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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"Riders of the Purple Sage"

But he owed it
to Bess to make the attempt, and in case they were compelled to
turn back he wanted to find that fine store of food and grain
intact. The outfit of implements and utensils he packed away in
another cave.
"Bess, we have enough to live here all our lives," he said once,
dreamily.
"Shall I go roll Balancing Rock?" she asked, in light speech, but
with deep-blue fire in her eyes.
"No--no."
"Ah, you don't forget the gold and the world," she sighed.
"Child, you forget the beautiful dresses and the travel--and
everything."
"Oh, I want to go. But I want to stay!"
"I feel the same way."
They let the eight calves out of the corral, and kept only two of
the burros Venters had brought from Cottonwoods. These they
intended to ride. Bess freed all her pets--the quail and rabbits
and foxes.
The last sunset and twilight and night were both the sweetest and
saddest they had ever spent in Surprise Valley. Morning brought
keen exhilaration and excitement. When Venters had saddled the
two burros, strapped on the light packs and the two canteens, the
sunlight was dispersing the lazy shadows from the valley. Taking
a last look at the caves and the silver spruces, Venters and Bess
made a reluctant start, leading the burros. Ring and Whitie
looked keen and knowing. Something seemed to drag at Venters's
feet and he noticed Bess lagged behind.


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