Yes--and then,oh!the most wonderful thing happened:a family settled in the arm of the mountain at the west end--a family that had a woman and a baby in it--a sure-enough woman with a sweet face and of a high grade though worked down pretty level what from hardships--and a baby that laughed,just laughed whenever he saw me coming in the dugout--and I was over there every day.And that's how I got to be like a woman,and know how to dress,and how to meet strangers without being scared,and preside at table,and use language like this.Other settlers began coming into Greer,but they were far away,and Brick and Bill don't like folks,so they stayed shut up pretty close.But for three years I had the mother and her baby to show me how to be a woman.Then came the soldiers.Brick thinks a big cattle-king stood in with Congress,and he got the soldiers sent here to drive out all the settlers because they were beginning to farm the land instead of letting it grow wild for the cattle.Anyway,all the settlers were driven out of the country--and it's been four years since I lost my only friends in the world--except Brick and Bill.What makes me and Brick and Bill mad is,that the soldiers didn't have any right to drive out the settlers,because Texas claims this country,and so does the United States,but it's never been settled.
But they didn't drive YOU out,Wilfred remarked inquiringly.You see,Brick explained simply,we didn't want to go.
It nearly broke Mrs.Featherby's heart to have to leave,Lahoma added,for they'd got a good stand of wheat and I think she liked me 'most as well as I liked her.But Mr.Featherby came from Ohio,and he had respect to the government,so when the soldiers said 'Go,'he pulled up stakes.
We ain't got no respect to nothing,Brick explained,that stands in the way of doing what we're a mind to.The soldiers come to force us out,but they changed their minds.I reckon they knew they hadn't no morality on their side.Sure thing,they knowed they had but very little safety,whilst occupying their position.None was left but us in this country till you cattlemen come monopolizing Heaven and earth.Knowing we got just as much right to this cove as Uncle Sam himself,we expect to stay here at anchor till Lahoma steams out into the big world with sails spread.She expects to tug us along behind her--but I don't know,I'm afraid we'd draw heavy.Until that time comes,however,we 'lows to lay to,in this harbor.We feels sheltered.Nothing ain't more sheltering than knowing you have a moral right and a dependable gun.
So that's about all,Lahoma went on.These past four years,we've just been to ourselves,with a long journey once a year to the settlements;and all the time I had those sweet thoughts to dream over,about the little family that used to live in the west mountain.And I've tried to do like Mrs.Featherby used to do,and be like she was,and if I can make as fine a woman I needn't ask any more.She'd been to Europe,too,and she'd taught school in New England.Bill Atkins is higher up than Brick--Bill used to know Kit Carson and all those famous pioneers,and he's been most everywhere--except in settled places.When a boy he saw Sam Houston and ate with him,and he has heard David Crockett with his own ears--has heard him say 'Be sure you're right,then go ahead,'that's how far BILL has been.But it sort of hurt Brick's neck,and even Bill's,to look up high enough to see where Mrs.Featherby had risen.She was like you--right out of the big world.She came out here because the family was awful poor.Is that why you left the big world?
Wilfred shook his head.I'm poor enough,he said,but it wasn't that.It was a girl.
Brick Willock explained,He's got a sweetheart;he's been carrying her letters for about two years.He's done spoke for,Lahoma,staked out,as a fellow might say,and squatted on.
Lahoma looked at him in breathless interest.A girl out in the big world?Completely civilized,I reckon!Was she as old as I am?
Why,honey!Brick exclaimed uneasily,YOU ain't got no age at all,to speak of!What are you but a mere child?This young man is talking about them as has got up to be old enough to think of sweethearting--something respectable in YEARS.
And how old does a sweetheart have to be?demanded Lahoma with some displeasure.I feel old enough for anything,and Wilfred doesn't look any older than the knight standing guard in THE TALISMAN.Besides,look at David Copperfield and Little Em'ly.
That was child's work,retorted Brick.
I was afraid of this,growled Bill Atkins restlessly.
Wilfred laughed out.Don't worry.My eastern girl is at least nineteen years old,and so thoroughly civilized that she thinks this part of the world is still overrun with Indians and buffaloes.She wouldn't live out here for a
fortune,and she wouldn't marry a man back East without one--that's why I'm here.I didn't have the fortune.
Does she LOVE you,Wilfred?Her voice was so soft,her eyes were so big,that Bill uttered a smothered groan,and even Brick sat up.
She did the last time I saw her--can't say how she feels now;that's been about two years ago.He spoke lightly;but gazing into the wonderful depths of Lahoma's eyes,he felt a queer sensation like a lost heart-beat.
Did she send you here as a kind of test?
Oh,no,she told me good-by and we parted forever.Both of us were poor,--you can't live in the city if you're poor;you can BE poor there,but not LIVE.By this time she's found some one with property,I dare say--she's tremendously handsome and accomplished,and has a very distinguished-looking mother and they have friends in society--she'll make it all right,no doubt.His voice was matter-of-fact even to indifference;but for all that,he seemed to be deeply inhaling Lahoma's freshness of morning-rose sparkling with dew.
Does it pierce your heart to think of her marrying somebody else?Her voice was sweet with the dream-passion of a young girl.
