.