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Bonner, Geraldine, 1870-1930

"The Emigrant Trail"

It was going to be all right Daddy John
thought. David gone, whether forever or for an unknown period, the
mountain man might yet win her. And then again the old man fell a
wondering at something in them that did not suggest the unassured
beginnings of courtship, a settled security of relation as of complete
unity in a mutual enterprise.
One afternoon a faint spot of green rose and lingered on the horizon.
They thought it a mirage and watched it with eyes grown weary of the
desert's delusions. But as the road bore toward it, it steadied to
their anxious gaze, expanded into a patch that lay a living touch on
the earth's dead face. By the time that dusk gathered they saw that it
was trees and knew that Humboldt was in sight. At nightfall they
reached it, the first outpost sent into the wilderness by the new
country. The red light of fires came through the dusk like a welcoming
hail from that unknown land which was to be theirs. After supper Daddy
John and Courant left the girl and went to the mud house round which
the camps clustered. The darkness was diluted by the red glow of fires
and astir with dusky figures.


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