The wind increased in fury.Fortunately it was at their back.Wilfred pressed forward on foot,leading Lahoma's horse;and,partly on account of their unequal position,partly because of awkward reserve,no more was said for a long time.She bent forward to shelter her face from the stinging blast while he trod firmly and methodically on and on,braced slightly backward against the wind,which was like a hand pushing him forward.
The voice of the wind filled the night.It whistled and shrieked in minor keys,dying away at brief intervals to come again with a rush and roar.It penetrated him to the bone,for he had compelled her to wrap herself in his overcoat,and when the first stinging grains of fiercely driven sleet pelted his cheek,he smothered a cry of dismay over her exposed situation.It could not be far past midnight.The prospect of a snow-storm in the bleak lands of the Kiowa appalled him,but even while facing that possibility his mind was busy with Lahoma's attitude toward himself.Evidently it had never occurred to her that Annabel had vanished from his fancy years ago;now that she knew,she was displeased--most unreasonably so,he thought.Lahoma did not approve of Annabel--why should she want him to remain passively under her yoke?Unconsciously his form stiffened in protest as he trudged forward.The wind,so far from showing signs of abatement,slightly increased,no longer with intervals of pause.The sleet changed rapidly first to snow,then to rain--then hail,snow and rain alternated,or descended simultaneously,always driven with cruel force by the relentless wind.
At last Lahoma shouted,It's a regular norther!How're you getting along,Wilfred?
Despite their discomfort,his heart leaped at this unexpected note of comradeship.Had she already forgiven him for not loving Annabel?Oh,Lahoma!he cried with sudden tenderness,what will become of you?
She returned gravely,What will become of Brick?Northers are bad,but not so bad as some men--Red Kimball,for instance.A terrific blast shook the half-frozen overcoat about her shoulders as if to snatch it away.
Don't you wish the Indians built their villages closer to the trail?Ugh!Hadn't we better burrow a storm-cellar in the sand?I feel awfully high up in the air.Poor Lahoma!
Believe I'll walk with you,Wilfred;I'm turning to a lady-icicle.
Do!I know it would warm you up--a little.His teeth showed an inclination to chatter.Come--I'll help you down.Can you find my arm?
At that moment the horse gave a violent lunge,then came to a standstill,quivering and snorting with fright.Wilfred's groping arm found the saddle empty.
I didn't have to climb down,announced her uncertain voice from a distance.It came seemingly from the level of the plain.
You've fallen--you are hurt!he exclaimed,but he could not go to her because the horse refused to budge from the spot and he dared not loosen his hold.
Well,I'm a little warmer,anyway!Her voice approached slowly.That was quick exercise;I didn't know I was going to do it till I was down.Lit on my feet,anyhow.Why don't you come to meet me?
This miserable beast won't move a foot.Come and hold him,Lahoma,while I examine in front,to find out what's scared him.
All right.Where are you?Can you find my hand?Can't I!retorted Wilfred,clasping it in a tight grasp.
Gracious,how wet we are!she panted,and blown about.And frozen.
And scolded,he added plaintively.
But,Wilfred,it never entered my mind that l was the little girl.Would I have brought up the subject if I'd known the truth?I never would.That's why I felt you took advantage ...a man ought to bring up that subject himself even if I AM a girl out West and--
But Lahoma--
And not another word do I want you to say about it.EVER.At least,tonight.PLEASE,Wilfred!So I can think about it.I'll hold the horse--you go on and find out what's the matter.
Besides,you said--you KNOW you said,when we were strolling--that--that I didn't understand such matters.And that you'd tell me when it was TIME....
It's time now,Lahoma,time for you to be somebody's sweetheart--and you said--you KNOW you said,when we were strolling--that I'd fill the bill for you.
But I brought up the subject myself,and I mean to close it,right short off,for it's a man's subject.Oh,how trembly this horse is!
But,Lahoma!Well,what is it?
I just wanted to say your name.He started away.It sounds good to me.
Yes,it stands for Oklahoma.
It stands for much more than that!he called.
Yes,she persisted in misunderstanding him,something big and grand.
Not so big,he cried,now at some distance,but what there's room for more than Brick and Bill in the cove!
If she answered,the wind drowned her words.With extended arms he groped along the trail with exceeding caution.Suddenly his foot touched an object which on examination proved to be a human body,a gaping wound in its breast.
Found anything?called Lahoma,her voice shivering.
He rose quickly and almost stumbled over another object.It was a second body,stiffened in death.
I'll be there in a minute,he called,his voice grave and steady.After a brief pause he added--I've found one of the horses--it's dead.
Oh,oh!she exclaimed.They've driven it to death.
Wilfred had found a bullet hole behind its ear,but he said nothing.
Suddenly the horse held by Lahoma gave a plunge,broke away and went galloping back over the trail they had traversed,pursued by Lahoma's cry of dismay.I couldn't hold him,she gasped.He lifted me clear off the ground....
Wilfred was also dismayed,but he preserved an accent of calm as he felt his way toward her,uttering encouragement for which their condition offered no foundation.But his forced cheerfulness suddenly changed to real congratulation when his extended hand struck against an upright wheel.
Lahoma,here's the stage-coach.It's standing just as we saw it last,except for the horses.
