Daddy John, mounting to his seat, cried:
"There's the sun coming up to wish us God-speed."
She turned and saw it rising huge and red over the hill's shoulder, and
held up her son to see. The great ball caught his eyes and he stared
in tranced delight. Then he leaped against the restraint of her arm,
kicking on her breast with his heels, stretching a grasping hand toward
the crimson ball, a bright and shining toy to play with.
Its light fell red on the three faces--the child's waiting for life to
mold its unformed softness, the woman's stamped with the gravity of
deep experience, the man's stern with concentrated purpose. They
watched in silence till the baby gave a cry, a thin, sweet sound of
wondering joy that called them back to it. Again they looked at one
another, but this time their eyes held no memories. The thoughts of
both reached forward to the coming years, and they saw themselves
shaping from this offspring of their lawless passion what should be a
man, a molder of the new Empire, a builder of the Promised Land.
FINIS
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Emigrant Trail, by Geraldine Bonner
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EMIGRANT TRAIL ***
***** This file should be named 19113.
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