LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

and swaying in the light breeze. The audience, however, evinced but a languid interest in this graceful sport. It woke up for the next event, which was a race between a man afoot and a man horseback, twenty-five yards and back. This was very exciting. The man had the advantage of his quick start and quick turn; the horse of course possessed the speed. Anybody could try who wished; and there were a number of young men who confidently matched their legs or those of their horses against the other fellow. Here was a chance to bet; and the crowd took advantage of it. Then followed, of course, horse races—mere dashes of a hundred yards or so; the roping of very lively goats, that dodged fairly under the horse's legs or into the crowd which scattered laughing; and roping and tying calves against time.

      "We used to have bronco riding, and bull-dogging steers," observed the Colonel regretfully, "but that is a little rough and dangerous unless you can get the people behind fences or some sort of protection. It is better at the roundup."

      "What is bull-dogging?" asked Kenneth.

      "The man rides up alongside the steer, seizes him by the horns and throws him."

      "I don't see how he stays on——"

      "His horse? He doesn't. He leaves the saddle, and lets his horse go."

      "And wrestles down a full grown steer by main strength?" cried Kenneth, incredulously.

      ​"That's it. But it is a knack very largely."

      "I certainly should like to see that."

      "You shall, you shall!" cried the Colonel, heartily. "We'll get up a little rough riding one of these days and invite all the people like yourself who have not seen any of it. Let me see, you are out here for the winter?"

      "Yes sir, my name is Boyd. I am staying with my father at the hotel."

      "I shall remember that. And now," announced the Colonel, regretfully, "I suppose I must leave. Some of our guests will be going soon, and I would displease Mrs. Peyton if I were not there to say good-bye."

      He sprang down as lightly as a boy, arranged his frock coat and his hat, and made his way slowly through the crowd, a tall and commanding figure amongst even these sturdy sons and daughters of the open. Kenneth turned to say something to his companion on the other side; but she, too, had disappeared.

      V

      The shadows were long and cool, and a rose light rested on the mountains. Swallows had appeared and were darting in myriads across the sky. The meadowlarks' songs seemed louder and more liquid. A thin mist of gold dust followed the wheels of the guests departing. The vivid high brilliance of the California day had sunk to a lower key; and the vivid high brilliance of men's spirits had sunk with it. From the front steps, where once more the Colonel and his wife had taken their stand, the branches of the oaks showed very black against the pale green sky. Across the flats the westerly hills stood dark before the sunset, clearly denned, with gold edges. The blue of the heavens had lost its hard surface; it had etherealized and become translucent, so that one seemed to see millions of miles into its pale green depths. And its one doubtful star, instead of being pasted against the sky, appeared to swim somewhere at an indeterminate distance in infinite space. Under the trees the shadows stole out, breathing coolness, throwing the vagueness of twilight over well known things.

      ​Brainerd was the last of all the guests to leave. He was waiting for Daphne, who had disappeared. Caught by the spell of the slow-descending evening he stood with his host and hostess in silence, without impatience, without thought of fatigue.

      Then out of the dusk came Daphne, breaking the spell.

      "Where in the world have you been?" demanded Brainerd, a little impatiently. "You have kept us all waiting."

      "I am sorry for that," she replied, sidling up to the Colonel and taking his hand.

      "Where were you?"

      "Talking to my friends," she replied vaguely.

      "Well, we must get back."

      "Cannot I have José drive you over?" asked the Colonel.

      "No, no!" disclaimed Brainerd. "The walk will do us good."

      "The light on the mountains must be very fine," suggested the Colonel. "What say, mama, don't you think it would be pleasant to walk a short distance with our friends?"

      "Pleasant and salutary," laughed Allie. "I feel like a stuffed turkey after these barbecues. Everything is so good. Wait until I get my shawl."

      The Colonel and Daphne sauntered on ahead, while Brainerd, seating himself on the steps, lighted a pipe and waited for Mrs. Peyton.

      "Had a pleasant day, Puss?" asked the Colonel, throwing one arm around the child's shoulders.

      "Simply lovely, fairy godpapa," she replied, snuggling closer to him.

      "That's good, that's good," said he, raising his fine old face to peer up through the interlocking branches. They were now at the edge of the Grove under a great oak whose branches, immense as the trunks of ordinary sized trees, writhed and twisted fantastically, now reaching upward toward the low hollow dome of green, now touching the ground in their wide-flung spread. The main trunk was nearly six feet in diameter but divided at so low a height that three unobtrusive cleats nailed to its side sufficed to admit even a very small climber to the great anacondalike limbs.

      "Dolman's House," said Daphne. "Let's stop a minute."

      ​She dipped slightly away from him, but continued to hold his hand. They stood side by side looking upward.

      "You used to play here all your time when you were a little girl," said the Colonel. "All by yourself. I used to see you sitting there very still on the crook of that big limb; and I used to wonder what you could be doing to sit still so long."

      "Godpapa, do you believe in fairies?" demanded Daphne, abruptly.

      "Well, bless my soul, what a question!" cried the Colonel, looking down in mock astonishment. "Of course I don't! What sensible man does? But," he added quaintly, lowering his voice and looking about him, "there are a few near the Fern Falls."

      "That is a perfect answer," Daphne told him sedately. "Well, Dolman, I believe, is a fairy: a tree fairy. He lives in this oak. That's why I named it Dolman's House."

      "I often wondered," said the Colonel.

      "When I was a child I used to sit on the limb and talk to Dolman."

      "Did you ever see him?"

      "I can't say I ever did, but I am not sure. That is something, godpapa, that I never could understand. I ought to remember clearly enough: it wasn't so very long ago."

      "Not so very," agreed the Colonel.

      "But it's dim, and misty, like seeing the mountains when the fog is breaking. I sometimes think I remember clearly what happened, and then it's blotted out. I can't explain exactly——"

      "I think I understand," said the Colonel. "There are some things that way with my recollections of my youth."

      "Only it isn't so strange with you," said Daphne seriously, "because you are so extremely old."

      "Extremely," agreed the Colonel. "But tell me more about what you do remember."

      "It sounds rather silly," said Daphne. "Of course, I don't believe in it now. But I used to. Somehow I always knew of Dolman. I used to play with him—I think—he used to talk with me. It is hard to remember that it was all imagination. ​I remember it as real as anything. I used to sit on the limb and he would talk to me."

      "What would he say?" inquired the Colonel.

      "It's hard to remember. But he was kind and he did not scold." She laughed merrily. "Wasn't it silly?"

      "I don't know," said the Colonel. "How long ago did you stop talking to him?"

      "I can't remember

Скачать книгу