Motion Picture Story Magazine (Aug 1911-Jan 1912)

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THE CALL OF THE WILDERNESS 25 pale-face husband to journey abroad if he wished. It was right that his squaw should wait at the lodge to welcome him on his return. So, Starlight watched and waited silently, passively, never doubting the loyalty of her husband; but, at last, she gradually yielded more and more to the thought that the Great Spirit had called him to the Land of the Hereafter. Sir John Stuart was bored. He wandered about the spacious grounds of Lady Tracy Langdon's beautiful estate, and mentally hurled anathemas upon the luckless person who originated garden parties. He was weary of the ceaseless attention of aspiring dowagers with marriageable daughters. He longed to take off his coat and throw himself down under a tree and smoke in peace. He had learnt the art in Colorado. A trio of simpering, gushing women bore down upon him. They wished him to tell his impressions of America — of the savageness of the Indians. "Is it true," cried one, "that they have no sense of honor, no moral sense, no idea whatever of keeping faith with anyone?" "That has not been my experience with them," he replied, and a faraway look came into his eyes. The conversation brought back to his mind visions of the deep, beautiful colorings of the mountains; of the little cabin nestled amid the trees ; of the song of the birds, the wild sounds of the woods that neither marred nor broke the magnificent silence; and, framed amid the wonderful setting of nature, the great, luminous, faithful eyes of his beautiful Indian bride — his Starlight. " I 'm a brute, ' ' he thought, to himself. ' ' I ought never to have left her. The Lord only knows what may have happened to her by now, poor child! I must go back!" It was the call of the wilderness! London society gasped, a few days later, when it learnt that Sir John Stuart had again returned to his mining interests in Colorado. It would have gasped a great deal more had it witnessed his arrival at the little town in the mountains. His first question was for Starlight. The miner who had witnessed the marriage answered with an impatient gesture in the direction of the cabin. ' ' She 's out there, dying of a broken heart ! " he muttered. It was just what he had expected to hear, yet the words struck terror to his heart. He had hoped to be in time to save her. He knew what grief she was capable of. He knew the power of her devotion. He hurried on, but it seemed that he would never reach the cabin. The miner's horse, which he had been successful in borrowing, was ridden as it had never been ridden by its master. Stuart knew now, as he had never known before, that the little Indian maiden was the one real love of his heart, and — perhaps the love of his heart was dying! He urged the horse onward with fretful impatience. The little cabin amid the pine trees stood lonely and forsaken. There was no one there to welcome the weary rider. A little heap of ashes in the stove indicated that some one had but recently departed. With Indian instinct, Starlight had burned and destroyed all that remained of the life that was past. She had evidently made careful preparation. Out thru the great stillness Stuart 's voice resounded again and again as he called aloud the name of his wife. "Star— light! Star— light!" But there came no answer. Nothing but the echo — the hollow, mocking, remorseless echo, that rattled away down the canyon with a wild, weird sound that savored of death and judgment. "There is no place she could go," thought Stuart ; " no place she would go — except ' ' Springing on his horse, he dashed madly off again, up the narrow pass leading to the lonely resting-place of the great chief. As he neared the summit, he thought he caught the sound of a wailing chant. He remembered that he had heard, somewhere, of the