Half way across the clearing she gave up in a long
pitiful wail.
The Boy, busy with his pony, had not missed her. In a moment he was by
her side, his arms about her neck.
"Don't cry, Polly honey, I'll be back before long," he pleaded.
The only answer was a sob:
"Good-by, Jeff--"
Her hands slowly slipped through his.
"Good-by, Polly--"
He watched her go with quivering lips, and as the little figure slowly
faded into the shadows of the woods he called in broken accents:
"Kiss Mamma for me--and tell her I wanted to go back and say
good-by--but Joe wouldn't let me!"
"Yes, honey!"
"And you--watch out for that old drunk man we saw once in the woods,
Polly!"
"Yes!"
"Don't let him get you--"
"No--I won't--good--good-by!"
"Good-by--"
The last good-by stuck in the Boy's throat, but he lifted his blue eyes,
saw his pony and smiled through the tears.
II
THE WILDERNESS
A journey of a thousand miles through the unbroken wilderness--the home
of the Choctaw and Chickasaw Indian Nations and all on his own beautiful
pony! It was no time for tears.
The Boy's soul leaped for joy.
The party was a delightful one. Major Hinds, a veteran of General
Jackson's campaign, the commander of the famous Mississippi Dragoons at
the battle of New Orleans, was the leader, accompanied by his wife, her
sister and niece, and best of all a boy his own age, the Major's little
son Howell.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25