The Lions of the Lord - A Tale of the Old West by Harry Leon Wilson
page 67 of 447 (14%)
page 67 of 447 (14%)
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"Wal, now, I'm right sorry about that, but it got out before you come
over. Tarlton McKenny's boy, Nephi, rowed over in a skiff and brought the news, and some of the women went and tattled it to your ma. I guess it upset her considerable. You go up and see her." He ran forward toward the head of the train, hearing as he went words of sympathy hurried to him by those he passed. Mounting the wagon, he climbed over the seat to where his mother lay. She seemed to sleep in spite of the jolting. The driver called back to him: "She took on terrible for a spell, Brother Rae. She's only jest now got herself pacified." He put his hand on her forehead and found it burning. She stirred and moaned and muttered disjointed sentences. He heard his father's name, his sister's, and his own, and he knew she was delirious. He eased her bed as well as he could, and made a place for himself beside her where he could sit and take one of the pale, thin hands between his own and try to endow her with some of his abundant life. He stayed by her until their camping-place was reached. Once for a moment she opened her eyes with what seemed to him a more than normal clearness and understanding and memory in them. Though she looked at him long without speaking, she seemed to say all there was to say, so that the brief span was full of anguish for him. He sighed with relief when the consciousness faded again from her look, and she fell to babbling once more of some long gone day in her girlhood. When the wagon halted he was called outside by the driver, who wished instructions regarding the camp to be made. A few moments later he was |
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