When Margaret was a very little girl her father and mother had left her alone for an hour with a stranger while they went out to make a call in a strange city through which they were passing on a summer trip. The stranger was kind, and gave to the child a large green box of bits of old black lace and purple ribbons to play with, but she turned sorrowfully from the somber1 array of finery, which was the only thing in the way of a plaything the woman had at hand, and stood looking drearily2 out of the window on the strange, new town, a feeling of utter loneliness upon her. Her little heart was almost choked with the awfulness of the thought that she was a human atom drifted apart from every other atom she had ever known, that she had a personality and a responsibility of her own, and that she must face this thought of herself and her aloneness for evermore. It was the child's first realization3 that she was a separate being apart from her father and mother, and she was almost consumed with the terror of it.
As she rose now from her bed on the ground and looked out across that vast waste, in which the only other living creature was that sinister4, watching eagle, the same feeling returned to her and made her tremble like the little child who had turned from her box of ancient finery to realize her own little self and its terrible aloneness.
For an instant even her realization of God, which had from early childhood been present with her, seemed to have departed. She could not grasp anything save the vast empty silence that loomed5 about her so awfully6. She was alone, and about as far from anywhere or anything as she could possibly be in the State of Arizona. Would she ever get back to human habitations? Would her friends ever be able to find her?
Then her heart flew back to its habitual7 refuge, and she spoke8 aloud and said, "God is here!" and the thought seemed to comfort her. She looked about once more on the bright waste, and now it did not seem so dreary9.
"God is here!" she repeated, and tried to realize that this was a part of His habitation. She could not be lost where God was. He knew the way out. She had only to trust. So she dropped upon her knees in the sand and prayed for trust and courage.
When she rose again she walked steadily10 to a height a little above the camp-fire, and, shading her eyes, looked carefully in every direction. No, there was not a sign of her recent companions. They must have stolen away in the night quite soon after she fell asleep, and have gone fast and far, so that they were now beyond the reach of her eyes, and not anywhere was there sign of living thing, save that eagle still sweeping11 in great curves and poising12 again above the distant mesa.
Where was her horse? Had the Indians taken that, too? She searched the valley, but saw no horse at first. With sinking heart she went back to where her things were and sat down by the dying fire to think, putting a few loose twigs13 and sticks together to keep the embers bright while she could. She reflected that she had no matches, and this was probably the last fire she would have until somebody came to her rescue or she got somewhere by herself. What was she to do? Stay right where she was or start out on foot? And should she go backward or forward? Surely, surely the Brownleighs would miss her pretty soon and send out a search-party for her. How could it be that they trusted an Indian who had done such a cruel thing as to leave a woman unprotected in the desert? And yet, perhaps, they did not know his temptation to drink. Perhaps they had thought he could not get any firewater. Perhaps he would return when he came to himself and realized what he had done.
And now she noticed what she had not seen at first—a small bottle of water on a stone beside the blackened bread. Realizing that she was very hungry and that this was the only food at hand, she sat down beside the fire to eat the dry bread and drink the miserable14 coffee. She must have strength to do whatever was before her. She tried not to think how her mother would feel if she never came back, how anxious they would be as they waited day by day for her letters that did not come. She reflected with a sinking heart that she had, just before leaving, written a hasty note to her mother telling her not to expect anything for several days, perhaps even as much as two weeks, as she was going out of civilization for a little while. How had she unwittingly sealed her fate by that! For now not even by way of her alarmed home could help come to her.
She put the last bit of hard corn bread in her pocket for a further time of need, and began to look about her again. Then she spied with delight a moving object far below her in the valley, and decided15 it was a horse, perhaps her own. He was a mile away, at least, but he was there, and she cried out with sudden joy and relief.
She went over to her blanket and bags, which had been beside her during the night, and stood a moment trying to think what to do. Should she carry the things to the horse or risk leaving them here while she went after the horse and brought him to the things? No, that would not be safe. Some one might come along and take them, or she might not be able to find her way back again in this strange, wild waste. Besides, she might not get the horse, after all, and would lose everything. She must carry her things to the horse. She stooped to gather them up, and something bright beside her bag attracted her. It was the sun shining on the silver dollar she had given to the Indian woman. A sudden rush of tears came to her eyes. The poor creature had tried to make all the reparation she could for thus hastily leaving the white woman in the desert. She had given back the money—all she had that was valuable! Beside the dollar rippled16 a little chain of beads17 curiously18 wrought19, an inanimate appeal for forgiveness and a grateful return for the kindness shown her. Margaret smiled as she stooped again to pick up her things. There had been a heart, after all, behind that stolid20 countenance21, and some sense of righteousness and justice. Margaret decided that Indians were not all treacherous22. Poor woman! What a life was hers—to follow her grim lord whither he would lead, even as her white sister must sometimes, sorrowing, rebelling, crying out, but following! She wondered if into the heart of this dark sister there ever crept any of the rebellion which led some of her white sisters to cry aloud for "rights" and "emancipation23."
But it was all a passing thought to be remembered and turned over at a more propitious24 time. Margaret's whole thoughts now were bent25 on her present predicament.
The packing was short work. She stuffed everything into the two bags that were usually hung across the horse, and settled them carefully across her shoulders. Then she rolled the blanket, took it in her arms, and started. It was a heavy burden to carry, but she could not make up her mind to part with any of her things until she had at least made an effort to save them. If she should be left alone in the desert for the night the blanket was indispensable, and her clothes would at least do to drop as a trail by which her friends might find her. She must carry them as far as possible. So she started.
It was already high day, and the sun was intolerably hot. Her heavy burden was not only cumbersome26, but very warm, and she felt her strength going from her as she went; but her nerve was up and her courage was strong. Moreover, she prayed as she walked, and she felt now the presence of her Guide and was not afraid. As she walked she faced a number of possibilities in the immediate27 future which were startling, and to say the least, undesirable28. There were wild animals in this land, not so much in the daylight, but what of the night? She had heard that a woman was always safe in that wild Western land; but what of the prowling Indians? What of a possible exception to the Western rule of chivalry29 toward a decent woman? One small piece of corn bread and less than a pint30 of water were small provision on which to withstand a siege. How far was it to anywhere?
It was then she remembered for the first time that one word—"Walpi!" uttered by the Indian as he came to a halt the night before and pointed31 far to the mesa—"Walpi." She lifted her eyes now and scanned the dark mesa. It loomed like a great battlement of rock against the sky. Could it be possible there were people dwelling32 there? She had heard, of course, about the curious Hopi villages, each village a gigantic house of many rooms, called pueblos33, built upon the lofty crags, sometimes five or six hundred feet above the desert.
Could it be that that great castle-looking outline against the sky before her, standing34 out on the end of the mesa like a promontory35 above the sea, was Walpi? And if it was, how was she to get up there? The rock rose sheer and steep from the desert floor. The narrow neck of land behind it looked like a slender thread. Her heart sank at thought of trying to storm and enter, single-handed, such an impregnable fortress36. And yet, if her friends were there, perhaps they would see her when she drew near and come to show her the way. Strange that they should have gone on and left her with those treacherous Indians! Strange that they should have trusted them so, in the first place! Her own instincts had been against trusting the man from the beginning. It must be confessed that during her reflections at this point her opinion of the wisdom and judgment37 of the Brownleighs was lowered several notches38. Then she began to berate39 herself for having so easily been satisfied about her escort. She should have read the letter more carefully. She should have asked the Indians more questions. She should, perhaps, have asked Jasper Kemp's advice, or got him to talk to the Indian. She wished with all her heart for Bud, now. If Bud were along he would be saying some comical boy-thing, and be finding a way out of the difficulty. Dear, faithful Bud!
The sun rose higher and the morning grew hotter. As she descended40 to the valley her burdens grew intolerable, and several times she almost cast them aside. Once she lost sight of her pony41 among the sage-brush, and it was two hours before she came to him and was able to capture him and strap42 on her burdens. She was almost too exhausted43 to climb into the saddle when all was ready; but she managed to mount at last and started out toward the rugged44 crag ahead of her.
The pony had a long, hot climb out of the valley to a hill where she could see very far again, but still that vast emptiness reigned45. Even the eagle had disappeared, and she fancied he must be resting like a great emblem46 of freedom on one of the points of the castle-like battlement against the sky. It seemed as if the end of the world had come, and she was the only one left in the universe, forgotten, riding on her weary horse across an endless desert in search of a home she would never see again.
Below the hill there stretched a wide, white strip of sand, perhaps two miles in extent, but shimmering47 in the sun and seeming to recede48 ahead of her as she advanced. Beyond was soft greenness—something growing—not near enough to be discerned as cornfields. The girl drooped49 her tired head upon her horse's mane and wept, her courage going from her with her tears. In all that wide universe there seemed no way to go, and she was so very tired, hungry, hot, and discouraged! There was always that bit of bread in her pocket and that muddy-looking, warm water for a last resort; but she must save them as long as possible, for there was no telling how long it would be before she had more.
There was no trail now to follow. She had started from the spot where she had found the horse, and her inexperienced eyes could not have searched out a trail if she had tried. She was going toward that distant castle on the crag as to a goal, but when she reached it, if she ever did, would she find anything there but crags and lonesomeness and the eagle?
Drying her tears at last, she started the horse on down the hill, and perhaps her tears blinded her, or because she was dizzy with hunger and the long stretch of anxiety and fatigue50 she was not looking closely. There was a steep place, a sharp falling away of the ground unexpectedly as they emerged from a thicket51 of sage-brush, and the horse plunged52 several feet down, striking sharply on some loose rocks, and slipping to his knees; snorting, scrambling53, making brave effort, but slipping, half rolling, at last he was brought down with his frightened rider, and lay upon his side with her foot under him and a sensation like a red-hot knife running through her ankle.
Margaret caught her breath in quick gasps54 as they fell, lifting a prayer in her heart for help. Then came the crash and the sharp pain, and with a quick conviction that all was over she dropped back unconscious on the sand, a blessed oblivion of darkness rushing over her.
When she came to herself once more the hot sun was pouring down upon her unprotected face, and she was conscious of intense pain and suffering in every part of her body. She opened her eyes wildly and looked around. There was sage-brush up above, waving over the crag down which they had fallen, its gray-greenness shimmering hotly in the sun; the sky was mercilessly blue without a cloud. The great beast, heavy and quivering, lay solidly against her, half pinning her to earth, and the helplessness of her position was like an awful nightmare from which she felt she might waken if she could only cry out. But when at last she raised her voice its empty echo frightened her, and there, above her, with wide-spread wings, circling for an instant, then poised55 in motionless survey of her, with cruel eyes upon her, loomed that eagle—so large, so fearful, so suggestive in its curious stare, the monarch56 of the desert come to see who had invaded his precincts and fallen into one of his snares57.
With sudden frenzy58 burning in her veins59 Margaret struggled and tried to get free, but she could only move the slightest bit each time, and every motion was an agony to the hurt ankle.
It seemed hours before she writhed60 herself free from that great, motionless horse, whose labored61 breath only showed that he was still alive. Something terrible must have happened to the horse or he would have tried to rise, for she had coaxed62, patted, cajoled, tried in every way to rouse him. When at last she crawled free from the hot, horrible body and crept with pained progress around in front of him, she saw that both his forelegs lay limp and helpless. He must have broken them in falling. Poor fellow! He, too, was suffering and she had nothing to give him! There was nothing she could do for him!
Then she thought of the bottle of water, but, searching for it, found that her good intention of dividing it with him was useless, for the bottle was broken and the water already soaked into the sand. Only a damp spot on the saddle-bag showed where it had departed.
Then indeed did Margaret sink down in the sand in despair and begin to pray as she had never prayed before.
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1
somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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drearily
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| 沉寂地，厌倦地，可怕地 | |
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3
realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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4
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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5
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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7
habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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8
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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9
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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10
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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12
poising
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| 使平衡( poise的现在分词 )； 保持（某种姿势）； 抓紧； 使稳定 | |
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13
twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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14
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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15
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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rippled
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| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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17
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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18
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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19
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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20
stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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21
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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22
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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23
emancipation
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| n.（从束缚、支配下）解放 | |
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24
propitious
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| adj.吉利的；顺利的 | |
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25
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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26
cumbersome
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| adj.笨重的，不便携带的 | |
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27
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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28
undesirable
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| adj.不受欢迎的，不良的，不合意的，讨厌的；n.不受欢迎的人，不良分子 | |
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29
chivalry
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| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
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30
pint
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| n.品脱 | |
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31
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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32
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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33
pueblos
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| n.印第安人村庄( pueblo的名词复数 ) | |
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34
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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35
promontory
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| n.海角；岬 | |
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36
fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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38
notches
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| n.（边缘或表面上的）V型痕迹( notch的名词复数 )；刻痕；水平；等级 | |
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39
berate
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| v.训斥，猛烈责骂 | |
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40
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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41
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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42
strap
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| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
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43
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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44
rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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45
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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46
emblem
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| n.象征，标志；徽章 | |
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47
shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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48
recede
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| vi.退(去)，渐渐远去；向后倾斜，缩进 | |
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49
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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50
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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51
thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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52
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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53
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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54
gasps
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| v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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55
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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56
monarch
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| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
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57
snares
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| n.陷阱( snare的名词复数 )；圈套；诱人遭受失败（丢脸、损失等）的东西；诱惑物v.用罗网捕捉，诱陷，陷害( snare的第三人称单数 ) | |
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58
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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59
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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60
writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
labored
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| adj.吃力的，谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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62
coaxed
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的过去式和过去分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱 | |
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