Polly gathered some of the fallen nuts 

 and ate them, while I ate my dinner of 

 grass. 



We found a place where a smooth 

 trail crossed the gully. This we fol- 

 lowed until it broadened out and was 

 lost in the prairie grass. 



The sky was now a dull slate color, 

 and little feathery flakes of snow were 

 falling. I could see a dark streak in the 

 distance, which I knew must be timber. 

 Instinct taught me that here we should 

 find shelter, and towards this we were 

 hurrying. Little drifts of snow were 

 gathering in Polly's flaxen hair, and her 

 hands were purple from cold. She stum- 

 bled often, sometimes quite falling down, 

 but she would get up and struggle on. 

 The timber still seemed a great way ofif, 

 when Polly stopped. 



"It is no use for me to try, Lopez," 

 she said; *T can't go any further. You 

 will have to go on alone," and she sank 

 down into the snowy grass. 



Now, this was a terrible fix to be in. 

 The storm was growing worse every 

 minute, and I knew that it must be al- 

 most night. I would run around Polly 

 and stamp my feet, then rub my nose 

 against her face, trying to persuade her 

 to get up and go on, but she would only 

 say, "Poor Lopez, I can't go any fur- 

 ther." After awhile she would not no- 

 tice me ; then I knew she was asleep." 



A feeling of despair was coming over 

 me, when I saw two men, riding toward 

 the timber. I ran out, so that I was di- 

 rectly in their path, and stood facing 

 them, stamping my feet. It was evident 

 that they were watching me with some 

 interest, and when they were near me 

 the older of the two exclaimed, "Why, 

 that is Polly Vinson's pet antelope. Rope 

 him, Bob, and we will take him home !" 



The young man loosened a coil of 

 rope from the pommel of his saddle and 

 began to swing a loop above his head ; 

 but before the loop could descend I 

 sprang away and ran to .where Polly 

 was lying, now almost covered with 

 snow. The two men started on, and I 

 ran round and round and stamped my 

 feet. I was almost frantic. 



They stopped again, and the younger 



one came to us. He got off his horse 

 and bent over Polly, then turned and 

 called to his companion, who was now 

 coming toward us: 



"Mr. Dawson, here is little Polly her- 

 self, and I fear she is dead." He lifted 

 Polly up and shook her, rather rough- 

 ly, I thought. "Polly! Polly!" he cried, 

 "wake up and tell me how you came 

 here." 



Polly opened her eyes and sleepily 

 looked at the young man. "Oh, Mr. 

 Bob," she said wearily, "Lopez arid I 

 are lost.. Won't you please take us 

 home?" Then she leaned her head 

 against him and closed her eyes again. 



He quickly pulled off his overcoat and 

 wrapped it around Polly, and handed 

 her up to the older man. Then, tying 

 the end of his rope through my collar 

 he mounted his horse, when we started 

 swiftly toward the timber. To be tied 

 was an indignity that I had never be- 

 fore submitted to, but now I was so 

 glad to have some help with Polly that 

 I made no resistance. 



Very soon were were at the Dawson 

 ranch. Indeed, Polly and I, without 

 knowing it, had been going straight to 

 the ranch, and were not more than 

 a mile away when she gave out and 

 went to sleep in the snow. 



When Polly was warm and had eaten 

 something, Mr. Dawson put her to bed, 

 and Mr. Bob took me to the warm 

 kitchen, where I had a nice supper of 

 wheat bran. While I was eating Mr. 

 Dawson came to the kitchen and patted 

 me on the neck. "Brave Lopez," he 

 said, "you saved the life of your little 

 mistress." 



After a few minutes the young man 

 stood up. "Mr. Dawson," he said, "I 

 am going to ride to Vinson's to-night 

 and let him know that his child is safe." 



"What," cried Mr. Dawson, "ride ten 

 miles through this storm? You must 

 not think of such a thing." 



"Yes," replied the young man, quietly, 

 "I shall go. Blackbird will carry me 

 there safely, and I shall only be doing 

 as I would be done by." 



A little later I heard him ride away, 

 and then I went to sleep. 



Alice Moss Joyner. 



152 



