in the
intervals when, having gratified an appetite that was alarming in its
heartiness, she sat in the sun with the dogs about her, or drove with
her mother in the new buckboard, she pondered them exultantly and with a
confidence that was absolute.

However, it was not until she was so well that she was again saying pert
things to the eldest brother, and so strong that she was once more
tending the herd, that she determined to pay the cattleman a visit and
remind him of his agreement. Aware that the family would oppose her
acceptance of a gift from a neighbor, she made her preparations for the
trip in secret, and quietly left the farm-house one Sunday afternoon,
taking with her a bridle and a gunny feed-bag half filled with oats.

She had chosen a Sunday for several reasons: she was always relieved on
that day of the task of herding, the youngest brother taking her place;
her mother invariably spent it in writing long letters that traveled
across land and sea to far-away England; and the eldest and biggest
brothers puttered it away in the blacksmith-shop, where there were farm
implements to mend, hoes to sharpen, and picket-ropes and tugs to
splice. Usually it was the lonesomest day of the week to the little
girl; but this Sunday proved to be an exception.

She was careful not to disturb the household as she set off, and when
she passed the cattle, which were feeding in the river meadows, she
crept round them as slyly as an Indian, so that the youngest brother,
who was fashioning willow whistles, should not see her. Once having
gained the straight road that led across the railroad track toward the
cattleman's, she took off her hat and made faster progress.

But the way was long, and, still weak from her recent sickness, she was
easily tired. When only two thirds of the distance was traveled it was
so late that the night-blooming flowers were unfolding their chalices,
as white and glimmering as the little girl's Sunday apron, to let the
crape-winged moths drink their sweetness. Migrant birds were already
speeding above her, to fly till dawn, and they veered from their course
as they saw her hurrying along beneath them. Wild creatures that had
been sleeping during the day came from their holes to seek food and
timidly watched her hasten past. And all along, out of the tall, brittle
grass, the busy lightning-bugs sprang up with their lanterns to help the
dim stars light the way.

It was dusk on the plains before she