The Young Pioneers of the North-West

The morning was superb—a cloudless Minnesota sky of intensest blue, the air dry, balmy, bracing, delicious, the velvet green of the immense prairie prismatic with glistening dewdrops.

As the fair-browed maiden skipped to the other side of the fort building, and gazed from the window upon the scene, she drank in its wondrous beauty with a wild delight.

The frontier fortress was built on a swell of land remarkable for prairie land. One would think that nature designed it for just such a structure as crowned it with the murderous munitions of war. Strange that in the heart of that vast savanna there should rise a huge mound, or half hill, of height and circumference sufficient to command the entire wide-stretching landscape. Over this flower-enamelled plain, sloping from the fort on every side to the arching horizon, the kindling eye of the young girl wandered with worshipful enthusiasm.

"I shall wait no longer!" she exclaimed, decisively. "Charley has been set to some task, I warrant, and there's no guessing when he'll get through. What's the use of always having a 'boy' escort. As if I cannot take care of myself! There are no Indians about now. I shall go alone for once. Pony is as good company as I wish."

And tripping down stairs, and out into the court, she mounted her miniature steed. There was a clattering of dainty hoofs, and she was flying across the plain.

These early morning rides were Alice McElroy's special pleasure. Horseback exercise on the open prairie had been prescribed by the fort physician on account of the delicacy of her constitution, and the cough, which though slight and inconstant, gave him, of late, some concern.

But never before had she gone without an attendant. And as Mrs. Jones discharged the duties of governess to the McElroy children, Alice and Willie, and she knew her own son Charley to be brave, manly, and discreet beyond his years, he was often detailed to accompany Alice.

As we have seen, Alice expected Charley to attend her on this occasion. But as he did not promptly make his appearance, glad to assert her independence, she ventured without him.

The truth is, Alice, although affectionate and noble, was towards Charley petulant and innocently imperious at times. What queer creatures girls are, indeed! Mr. Jones, with his family, occupied a log cabin near Spirit Lake at the time of the fearful Indian uprising, and Charley distinguished himself there by his romantic adventures and heroic conduct—a mere lad that he was. He was, therefore, petted by the soldiers, and fairly doted on by Alice's mother and General McElroy, commander of the forces at the Fort.

Alice also liked him as a playmate, and admired his fine qualities. But to have a "boy" for guide and protector on her prairie expeditions, and she a young lady in her teens, "what an idea!"

With an exuberant sense of freedom from restraint, and of superiority to juvenile guardianship, Alice dashed along, now putting pony to a round trot, now to a full gallop, then resting the reins on his glossy neck, permitting him to take his own way—just as she was doing with so much comfort to herself.

Between pony and rider there was perfect sympathy. An intelligence and devotion almost human characterized the wee horse. It was a rare animal,—a thorough-bred specimen of a species once famous but now nearly or quite extinct in this country,—for which the general paid a fabulous sum, presenting him as a birthday gift to his only daughter for her sole use.

Never was beast better loved and treated. Winding her white arms around his curved neck, she would talk to him as if he understood each word. And are we certain he did not? You could not make Alice think him so stupid. She fed him with dainties from the table, and plucked for his mouth the sweetest grass-tufts. And her voice, her step, her hand were "all the world" to him.

How pony drooped with failing appetite when for three weary weeks his gentle little mistress lay sick! When, convalescing, she was supported to the window, it was affecting to watch him as he waited beneath the sill for the feeble word of recognition from her pallid lips. And when she first stepped out of doors, pony rushed frantically to her side, and would not be pacified, despite the outcries and protestations of the frightened nurse, until she repeated his name and caressingly laid her soft hand on his forehead.

Pony took short steps, but nimble, and got over the ground much faster than some longer limbed coursers I have seen. He liked so to go—no working one's passage, whip or spur-wise, with him.

Doubtless high feeding and light work has much to do with the muscular thrill of speed experienced by the well-handled and mettlesome steed. But the loved form on pony's back, so graceful and unburdensome, full of glee, praised and patted him, and encouraged his best efforts. And away, away he sped, the fairy rider's eyes sparkling and cheeks abloom, and wavy silken tresses floating on the breeze, as they skimmed along, unmindful alike of distance and of time.