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Bonner, Geraldine, 1870-1930

"The Emigrant Trail"

Their light seemed caught and
held in aerial gulfs above the earth, making the heavens clear, while
the night clung close and undisturbed to the plain's face. Once from
afar the cry of an animal arose, a long, swelling howl, but around the
train all was still save for the crackling of the crushed sage stalks,
and the pad of hoofs.
It was near midnight when Susan's voice summoned Daddy John. The wagon
halted, and she beckoned him with a summoning arm. He ran to her,
circling the bushes with a youth's alertness, and stretched up to hear
her as she bent from the saddle. David must go in the wagon, he was
unable to ride longer. The old man swept him with a look of
inspection. The starlight showed a drooping figure, the face hidden by
the shadow of his hat brim. The mules were at the limit of their
strength, and the old man demurred, swearing under his breath and
biting his nails.
"You've got to take him," she said, "if it kills them. He would have
fallen off a minute ago if I hadn't put my arm around him."
"Come on, then," he answered with a surly look at David. "Come on and
ride, while the rest of us get along the best way we can.


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