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Authors: Charles D Stewart

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This turn of affairs was hardly calculated to please a Texas horse. What this
one thought about it, Janet very soon discovered; for however meekly his
stubborn spirit had given in to certain things, he had
not
consented to
wear a saddle on his belly; and this time when he pitched he seldom used earth
to stand on. He came down on this hateful globe of ours only to stamp on it and
kick it away from beneath him. Up he went and hung in space a moment as if he
were being hoisted by his middle and came down with a vengeance that jolted a
snort out of him; and up he went again, turning end for end and kicking the
atmosphere all the way round. He was no sooner down than he went up again,and
usually with a twist which threw him over to another hateful spot, from which he
flung himself as if it were hot. And all the time the hooded stirrup flew about
like a boot on a boneless leg and kicked him fore and aft.

Thoroughly insulted, he pitched by a mixture of methods which amazed Janet;
she ran farther back. Now she beheld a fine vaulting movement, going up with the
hoofs together, opening out in midair and coming down repeatedly in the same
place; and here he worked away industriously, stretching his loins with the
regularity of a machine and hitting away at the one spot in space with his fine
punctuating heels; then he settled down to a short shuttle-like movement, his
forelegs out stiff and his head down. It shook the saddle like a hopper; and the
stirrup danced a jig. In this movement he fairly scribbled himself on the air,
in red and white. Finding that this did not accomplish the purpose, he went back
to mixed methods a while and threw a confusion of side jumps and twisting leaps;
and then, after a particularly fine flight, he came down with a heavy lunge and
paused. He was standing with one of his own feet in the stirrup.

Janet would now hardly have been surprised to see him throw a somersault, as,
indeed, he seemed on the point of doing at times when he stood up so high that
he almost went over backwards. This time, after a moment of inaction, he reared
again, and as he stood up with his hind hoof in the stirrup the girth strap
parted and the saddle dropped from him. He jumped suddenly aside as if he were
startled at his success, and finding himself rid of it he gave a final flourish
to his heels and galloped away. The last Janet saw of him, he was going over a
knoll with a cow running on before. He seemed to be chasing it. We are not at
liberty to doubt that this was the case, for many a cow-pony takes so much
interest in his work that he will even crowd a cow as if to bite her tail, and
outdodge her every move. And so it is possible that Billy, finding a cow running
before him, took a little turn at his trade.

Janet, hatless, her hair half-down and her chatelaine bag yawning open, had
thus far given little thought to her various belongings scattered about in the
grass; but now that the accident was all done happening and she saw that she
would have to continue her journey afoot, her first concern was to get herself
together again. Luckily the comb and the hatpin had fallen in the same small
territory with the hat and were easily foundthough the hatpin, standing upright
amid the flowers, was hard to distinguish for a while; and the contents of her
bag, having spilled almost together, were soon accounted for except a small
circular mirror. This was very difficult, but presently she caught the flash of
it in the grass and gathered it up also. And now, ascertaining the condition of
her hair, she went to the place that had been made by her tumble from the horse,
and seating herself in it tailor-fashion, she set to work pulling out hairpins
and dropping them into her lap beside the rest of her property.

Having her hair in shape, she took up the hat. This part of her apparel,
which had been stepped on without detriment but needed brushing, might be
described as a man's hat in the sense that its maker had not intended it for a
young lady. It was a black hat, of soft felt, with a wide flat rim which had
been turned up in front and fastened with a breastpin, a measure which had
obviously been taken because the rim caught the wind in such a way as to cause
it to blow down over the eyesa thing which a true sombrero would not do. When
she had furbished it and put it on, she glanced at the image of herself in her
lap, and then, having held the little mirror at a distance to better view the
effect, she took it off and set to work with pins, making it three-cornered.
This proved to be quite a change; for whatever it might be said to look like in
her hands, it became a hat the moment she put it on; it had an appearance and an
air; and now the dark surface lent itself all to contrast with her light,
soft-hued hair and clear, delicate skin. It was still further improved, when,
having removed it again, she set it on at a rakish artillery angle. Possibly, if
hers had been the dark, nut-brown beauty, she would have seen that she looked
best lurking beneath its sombre shade, and therefore have turned the rim down
some way to even increase the shade; but Janet fitted that which was frank,
open, and aboveboard. And so she used the black for contrast rather than
obscuritybesides which there was another sort of contrast, for a soldier hat on
Janet was a striking foil for her utter femininity. And its romantic pretense
(so different from the dark gypsy-like romantic) was such an arrant little piece
of make-believe that it had the effect of playful candor, acknowledging how
impossible a man she would make; and while it was, strikingly, a pure case of
art for art's sake, you could not but remark how much better
she
looked
in it than any soldier could ever have done. To tell the truth, we do not really
pretend to know why Janet did this, or what taught her how to do it; anyway, she
did it; and now, having so easily accomplished one of the most difficult parts
of a self-made woman, she fixed it in position with the hatpin, snapped shut her
chatelaine bag, and rose to go.

Looking forward in the direction she had turned to, her mind began to be
crossed with doubts as to whether that was the right way. She looked in other
directions. Then she turned slowly about. What she saw was simply prairie all
the way round. Which part of that horizon had she come fromwhat point in space?
There is nothing so answerless.

She was now in a world where there was no such thing as direction except that
one side was opposite the other. There seemed to be nowhere that she could
really consider as a Place! The spot where she had been sitting seemed to be a
place; but now she realized that she could go far from it in any direction and
still be resting in the middle of nature's lap.

How she strained her mind out to the very edge of things and tried to think!
What endeavor she made to get out of her mind that which was not in it! She
could not but feel that it was all because she was "such a fool"for she could
hardly believe that a whole country could be so lacking in information.

Poor Janet! She even looked up toward the high sun and wondered what kind of
sailor science would compel him to divulge his relations with a certain wooden
gate. But there was no recognition there, no acknowledgment. The four quarters
of heaven were fitted together with a viewless joint. All was silent. Everything
was a secret.

Of course she finally thought of the obvious thing to do; but afterwards she
was sorry that she did, for that was just how she lost a good part of the
afternoon. She found traces of her horse's coursehere some flower stems had
been broken, and a little farther on, some more; and now that all was made plain
she took her slicker, which was tied in a roll behind the saddle, and, putting
her mind straight ahead on the course, she set out.

In his high gallop her horse had left no trail that she could follow as a
pathnothing but slight records which might be discovered upon close and
particular search. As his shoeless feet had made little or no impression on the
sward, and there were wide spaces where flowers were sparse, she decided, in
order to make progress, to go straight forward in the direction which had been
determined, and then, if the fence did not put in an appearance, to refer to the
trail again.

After a time, seeing nothing ahead, she began to look about, this side and
that, in doubt; and now, being "all turned round" again, she looked for the
trail. But she could not find it. Looking about everywhere, round and round and
farther and wider, she at last found herself inspecting her own footsteps and
following her own wandering path; and here she gave it up utterly. She knew she
was lost.

Again she peered out at a point in space and wondered if
that
was the
place she came from. How different the distance looked now from what it did when
she saw it down that endless road. That, at least, gave some shape to the
future; and though she had been in doubt as to what it might be like, she at
least knew it was there. Now the future was all around her. A thousand futures
now confronted herall done up alike in blue and awaiting her chance move, this
direction or that; whereby she may be said to have been confronted with the
world as it isa veritable old wheel of fortune. But she had to do something;
and the only thing to do was to walk. Making up her mind to the Somewhere in
front of her, she simply went ahead; for the afternoon was going and the night
was sure to comea prospect that filled her with dread.

It is no wonder that Lot's wife looked back when she was well out on the
plain. Probably she wanted to see where she was goingso Janet thought, as she
trudged wearily along. Or possibly the poor woman wanted to make sure that she
was going
at all
; for when you are walking always at the middle of
things, and not coming to anything, there is no progress. Janet thoughtfor she
had to think somethingthat she knew just how stationary Lot's wife felt when
she was turned into a pillar of salt. Possibly, if the truth were known, Lot's
wife desired to be turned into a pillar of saltwho can tell? Janet, walking
along so unrelated and ineffectual, rather fancied that she herself might want
to be turned into a salt-lick (she had passed one all worn hollow as the stone
of Mecca by the tongues of many Pilgrims); because if she were such a thing she
would not be so utterly useless and foolish under the eye of heaven. But still
she kept trudging along, feeling the growing weight of the slicker in her arms,
for Janet was not much of a hand to carry anything on her shoulder.

Janet walked and walked, but her walking did not seem to have any effect upon
that endless land. The fence did not put in its appearance, neither did a house
nor a path, nor anything else which would make it different from the sky-covered
plain that it was. It persisted in being itself, world without end, amen. To
make matters worse, her shoe began to hurt (she had suspected it would and taken
the man's promise that it would n't), and the more she persevered the more it
clamped her toe and wrung her heel and drew fire to her instep. But there was
nothing to do but walk; and she kept on with her footsteps till the operation
became monotonous. Still that roadless scene was unmoved. The world was "round
like an apple"; that she could plainly see. And as to her feelings, this globe
was just a big treadmill under her aching feet.

The only escape from such tyranny is to rise superior to it, withdrawing the
mind from its service; so she decided to think of something else. And now, as
she went on with no company but her own thoughts, she had a growing realization,
more and more vivid, of her fall from the horse and what the consequences might
have been. It was a miraculous escape, due to no management of hers. Suppose she
had been disabled!and in such a place! What a thought! She became frightened at
what was past. She had not really thought of it before; and now that she did,
her imagination was thrown wide open to the future, and she looked into the
possibilities ahead of her. A cow, she recalled, has been known to attack even a
horse and rider. And these wild range cattle; how might they take the presence
of a woman, never having seen one before? There were thousands of them wandering
about this big place, with horns that spread like the reach of a man's arms. Her
only recourse was to wish she were a man. This was a favorite wish of hers,
indulged in upon those occasions when she discovered that she had been a "silly
coward" or a "perfect fool." After all, she considered, a woman is n't much
loss.

"And it came to pass, when they had brought them forth abroad, that he said.
Escape for thy life; look not behind thee, neither stay thou in all the plain;
escape to the mountain, lest thou be consumed. But his wife looked back from
behind him, and she became a pillar of salt." It was an old Sunday-school
lesson. And Janet had to think something.

 

 

 

CHAPTER II

While Janet was determinedly putting her foot down on pain and keeping up the
light of faith on the distant sky-line, another and quite separate horizon was
witnessing a little incident of its own. On a spot on the prairie which was no
more a particular place than any other part of it, a lamb was born. The two
occupants of those parts, a man and a dog (not to mention a flock of sheep),
were soon at the spot where it lay, its small body marking down in white the
beginning of the Season. Nature had thus dropped her card announcing that
lambing-time was now here; and so the little white form in the grass, meaning so
much, claimed all the attention due to an important messagealbeit the message
was delivered with somewhat the carelessness of a handbill. The man stooped over
and looked straight down with an expression at once pleased and perplexed. As
coming troubles cast their shadows before, this little memento, coming on ahead
of a gay and giddy throng, raised visions of troublous and erratic times. The
dog, a genteel, white-ruffed collie, sat down and viewed the infant with a fine
look of high-browed intelligence, as if he were the physician in the case. The
lamb was an old friend of hisjust back from nature's laundry. The newcomer,
about a minute of age and not yet fully aware of itself, raised its round white
poll and looked forthwith a fixed gaze as foolishly irresponsible as if it were
a lamb that had just fallen off a Christmas tree.

BOOK: The Wrong Woman
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