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8
The Campers In Stone Valley.
(Continued from Page 5.)
as if they had fed all day in meadows up to their
knees in grass, and when they earns to the river,
they gazed about them at the landscape and scorned
to drink.
This strange thing happened day after day, and
the lean, staggering old horses began to look sleek
and fat; but where they fed or where they drank the
settler could not imagine, for he knew that country,
in all its drought and barrenness, for miles and days
of travel.
One morning he rose still earlier and followed the
horses, but they seemed to resent his spying, and
they led him a long chase through the sage, that
took them nowhere; so he concluded to hire a spy
who was not known to these clever truants. He
promised money to a little lad, who lived in the near
est cabin, which was far on a lonesome trail toward
the hills, if he would track the horses to the place
where they secretly fed and drank.
The horses, suspecting nothing, trotted past the
cabin where the boy was watching for them. He
slipped out amongst the sage, and as he could run
like a quail he managed to keep them in sight. The
horses seemed in no doubt where they were going,
and he traveled on their track for miles. The sage
grew bigger and wilder, and more like trees of a
dw’arfish forest. The land rose to a bench, or mesa,
with a front of steep black rocks. The horses went
up into a place of shadow where the rocks appeared
to open, and passed out of sight. The boy went up
the same way, and found that the rocks retired in a
circle which nearly closed about a cup-shaped valley;
and in the midst was a pool of water, and all around
were grass and trees. The horses were drinking at
the pool, and when they had done they lay down and
rolled on the rich, dark turf, and then they fell to
eating. They took no notice of the boy. He explored
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The tolden Age for September 29, ISlt.
the little valley, with its walls of rock, and discovered
the source of the water. It gushed, like a fountain,
out of a cave’s mouth close- to the ground, and the
noise of its singing and gushing filled the echoing
hollow with a sound as of spring in the hill-countries.
The pool was very deep. The boy could not hear a
stone touch bottom, though he threw many in to try
the depth by the sound.
The poor settler made the boy his partner, in all
profit that might come of his discovery; and they
kept it a secret between them. The settler sold his
horses, that were now become sleek and handsome,
in the town for carriage horses, and bought others
as poor as those had been, for a few dollars the
head; and when these had fed and drank at the pool
by the cave, they, too, became fresh and handsome,
and were sold at five times their cost. And the man
and the boy became rich, and many poor half-starved
horses were made happy, besides, and sold to kind
masters who could afford to care for them and feed
them in the winter —not send them forth to starve
upon the range.
Mrs. Croly asked Hetty to tell this story to her
father that evening on the veranda; but the second
time she did not tell it so well, for now she had
grown-up listeners, and was embarrassed by their
attention to her words.
When her fathei’ and mother looked at each other
and smiled, she thought they were laughing at her,
and the story no longer seemed true, as it had, when
it first came to her that morning between sleeping
and waking.
“So Natty knows of a cave where there is water,
does he?” her father questioned, when the tale was
finished.
“No, Father. He only knows of a cave where there
is a sound like water.”
“Where is it, did he say?”
“It isn’t far from here. If Mother would only let
me,”— Hetty cawt upon her mother a hppelefts glance
of entreaty—“ Natty says I eould ride there behind
him easy, and back, in one afternoon. He used to
walk there when his father’s teams were working on
the ditch.”
“Natty shall take us both there,” said Mr. Croly.
I’d like to hear that sound myself.”
(Continued Next Week.)
H I?
A "Beautiful Baltimore Wedding.
(Continued from Page 1.)
and Fuller Memorial Church in particular. He is
simply doing things, by the help of the Lord, and
has one of the very livest churches in that great city.
They love each other around at Fuller Memorial. It
is beautiful to see how they linger around the church
after services and make strangers and each other
feel at home. That spirit, added to a pulpit of posi
tive preaching like they have from Jackson always
gives a church power in a city.
Named for one of the greatest pulpit orators Amer
ica ever saw, Fuller Memorial in Baltimore is living
the kind of conquering life that would make glad the
heart of Richard Fuller if he could see its winning
activity.
One of the treasured assets among my Baltimore
memories is the way Cook and Jackson fit into each
other’s plans. If Jackson brings a man from Georgia
or Kamschatska, Cook and his royal people rejoice
to help make his coming a success, and if Cook in
vites a speaker from Princeton or Calcutta, Jackson
and his loyal Fuller Memorial lay themselves out to
make Cook and his Presbyterian visitor feel that life
is worth living in Baltimore.
Like the preacher, when told he must indorse the
check, I write on the back of this Cook and Jackson
marriage certificate: I heartily indorse this Balti
more wedding.
