RAVEN TO THE RESCUE
Overhead the stars were still twinkling far in the western sky.
The crescent moon still shone serene, marshaling her attendant constellations.Eastward the prairie still lay in deep shadow, its long rolls outlined by the deeper shadows lying in the hollows between.Over the Bow and the Elbow mists hung like white veils swathing the faces of the rampart hills north and south.In the little town a stillness reigned as of death, for at length Calgary was asleep, and sound asleep would remain for hours to come.
Not so the world about.Through the dead stillness of the waning night the liquid note of the adventurous meadow lark fell like the dropping of a silver stream into the pool below.Brave little heart, roused from slumber perchance by domestic care, perchance by the first burdening presage of the long fall flight waiting her sturdy careless brood, perchance stirred by the first thrill of the Event approaching from the east.For already in the east the long round tops of the prairie undulations are shining gray above the dark hollows and faint bars of light are shooting to the zenith, fearless forerunners of the dawn, menacing the retreating stars still bravely shining their pale defiance to the oncoming of their ancient foe.Far toward the west dark masses still lie invincible upon the horizon, but high above in the clear heavens white shapes, indefinite and unattached, show where stand the snow-capped mountain peaks.Thus the swift and silent moments mark the fortunes of this age-long conflict.But sudden all heaven and all earth thrill tremulous in eager expectancy of the daily miracle when, all unaware, the gray light in the eastern horizon over the roll of the prairie has grown to silver, and through the silver a streamer of palest rose has flashed up into the sky, the gay and gallant 'avant courier' of an advancing host, then another and another, then by tens and hundreds, till, radiating from a center yet unseen, ten thousand times ten thousand flaming flaunting banners flash into orderly array and possess the utmost limits of the heavens, sweeping before them the ever paling stars, that indomitable rearguard of the flying night, proclaiming to all heaven and all earth the King is come, the Monarch of the Day.
Flushed in the new radiance of the morning, the long flowing waves of the prairie, the tumbling hills, the mighty rocky peaks stand surprised, as if caught all unprepared by the swift advance, trembling and blushing in the presence of the triumphant King, waiting the royal proclamation that it is time to wake and work, for the day is come.
All oblivious of this wondrous miracle stands Billy, his powers of mind and body concentrated upon a single task, that namely of holding down to earth the game little bronchos, Mustard and Pepper, till the party should appear.Nearby another broncho, saddled and with the knotted reins hanging down from his bridle, stood viewing with all too obvious contempt the youthful frolics of the colts.
Well he knew that life would cure them of all this foolish waste of spirit and of energy.Meantime on his part he was content to wait till his master--Dr.Martin, to wit--should give the order to move.
His master meantime was busily engaged with clever sinewy fingers packing in the last parcels that represented the shopping activities of Cameron and his wife during the past two days.There was a whole living and sleeping outfit for the family to gather together.
Already a heavily laden wagon had gone on before them.The building material for the new house was to follow, for it was near the end of September and a tent dwelling, while quite endurable, does not lend itself to comfort through a late fall in the foothill country.
Besides, there was upon Cameron, and still more upon his wife, the ever deepening sense of a duty to be done that could not wait, and for the doing of that duty due preparation must be made.Hence the new house must be built and its simple appointments and furnishings set in order without delay, and hence the laden wagon gone before and the numerous packages in the democrat, covered with a new tent and roped securely into place.
This packing and roping the doctor made his peculiar care, for he was a true Canadian, born and bred in the atmosphere of pioneer days in old Ontario, and the packing and roping could be trusted to no amateur hands, for there were hills to go up and hills to go down, sleughs to cross and rivers to ford with all their perilous contingencies before they should arrive at the place where they would be.
"All secure, Martin?" said Cameron, coming out from the hotel with hand bags and valises.
"They'll stay, I think," replied the doctor, "unless those bronchos of yours get away from you.""Aren't they dears, Billy?" cried Moira, coming out at the moment and dancing over to the bronchos' heads.
"Well, miss," said Billy with judicial care, "I don't know about that.They're ornery little cusses and mean-actin.' They'll go straight enough if everything is all right, but let anythin' go wrong, a trace or a line, and they'll put it to you good and hard.""I do not think I would be afraid of them," replied the girl, reaching out her hand to stroke Pepper's nose, a movement which surprised that broncho so completely that he flew back violently upon the whiffle-tree, carrying Billy with him.
"Come up here, you beast!" said Billy, giving him a fierce yank.
"Oh, Billy!" expostulated Moira.
"Oh, he ain't no lady's maid, miss.You would, eh, you young devil,"--this to Pepper, whose intention to walk over Billy was only too obvious--"Get back there, will you! Now then, take that, and stand still!" Billy evidently did not rely solely upon the law of love in handling his broncho.
Moira abandoned him and climbed to her place in the democrat between Cameron and his wife.
