Dorothy on a Ranch

But at the sound of the approaching “squad” Lady Gray turned an eager face and called out, reprovingly:

“Oh! my dears, how slow you have been! If I were your age and had been promised a horse for my very own, I shouldn’t have tarried on the way!”

“Our very own? What do you mean, dear Mrs. Ford?” asked Dorothy, hastening to bid her tardy “Good morning,” before she more than glanced across the fence.

“Just what I say, dear. Mr. Ford has had eight horses brought in for you young folks to use. Each is to make a choice for herself or himself, subject to change if any necessity for it. Your choice is to be your own property and I hope will give you lots of pleasure. Captain Lem and some of the other good horsemen will teach you anything you need to know. Why, my dears! How astonished you look! Didn’t you understand? Didn’t Leslie tell you?”

For, indeed, surprise had kept them silent. None had guessed of having a horse of her “own,” supposing from Leslie’s words that they were only to have the loan of an animal during their stay at San Leon. Alfaretta broke the silence, explaining:

“No, he didn’t say any such thing. He said we was to come choose horses to ride, and when he said one was white I picked that out at once. I – can’t really believe you mean it, Mrs. Ford, though – course – Ma Babcock – I never heard o’ such folks – never – never – in my life. It certainly does beat the Dutch. I – Alfy Babcock – Dolly Doodles – Jolly Molly – Helena – to have horses of our own – it makes me cry! I, Alfy Babcock, ownin’ a whole horse! Oh! My!”

“Then I shall be very, very sorry the idea ever entered my husband’s mind, of making such a gift. We don’t want tears – we just want happiness, perfect happiness, up here at San Leon!” said beautiful Gray Lady, smiling, and looking fairer than ever in this new delight of making gifts, as freely as she wished. Her own life had grown so much happier, these last months, that she longed only to “pass on” happiness to all whom she knew. Alfy’s tears really hurt her, for a moment, till Dolly explained, with an arm about the weeper’s waist:

“I reckon these must be what I’ve heard of as ‘happy tears,’ dear Lady Gray. Alfy is too pleased to do anything else – even to say ‘thank you’ – yet.”

Queer little Alfy had dropped her head on Dorothy’s shoulder and was repeating in a low tone:

“A whole horse of my own! Mine, Alfy Babcock’s! A whole horse – a whole – livin’ – horse – A – whole – horse!”

“Well, you wouldn’t want a half one, would you, Miss Babcock? Nor one that wasn’t living?” demanded Monty, laughing. “Quit crying and let’s choose, for that’s what Leslie said we were to do. Is that correct, Mr. Ford?”

“Entirely. But – see to it that your choice falls each on a different animal! Suppose you begin, alphabetically. Alfaretta first.”

Such a group of radiant faces as now peered over the paling! while without a second’s hesitation, Alfaretta announced:

“I choose that pure white one for mine!”

“All right. Captain Lem, lead out Blanca and put on her side saddle,” directed Mr. Ford.

A passage was opened in the paling and the beautiful Blanca was led forth, amid a murmur of admiration from everybody, except the girl herself. She could only stand, clasping and unclasping her hands, and gazing with dim eyes at this wonderful possession. The handsome saddle cloth was marked Blanca, and Mr. Ford explained that each animal was registered and its name had been chosen by its breeder. Most of these names were Spanish and suited well; as that Blanca meant “white,” which the gentle little mare certainly was. To another corner of the saddle cloth, Captain Lem slowly attached the initial “A,” as mark of ownership, then beckoned to Alfy that she should mount.

All her mates watched her curiously, expecting to see her timid and reluctant. She treated them to a fine surprise; first by running to Lady Gray and rapturously kissing her hand, then returning to Lemuel, and letting him swing her up to the saddle, without an instant’s hesitation. Dorothy stared, amazed; but she needn’t have done so: Alfy was “her mother’s daughter” as the saying goes, and inherited that good woman’s love of horseflesh and fearlessness; and as she settled herself and received the bridle reins she kept murmuring the marvellous fact:

“A whole horse – mine! And Ma Babcock’s only got Barnaby!”

“Who is ‘Barnaby,’ Alfy?” asked Leslie, going round to her side and critically inspecting her treasure.

“Oh – he – Why, he’s a mule!”

A shout of laughter greeted this announcement and Lemuel moved away. He was disappointed that the beautiful Blanca had not fallen to Dorothy’s share, for he believed the white filly to be the best as well as the handsomest creature in the corral. However, her turn was next, and he listened anxiously to hear what it might be. He wished she wouldn’t be so over-generous in offering the choice to her mates, and in saying that if she disappointed them she wanted to change.

“All are so fine. It can’t make a bit of difference to me.”

“Choose! Choose! You dear old slow-poke, for I’m just dying to do so, too. I can’t wait – do choose!” cried impatient Molly, skipping about and trying to cut short Dorothy’s hesitation.

“All right, then. I choose the ‘calico’. She’s so like another Portia that I used to ride ‘back home.’”

“Zaraza, for Dolly. A Spanish title, too, dear, and means ‘chintz’ – a ‘calico’, if you please. Lead her out, Lem!”

The pretty creature was brought out, arching her graceful neck and lifting her dainty hoofs as if she were dancing to music, as she was now to the clapping of hands and lusty cheers of healthy young throats. Then she was saddled, a decorative “D” attached to her saddle-cloth, Dorothy put upon her back, to take her stand beside Alfaretta on Blanca, while the others chose and were mounted.

“It has been a real ceremony and a delightful one! Here’s to the health and happiness of our young equestrians! Hip, hip, hurra!” cried the master of the ranch, with a boyish heartiness that sent the hats of the ranchmen from their heads and their voices echoing the gay “Hip, hip, hurra!”

But, despite her happiness, Dorothy’s face was thoughtful. There had been eight horses in the corral, as there had been, at first, eight young guests at San Leon. To Helena had been allotted a fine bay, big and powerful as well as comely, by name Benito; to Herbert a black, chosen by him for its resemblance to his own “Bucephalus,” “back home” where Portia was, and from a sentiment similar to Dolly’s. Then Lady Gray was asked to choose for the absent James Barlow, and did so as calmly as if he had but stepped around the corner and had deputed her to act for him.

But it was noticeable that of all the splendid thoroughbreds within the paddock one was by far the finest. That was a dappled gray, perfect in every, point, and looking as if he were king of that four-footed company.

“For Jim, I choose Azul, the Gray! You all know I love gray in color and I love the ‘blue,’ as his Spanish owners named him. Captain Lemuel, please saddle Azul for Jim Barlow, and, Daniel, will you use him, please, till Jim comes back?”

Dorothy flashed a grateful look upon her hostess, then glanced at Alfaretta, sure of finding sympathy in that girl’s honest eyes. But Alfy nodded, well pleased, and Mr. Ford rode to the head of the little cavalcade and took his place at Dorothy’s side, while the others followed, two by two, to make a circuit of the grounds and test their mounts.

The men cheered again and again as the procession started, Mr. Ford and Dorothy leading; then Leslie on the sorrel, Cæsar, with Alfy on Blanca; Helena on Benito, with Monty on the chestnut, Juan – a mount well suited to his stature and requirements. Last rode Molly on Juana, another chestnut, and a perfect match for her brother – Monty’s Juan; while Herbert’s Blackamoor finished the caravan, last but by no means least in the creature’s own proud estimation.

They paced and they cantered, they trotted and they galloped, even the most inexperienced without fear, because of the vigilant attendants who raced beside them, as well as the high spirits of the others. Around and around the spacious grounds they rode, Captain Lem pointing out several fences and hedges he would have them leap, later on, and finally bringing up before the stately front of the house to dismount.

As they did so Dorothy noticed a queerly dressed little boy sitting beside the fountain holding a basket in his hand and eagerly watching the cavalcade. Nobody else seemed to observe him, amid all the clatter and laughter. He looked to the sympathetic girl as if he were very tired and, leaving the rest, she crossed to him and asked:

“Who are you, little boy? Do you want something?”

Instantly, he offered her the basket, and as instantly vanished.

CHAPTER X

AN UNEXPECTED DEPARTURE

Dorothy looked after the fleeing little figure as it disappeared behind a clump of shrubbery in the direction of the laundry.

“A child of one of the workmen, I suppose, but such an odd, quaint looking child,” she thought, and rejoined her mates. They were still standing beside the cloistered walk, talking, planning the wonderful trips which would be open to them now that they owned horses; comparing notes upon the points of each that they fancied they had already learned, while Mr. Ford declared:

“This really is the most wonderful affair! Not that you have the horses, but that you show no jealousy about them. So far as I can see each of you is perfectly satisfied with his own choice and sure it was the wisest. I only hope our good James Barlow will like his Azul as well. Heigho, Dolly Doodles! What a quaint little basket! An Indian one and fine. Where did you get that?”

“A little boy gave it to me. I suppose it is for Lady Gray, and here she comes.”

The lady had walked across from the Barracks, slowly, sauntering over the beautiful grounds, so fully in accord with them and the glorious day that she was humming an aria from pure lightness of heart. She had not forgotten the missing lad for whom she had chosen the best horse in the herd, but it did not seem now that anything could be really amiss. He would surely soon be back, safe and well, and oh! how good life was! How dear the world, and how gracious that tender Providence which had crowned her life with joy! In this mood she came up to the group awaiting her and Dorothy put the basket into her hands.

She hadn’t expected anything of weight and nearly dropped it.

“Why, dearie, what an exquisite basket! But how heavy it is! What – here – why? See how oddly it’s fastened with rushes or something like them. I’ll sit right here while one of you open it.”

She seated herself upon a carved bench beside a sun-dial and Leslie cut the rushes which were bound tightly about the basket. As he did so a plaintive little wail issued from it, and Lady Gray and he both jumped.

“A baby! A foundling!” laughed Mr. Ford, pretending to be greatly frightened.

“Open it, open it quick, please! I can’t wait!” cried Molly.

At the slightest touch now the lid fell off and there, lying on a mat of softest grass, was a tiny, new-born lamb. Ohs! and Ahs! and laughter greeted it, to which the small creature answered by another feeble “Ma-a-a!” then curled itself to sleep.

“What a pretty present! Who could have sent it?” wondered Lady Gray.