From the mention she had made back there at
Dyersville of men who could fight, using pistol or knife, she apparently
was accustomed to men who carried and used weapons; but, thought I, I
had never owned, much less carried, any weapons except my two hard
fists. Queer enough to say I never thought of the strangeness of a boy's
making his way into a new land with a strange girl suddenly thrown on
his hands as a new and precious piece of baggage to be secreted,
smuggled, cared for and defended.
CHAPTER IX
THE GROVE OF DESTINY
When I had got up in the morning and rounded up my cows I started a fire
and began whistling. I was not in the habit of whistling much; but I
wanted her to wake up and dress so I could get the makings of the
breakfast out of the wagon. After I had the fire going and had whistled
all the tunes I knew--_Lorena, The Gipsy's Warning, I'd Offer Thee This
Hand of Mine,_ and _Joe Bowers_, I tapped on the side of the wagon, and
said "Virginia!"
She gave a scream, and almost at once I heard her voice calling in
terror from the back of the wagon; and on running around to the place I
found that she had stuck her head out of the opening of the wagon cover
and was calling for help and protection.
"Don't be afraid," said I. "There's nobody here but me."
"Somebody called me 'Virginia,'" she cried, her face pale and her whole
form trembling. "Nobody but that man in all this country would call
me that."
She hardly ever called Gowdy by any other name but "that man," so far as
I have heard.
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