an
Arizona plain, no knowing how many miles from anywhere, at somewhere
between nine and ten o'clock at night! It seemed incredible that it had
really happened! Perhaps she was dreaming! A few moments before in the
bright car, surrounded by drowsy fellow-travelers, almost at her
journey's end, as she supposed; and now, having merely done as she
thought right, she was stranded here!
She rubbed her eyes and looked again up the track, half expecting to see
the train come back for her. Surely, surely the conductor, or the porter
who had been so kind, would discover that she was gone, and do something
about it. They couldn't leave her here alone on the prairie! It would be
too dreadful!
That vision of her father and mother off against the purple-green
distance, how it shook her! The lamp looked bright and cheerful, and she
could see her father's head with its heavy white hair. He turned to look
at her mother to tell her of something he read in the paper. They were
sitting there, feeling contented and almost happy about her, and she,
their little girl--all her dignity as school-teacher dropped from her
like a garment now--she was standing in this empty space alone, with
only an engine's water-tank to keep her from dying, and only the barren,
desolate track to connect her with the world of men and women. She
dropped her head upon her breast and the tears came, sobbing, choking,
raining down. Then off in the distance she heard a low, rising howl of
some snarling, angry beast, and she lifted her head and stood in
trembling terror, clinging to the tank.
That sound was coyotes or wolves howling. She had read about them, but
had not expected to experience them in such a situation. How confidently
had she accepted the position which offered her the opening she had
sought for the splendid career that she hoped was to follow! How
fearless had she been! Coyotes, nor Indians, nor wild cowboy
students--nothing had daunted her courage. Besides, she told her mother
it was very different going to a town from what it would be if she were
a missionary going to the wilds. It was an important school she was to
teach, where her Latin and German and mathematical achievements had won
her the place above several other applicants, and where her well-known
tact was expected to work wonders. But what were Latin and German and
mathematics now? Could they show her how to climb a water-tank? Would
tact avail with a hungry wolf?
The howl in the
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