Part 4

Little they suspected that the echo of the thrilling tenderness in their voices as they chanted this low refrain, growing fainter and fainter as they disappeared down the hill, was stirring an impulse in her thumping heart, which when mature, would work out into so wise and cunning a scheme as to render their deliberate, well-planned human precautions as naught.

Down deep beneath the apparently indifferent nature of every animal quivers an intense human love of home that glows with a steady flame as long as life lasts. It is God's own gift to the animals and in the heart of this little exile it was a passion that had grown into an intense determination for that one bit of earth from which she had been torn, and the only place in all the world that seemed good to her. This divine longing for her old quarters was a vibrant thrill, thumping, thumping continually, like a trip-hammer in her homesick breast, and already daring the best and bravest in her nature to dangers appalling to a much bigger and bolder beastie. There was no outcry and no appeal for help in the desolate hours she must have spent in meditating on the venturesome risk of this dumb challenge, but deep down in that undiscovered country of the cat's outraged loyalty, there must have been something powerfully impelling to have given her the daring to undertake so desperate and venturesome a deed.

In the velvet dusk of a night, not long afterward, a solitary figure, lean, black, and small, might have been seen, trotting at a steady pace with a purposeful air that surely meant business, carefully picking her way among the weeds and undergrowth and making straight for the cottonwoods and willows that grew along the bank of the river. The determined form was steady of nerve, carrying her head high, and in her mouth a limp, nerveless black bundle of fur. When she reached the brink of the swift-flowing, trackless water, there was a quivering pause, as if she were perhaps weighing the chances of life and death; but only for an instant, for immediately there was a plunk and she sank right down into the whirl of the dreadful blackness and then--silence.

Holding her burden high in her mouth, safe and dry, she soon dragged her wet and heavy body up the bank on the opposite shore, and obeying the sure instinct of her useful little nose set her face right for the old place in the kitchen cabin which was the cherished spot of her determined desire. She placed this smallest and least pretty of her brood in the old nest that had been so rudely despoiled, but without waiting to comfort or even to warm the wee mite, turned her face resolutely toward the return journey. There was no time to stop, as ten times more she must fight the good fight and battle with the cold and danger of the awful and tedious transit.

The gray dawn was just breaking by the time the intrepid little mother, utterly exhausted, lay beside her six babies in her old homey bed, a mute reproach to the caprice or hasty anger that had made this cruel test necessary. The six sources of all her trouble were tugging hungrily at her breasts, looking as innocent and harmless as downy puffs, having already been licked and groomed into tidiness by their forgiving mother.

The housekeeper's gasp of astonishment changed into a cry of disbelief when she came into the cabin and found the family so snugly settled in their old quarters. Surely "the boys" had deceived her in regard to having taken the cat across the river, or how could this marvel be? The round, fixed and troubled eyes of the cat looked questioningly and bravely up into her enemy's startled face while her fate hung in the balance, with a courage that feared but did not flinch, and there could be no mistaking their half-defiant plea this time. It would, indeed, have been a heart of steel not to have been moved by the pity of it, as the frail bit of motherhood looked from the coldly inquiring eyes bending above her, to the collection at her breasts, with a tenderness and pride that would have shamed a human mother. Evidently the milk of human kindness had not all dried up in the rough woman's motherly breast in rubbing all these years against the sharp edges of Western ranch life and she was at last touched in a vulnerable spot, for the flush of anger faded from her irate face, and the hand so threateningly raised fell in a half-gentle pat on the small mother so bravely awaiting her decision.

Afterward when the full significance of what she had seen there had filtered to her understanding and she knew the story of the cat's valiant struggle with death and the marvelous feat of her perilous journey just to "be home" and with those she had "loved and lost a while," herself among the rest, her face softened and the first real smile she had shown for years beamed on her face, chasing the old hardened lines to the jumping-off point. Even the hearts of these big bluff cowmen quailed in contemplating the Spartan nerve this helpless young mother had shown in making that piteous journey, back and forth in the lonely silence of the black night, mindful of each and every one of those precious babies. This was just a plain, common everyday cat, but one with an extraordinary calm determination and a stout heart overflowing with two sacred and human attributes, mother-love and home-love. She had paid the price, fearlessly and pluckily, to ease these human aches in her breast, a price the agony of which perhaps we have no way of measuring, but one from which we know she would have shrunk in horror under ordinary circumstances.

This small animal of no pretensions whatever, manoeuvered and fought her successful battle alone, daring even to challenge a bitter enemy, and gained not only the home that she had insisted upon keeping, but in the end, by a strange caprice of fortune, the far greater and unexpected compensation of finding a warm soft spot in a heart supposed to be invulnerable.

It was not necessary, when the men came in to breakfast, for each to deny any conspiracy in the cat's home-coming. Wet, weary and cold, the cat told her own story. That their astonishment was genuine, no one could doubt, for they were struck dumb as they stared blankly at the "monster," though their beaming faces could not hide the cheery welcome they gave her in spite of being unable to utter it. They were evidently "plumb locoed" for even the boldest and most reckless of them, knowing what the mother must have been through, could not look unmoved on this miracle of miracles--not one kitling missing of the many, and each one meaning a trip across the dark, swirling current. Emitting sonorous and somewhat profane ejaculations, but decidedly to the point, they "sort'a" laughed and shrugged their shoulders, evidently unable to find any language polite enough to express their sentiments on the subject and perhaps it dimly occurred to them that it might be better not to express them anyway. But these rough diamonds were always sure to come out strongest under hardest conditions, so one of them, in quick kindliness, to relieve the rather awkward strain of the situation, "made good" by exclaiming with shame-faced tenderness: "The trouble with cats is, y'u can't never tell what they know and what they don't, nor what darned foolish audasus ideas they got tucked away in their measly carcasses."

There was no use arguing with the warlike "missus," although they surely felt there was argument "a plenty" on their side and chafed at the mandates of their more polite diplomacy, but swallowed their wrath in silent indignation, as being the better part of valor, too happy in the strange turn of affairs to parley over it. As Larry said, "There ain't no depending on females," and surprises await you at every turn. However, a woman is never so humble as when proven biased in judgment or instinct, and whatever their former differences may have been, the hour of surrender on this woman's part showed that deep down inside she was made of the proper stuff, and that it was not hardness of heart but the hardness of her life that had given her this rough exterior. This strange tenderness that pity had been able to awaken in the woman's heart had been dormant all these lonely years and was probably not intended for a cat at all, but for something dearer and sweeter; still, in lieu of its natural vent, it was decreed it should be lavished on this nice little comfortable substitute. Thus one tiny flash of love-light transformed completely her disagreeable bearing and declared for an everlasting friendship between the large woman of the large ranch and the small cat. Apparently there was some secret understanding between them, for it was a turning point and the beginning of a new era in the life of each. Hereafter the earth and the fulness thereof seemed to be the cat's. However the victory she had won sat very modestly on the unpresuming diplomat who humbly took up her duties just where she had left them off, and in spare moments tried to show her gladness in being safe at home and in good fellowship, by opening and shutting her small claws ecstatically and purring like a small drum.

There was no public display on the woman's part of this wonderful burst of tenderness in her heart, for she would have been ashamed to show how good it felt to be human, but the lesson had "took" and evidently "took hard," for it bore fruit in a wonderful moderation in her tyrannous rule and even a redemption of her looks. The old woebegone lines in her face, which her own hardness had traced there, fast disappeared, and she was transformed into a living woman, one who felt good and warm inside and showed it in her attitude toward all. After all, love is the only miracle, and hearts are the same the world over, and perhaps it was God's timely economy that only a poor little waif of a homesick cat should have lived and suffered just to be the angel to make the whole world new for this bitter woman-heart. In graciously showing this entirely unexpected softness, and a new-born protecting interest in the cat, the woman brought to herself the love of many, and basking in its radiance was like being raised from the dead, opening up as it did a better understanding with all in a sort of friendly comradeship. Her manner toward the "little black mascot," as the cat was now called, was at all times sociable and intimate, although to have let her or the family forget for one moment that discipline was her prerogative, would have been to betray the pose of her service of years among them.

On the morning of the cat's return she merely squared matters with her own conscience by taking her medicine in so far as to confess her miserable blunder by throwing out her hands in a sort of helpless gesture and bravely assuming the role of Destiny by issuing a final mandate: "She's had enough, and she's going to stay right here." Then she shut her lips ominously tight together as if ignoring the possibility of any further discussion on the subject, which hint was gladly heeded by these alert young men who were surely "onto their job." Larry said, there was even no "back talk" and no "crowing, merely a little snicker," but even that not too noticeable, as they gazed at each other in helpless, bashful awkwardness, waiting for someone to be bold and brave enough to "get busy" so that they could all "get out o' sight." At last, one care-free, happy young lad, with a little meaning twinkle in his blue eyes, absolutely unable to restrain his hilarious approval any longer, impulsively laid his hand on the widow's very generously upholstered shoulder in passing, and said confidentially in a hoarse whisper:

"Thems the kind of sentiments, and y'u're sure some lady! And she's a great small cat and will sing y'u to sleep o' nights."

A joyful grin spread over the whole bunch as they rather sheepishly made their way to the door and bolted outside, heaving great sighs of relief as they struck the freedom of the outer air.

"And the best of it all," explained Larry, smiling broadly; "h'it's all true, cross my heart if it tain't, and the lady took her medicine good and proper and landed kerchunk on her feet all right."

And throwing me a brief half-nod of youthful friendliness he was off.

THURSDAY

A girl, a hammock, a book and a day in June: a happy combination for memories, idleness and half-sadness, with no end of interesting possibilities that might come to one who loves and responds to the allurement.

It was one of those hot early June days in a California valley when all nature seems held in quiet suspense. The wonderful and unusual stillness brooding over this little sunny spot in the world, at last arrested the girl's attention as she lazily swung in the hammock under a group of giant oaks, and she let her book fall to the ground in unconscious neglect. Suddenly her ear caught a feeble wail borne on the quiet air, a sound that held her breathless, with a little sobbing catch in her throat. It was too indistinct to have attracted attention save for nature's sympathetic hush, and scarcely seemed separated from the throbbing silence all about her; yet, responsive and expectant she held her breath to listen to the secret it might unfold. The faint cry was insistent and at last revealed itself to her unmistakably as the tiny mew of a tiny kitten. When convinced of this she was roused to alertness in an instant for she had a special predilection for baby cats, the smaller the better. The pathetic little cry for help seemed to grow weaker and fainter as she blindly followed the sound, which finally led her to the loft of the stable. Even then, although she realized that she was "warm on the scent," she could not locate the exact spot this weak little mew came from. But presently she felt sure that it must come from the depths of a huge packing case, half-filled with books, which was stored in a far corner. The box being almost her own height, she could by no possibility lean over sufficiently for her eyes to pierce its dusky depths. Hastily getting a bench for a perch and a lighted candle to set at a knot hole half-way down the side of the box, she discovered its dark secret to be a small bit of coal black glossy fur, without much form or shape, lying flat as a pancake on one of the cold hard books; the tiniest mite of a live cat she had ever seen.

As she lifted the little limp, cold bunch to her warm hand, it ceased to mew and, she thought, to breathe, but she carried it to the house and found it alive and able to take a little warm milk from a spoon. With repeated doses of this nourishment at regular intervals the baby began to revive and at bedtime was quite a normal kitten, except that its frame was so unusually small and meager.

Thinking that the mother-cat would surely return at night to the place where she had left her one wee infant, the girl returned this "special edition" to the books in the packing case, making it as warm and comfy as possible. In the morning her first waking thoughts flew to her tiny protégée and on going to the box she found the poor little thing just as she had left it the night before--no mother, and evidently abandoned. This time, on carrying it to the house she made it a permanent abiding place and continued to feed it with a spoon, as it seemed to grasp with readiness the idea of getting its food in this fashion and after a few lessons, took very kindly to it.

The mystery of how this little orphan came to be in the case of books, alone and deserted, was never satisfactorily solved, although on inquiry the girl was told that a neighbor had found a black mother-cat dead in her laundry about the time of the discovery of the little kitten. It was thought that this must have been the mother of the little waif and that she had doubtless met with an untimely death.

At any rate, no mother ever appeared to claim the baby, so she was adopted and given the name of Thursday, that being the day of her advent. She was so wee that until she was able to help herself to a grown-up cat's food, she was always fed from a spoon, and soon grew to look upon this useful article as the source of all motherly comfort, and to take milk from it as the chief object in living. In all her after life, the sight of a spoon seemed to give her a thrill and it was always very funny to watch her keenness in discovering anyone at the table using this, her foster-mother, which she, very naturally, regarded as her own special property. This ridiculously small defender of her propriety rights would make her resentment of this trespass on her claim manifest in various cunning ways. Often she would watch with impatient, glaring eyes, from her vantage ground, the floor, each and every spoonful, as it passed from plate to mouth, hoping in time to stare this particular offender out of countenance. But if her jealous, concentrated round eyes failed to attract the desired attention, when longer forbearance became impossible, she would jump to the lap of the transgressor, thrusting her little pink nose into the hand that had so basely ignored her indignation, and intercept the spoon with a dainty paw and a comical air of haughty rebuke, as if saying: "Little Thursday's! Have you forgotten?"

This impertinence, which the affront had been designedly coaxing forth, never failed to bring her a very substantial reward, and certainly no reproof. And so the baby was spoiled and encouraged in her wilful little ways which were considered the "cutest ever." There was never a time in all her life when she would not willingly leave affairs ordinarily attractive to cats, to come and sit serenely on some lap, with a bib about her neck, a sweet smile of peace on her face, to be fed with a spoon. She never reached the full stature of an ordinary cat, but grew into a wondrously beautiful little beastie and developed the most independent, self-contained, evasive personality imaginable, for a cat. Looking no more than half-grown she was the very perfection of dainty symmetry, her coat a solid glossy black, almost blue in its depths. She was remarkably quick in her graceful motions, even for a cat, and had the dearest little round blue eyes, just scintillating with mischief and flaming with an inordinate love of fun which radiated to the tip of her inquisitive little nose and from there to the quivering end of her wicked, ecstatic tail. She also possessed such queer twists in a highly strung and very nervous temperament, that her erratic moods were variable and often startling surprises. But she was always singularly human and steadfast in one feminine quality and that was in liking to do just as she pleased. One of her "queer twists" was, at various intervals, to have sudden spasms of hilarious gaiety and to give vent to these frantic spells in play that were the times of her life. She never had any company in these grand romps, but was strangely independent and wildly happy, the imp of play which had possession, seeming to have endless sources of its own in the way of society and amusement. She would race "sideways" through the house, her "baby blue eyes" black as coal, turn double "upside downs," and play a kind of hide-and-seek all by herself, plainly just play for play's sake until her frolic, which sometimes rose to a frenzy, had exhausted her crazy mood.

Among our precious lares and penates, was a magnificent Irish setter, a handsome fellow with a coat of wavy golden red hair and eyes of such beseeching softness that he won all mankind. Until the advent of Thursday he had been sole proprietor and sovereign owner of the sunny back porch and playground, not to mention the hearts he ruled. But with the coming of the little black lady all his previous rights were changed, she, with nonchalant impudence, taking cool and unchallenged possession of all, including the king himself, who seemed one of her most willing subjects. She quickly learned and presumed on her power over him but with heroic patience this handsome fellow yielded glad obedience and was ever ready to bend before her small feminine coquetry, his gallantry seeming boundless. Like a knight of old, he was always rushing to her rescue and ever espousing her cause, using his strength generously at all times in her behalf. If she happened to cry within her privileged precincts of the house, screened from his entrance, if he was anywhere on the grounds within sound of her call, he would instantly come to her succor, peering through the screen with such an anxious, troubled expression in his dear goldy-brown eyes, his head turned first on one side and then on the other, a way setters have when trying to fathom mysteries. Having satisfied himself that she was in no serious trouble or in need of his gallant protectorship, he would lift his appealing brown eyes to us with an air of unutterable reproach for his unnecessary disturbance, and drop to the floor with a huge sigh, perhaps to try again for a few quiet winks. Life with him was no longer dull or lacking in color after Thursday became a member of our household, but was full of rich and varied interests for every waking hour, which were many more than formerly, as it was only under the greatest difficulties that he could get even half of his accustomed hours of greedy sleep through the interrupted days. Of old, his choice of pleasant places of repose had been the shady back porch, where he would stretch himself at full length, his velvety ears lying broad and flat, and he still indulged himself in this chosen spot, although under difficulties. For Thursday had soon learned that to snuggle close to his curly coat meant warmth and comfort, but not for the dog, for it teased and worried his naps dreadfully to have her cuddle so close. However as he seemed loathe to surrender this adopted spot, his by "right of domain," he was most gentlemanly and patient, never even saying "bow." When sleepy time came the kitten would boldly hunt his resting place and nestle under the softness of his downy ear for her siesta. Feigning sleep, his nose between his paws and one eye half-open, the dog would bide the time when she was fast asleep and then, most cautiously and carefully, draw himself away in order to have his ear to himself. Little Lonesome, feeling the want of her comfortable covering, would sleepily creep under his ear again and the setter would again, with touching resignation, watch his chance and get away. This exchange of courtesies would go on until the dog evidently realized that he might as well give up and let the little wilful torment have her way. Or there might be times when he would get his lazy self up and off, but even this manoeuvre might be only temporary relief, if the kitten still longed for his companionship. Never once was the dog known to growl or fail in politeness, even when the kitten trespassed on his hospitality to the extent of selecting such dainty bits from his dinner plate as pleased her fancy. At such times he would stand by, big and stern, wistfully watching the choice pieces disappear, and patiently wait until she had finished her selection and was seated on her haunches near by, washing her little black face, before he would presume to take that which, in her gracious indulgence, she had left for him. In this elaborate ceremony of her toilet, she would sometimes pause, and with a kind of pensive wondering, gaze at her now greedy host. In this attitude, with one tiny paw raised meditatively, and her mouth half-open showing a bit of pink tongue between her gleaming teeth, she looked as if actually smiling in supreme affability on an attendant chamberlain. At all times, the attitude of affected condescension assumed by this mite of a kitten toward her big gentlemanly comrade, was so absurd as to be very funny.

As She Never Attained the Full Stature of an Ordinary Cat, She Always Looked But Half Grown But Was the Very Perfection of Dainty Symmetry, Her Coat a Solid Black, Almost Blue in its Depths]

And so the summer and fall months passed and the dog and kitten grew in friendship and intimacy and were an endless source of interest to the family. Unfortunately for these pets, the country home was soon to be broken up and closed for the winter. Thursday's devoted friend and protector, the setter, was sent to the hunting lodge, and a home was provided for the kitten with a friend who lived only a couple of miles away.

The girl cherished this little darling kitten which she had rescued, devotedly, and was very sad at the necessary parting, but never dreamed for a moment but that she would be the only one to experience any regret. She thought, of course, that the heart of her apparently frivolous little pet would readily accept the new conditions without a homesick thought, as it meant the same kindness, food and shelter to which she had been accustomed, and to leave her alone at the country house was out of the question, as it would be to risk letting her perish with cold and hunger. So the kitten was carried to the home of the friend and left, with a big heartache but, as the girl thought, only on her part.