--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Carroll, Elsie C. collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 20 number: 6 published: 1917-04 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: "Elsie C. Carroll, \"The Gift of Trapper's Cave: A Story,\" *Improvement Era* 20, no. 6 (April 1917): 516–521." source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2006unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera2006unse start_page: 516 end_page: 521 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1917-04) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2006unse publication_year: 1917 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1917, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # The Gift of Trapper's Cave: A Story — THE GIFT OF TRAPPER'S CAVE 517 children. Woods could not help noticing the rich color in the girl's cheeks, and the free, graceful swing of her hody. He was conscious in a vague, unanalyzed way, that his friendship with this strange girl of the mountains was different to any he had ever known before. He found himself making minute comparisons between her and the delicate beauty of Madge Warwick, the girl he had most been thrown with in his aunt's circle, at home. He could not even imagine Madge climbing any sort of a mountain, much less scrambling up a rocky precipice with the agility and grace of a young fawn. He was thinking now of the warm glow of happiness he always felt in Harrie's presence. But it was not strange; she had helped him so much in Iiis work. He would, in all probability, have been driven from the camp that first night if it had not been for her. Asudden wave of gratitude swept over him as he recalled these facts, and all the subsequent support she had given him. They were almost to their prize. One cliff had been scaled, but -another, still more perpendicular remained. Woods clambered up the steep rocks and reached down for the girl's hand. When she was by his side, he still kept the small brown hand and pressed it warmly. She looked up in confused embarrassment, trying to draw her hand away. "You have helped me so much, Miss Harrie," he said hurriedly, to excuse this uncalled for demonstration. "I don't believe I have ever thanked you for saving me that first night." "Please don't then," she said, withdrawing her hand, "for how could I ever thank you for what you have done for me?" He knew she meant his opening for her the door to education. "Oh, but that was just a pleasure to me. You have worked so hard to help me succeed. Why have you done it? Was it all because you liked the boys?" He saw a deeper color spring to her cheeks, and he felt alarmed at the sudden impulse that had prompted the question. Still he waited impatiently for her answer. The girl stood a moment with downcast eyes. He saw a quiver pass over her slender body. It recalled that day in Trapper's Cave. He felt an overwhelming desire to take her in his arms. The girl looked up into his face for a second, then, instead of replying to his question, she darted away with the challenging call that she could beat him to their goal. He did not accept the challenge, but followed slowly, alarmed at his own behavior. Why had he been so indiscreet? He felt that he had nearly destroyed a very precious thing, his simple, sacred comradeship with this wonderful girl. When he joined her she had her arms full of the red-brown leaves, and as if to convince him that he must not allude to a 518 IMPROVEMENT ERA forbidden subject, she began a lively chatter about the various shrubs about them. They soon started down the hill. "Wait," said Woods presently. "Let's go to the Trapper's Cave while we are up so near it. It will soon be winter and we will have to give up these rambles." But the girl shook her head. He felt instinctively that she had some delicate reason of her own for not wishing to visit the spot. Their conversation of that other day had never been referred to, and the man found himself often wondering if she still regarded her origin as such a tragedy. » * *# * * * * A week later the minister was standing with Mr. and Mrs. Channing and some of the boys on Channing's porch looking at the new church that was now all but completed. It was a splendid little structure providing, aside from the assembly room, a good gymnasium and a couple of comfortable reading rooms. Across the gulch in front of the bunk-house Harrie was standing with Mrs. O'Hara and Nick. Presently someone drew attention to a covered carriage that had just come in sight on the road leading up from Mohava. Woods strained his eyes for a moment, then sprang down the steps exclaiming, "I do believe that's Uncle Phil!" Afew moments later the carriage drew up in front of Channing's cabin, and the distinguished looking man who was sitting by the driver got to the ground and seized both of the minister's hands. "You see, my boy, we came a little early, taking advantage of this splendid weather. How are you? You never looked so well in your life. Preaching must agree with you." With a chuckle, he turned to the carriage and assisted a stout, rosy cheeked lady, who rushed to Woods and took him in her motherly arms. "Aunt Polly, I can't tell you how good it is to see you," he said kissing affectionately the woman who had taken his mother's place in his orphaned life. "But you'll be more glad to see someone else," his Aunt replied roguishly. "You can't guess the surprise we brought you." "No, really, I can't, but don't keep me in suspense." His uncle opened the carriage door again, and a slender girl, with great masses of yellow hair and a skin as fair as a lily, stepped to the ground. "Why, Madge!" he exclaimed. "How good of you to come!" He took the two hands she extended and looked for a moment into the fair face. The miners discreetly left the porch, and the guests were THE GIFT OF TRAPPER'S CAVE 519 presented to Mr. and Mrs. Channing and taken into the house. It was Christmas Eve. The week just passed had been a busy one for Ralph Woods, but not altogether a happy one. Besides his regular work, there were his friends to entertain, and preparations for the coming festival. These should only have been pleasant tasks, however. Finally, after studying himself for some clew to his own ill humor, the young man was forced to admit, it was because he had not seen Harrie Lee since the arrival of his guests. Since that day on the mountain, he had analyzed his feelings very carefully and come to some definite and important conclusions. He hoped to see the girl in a few minutes now. The boys were going to decorate the new church for the services in the morning. She would be there, of course, as the plans for the decorations had all been hers. He was trying to decide just bow he would say the things he had to tell her. "I must go over and help the boys awhile now," he told his friends. "You will make yourselves at home, and if I'm a little late don't wait up for me." He expected to accompany Harrie to her home when they were through. "Oh, Ralph, do let me go with you," pleaded Madge. "No, Madge, I really don't think you would better go. I'm afraid the boys would not feel free if you were there. This is their work, you know, and I have no right to spoil it." He knew very well this was not the real reason, and he hurried away leaving Madge Warwick with a pout on her pretty face. When he reached the church he found the work already done, and the boys rehearsing some of their parts for the next day. "Why, I thought we were to meet at seven!" he exclaimed, looking for Harrie. "Harrie had something else she had to do, so we done it earlier," they told him. "How do you like it?" "It is fine," he answered half-heartedly, and soon left them, in a very uncertain frame of mind. Harrie was evidently purposely avoiding him. Did she guess his own feelings, and was she trying to repulse them in this way to keep from openly wounding him? Well, whatever the cost, he must see her and speak what was in his heart. He started toward her cabin. Then, suddenly, he changed his mind and climbed instead, to the ledge where they had gone for the red leaves. It was late when he came down to the camp and the moon was just beginning to peep over the mountain top. As he crossed the gulch he thought he saw something moving in the 520 IMPROVEMENT ERA shadow of the church. After a moment, however, he decided that it was nothing but Mrs. O'Hara's dog, and passed on. He was soon in bed and was just dozing off when he heard a peculiar tap on his window. He got up and, slipping into his clothes, went out. No one was in sight. He was just turning into the house thinking he had been dreaming, when his eye caught something white on the window sill. He picked up the note and going into the house read: "Don't visit the mines with your friends as you have planned for tomorrow. It may mean death if you do. There is often mischief afoot. Keep your eye on Nick Tupple." The note was not signed, but Woods felt sure it had been written by Harrie. He went ovit and walked almost to her home hoping to see her. At last he went back and to his bed again. He did not sleep for a long time. He had his plans fully made for the next day first. When Good Luck Camp arose next morning thev found the new church a mass of burning embers. After the first wild excitement was over, they began to look for the incendiary. Nick Tupple was missing and suspicion settled upon him. The big celebration, so carefully planned, was changed to a day of gloom and disappointment. "Well, let us go to the works and see what is there anyhow," said Madge Warwick petulantly as the afternoon wore on. "You seem to have lost heart in everything," she continued complainingly to Ralph, and indeed it was true. "We can't visit the mines today," he told her, and hoped she would not press him for a reason. But that was too much to expect of any woman, and especially of this young lady who felt she was losing out in some unexplainable way with the man she had such a particular interest in. "Well, I have been warned that a visit there today may cost us our lives?" "And who warned vou, may I ask?" the girl insisted. "Was it that queer little half-breed who seems to have such an influence over you?" Woods flushed angrily but managed to answer civilly, "I was warned through an unsigned note." With this, he seized his hat and left the house. He walked rapidlv to Harrie's cabin, onlv to find it deserted. Instinctively, he climbed the mountain to the Trapper's Cave. When he pushed the drv clematis aside, he saw the girl sitting on the rough seat within, her frame shaking with convulsive sobs. With a quick stride he reached her and gathered her in his arms. She looked up in alarm and tried to free herself, but he held her close. THE GIFT OF TRAPPER'S CAVE 521 "Harrie, little Harrie," he whispered tremulously in her ear. "I love you. Tell me you will be my wife." She held him back so she could read his face. — — "But but the girl with your aunt?" she faltered questioningly. "She can remain with my aunt. She is Aunt Polly's protege, not mine.We have never been more than good friends. Now we are scarcely that." Still the girl hesitated. He felt her quiver in his arms and she asked falteringly, while the blood — — rushed to her face, "Would you marry a half-breed?" "I will marry no one but you." There was a sound like thunder and they felt the ground beneath them tremble. "Nick's blast meant for you!" the white-faced girl whispered with trembling lips. There was another roar and just back of them a piece of the cave wall fell to the floor. To their surprise the hole left was a carefully chiseled box from which a pile of letters and papers were falling to the ground. Curiously they began to examine them. From the top of the pile, Woods picked up a photograph. "Why it is you!" he exclaimed in surprise. "No, no, I never had one in my life," Harrie cried staring wonderingly at the familiar face. The man picked up a small book and opening it read, "Diary of Edward W. Lee." Harrie sank limply into the seat, still clutching the photograph in her nerveless fingers. "Read!" she whispered hoarsely, and Woods went on: "My wife Harriet Rochester Lee died a month ago of tuberculosis. I was distracted with grief. There was nothing else to live for but my baby girL and she showed symptoms of the same dreaded disease. I have buried myself here with her in the mountains to fight for her life. Yesterday I ran onto a poor Indian woman lost from her tribe and carrying a small infant. I have persuaded her to become my housekeeper." "That will do," breathed the girl. "I will read the rest when I have tasted to the full this first great joy." Happy tears were streaming over her face down upon the picture which she was pressing passionately to her lips, as she breathed over and over in little catching sobs, "Mother! My beautiful mother!" Woods began to gather up the papers, his brow wrinkled in thought. At last it cleared, and he turned to the girl and said, "Harrie, your father must have been the friend my Uncle Phil spent so many years trying to find. To think, dear, that after all these years I should have come out here and found you.** Slowly they made their way down the mountain side. 522 IMPROVEMENT ERA The wedding took place on New Year's day. Ralph's uncle and aunt remained for the occasion and Madge Warwick, with surprising good grace, begged to be bride's maid. The day after the wedding a large number of workmen arrived from Mohava and began to work about the big saloon. The people of Good Luck watched curiously. The first thing they did was to cover the big, gaudy front with coat after coat of white paint. Then they wrote in clear gold letters, "THE HARRIE LEE MINERS' HOME" The workmen refuesd to answer any questions, but proceeded to transform the building into all that the new name implied. One day, a short time after this, the mail brought Harrie a strange letter. It read: "Deer hary, sometim im comin bak t see if u kin fergiv me the men'll build the church agin an mak it finer if my doe lasts i knowed u wuz gon on the precher and i thot he woodnt hev u cuz u was part squaw "when that sity gal kum i seen how it hurt u an i didnt kar whut i dnn thats why i burnt the church an put the blast in the min i wuz in the cav when the preacher kum an u found them papers i gess the blast dun som good an im glad it didnt kill nobudy im sory i was so ornery to the preacher now i no he wuz ok. i hop u'll both fergiv me an alius be hapy Someday i'm comin' back an' be decent. Gudby. Nick." Ithaca, New York The Wraith Tonight I pillow on my breast, As in the days agone, Your golden head, dear little one, To soothe you with my song. Once more your tiny, dimpled hands Are held for me to kiss, Again my lips your palms caress And taste of hallowed bliss. I watch your eye-lids slowly droop And hide your eyes of blue, Oft brimming o'er with wonderment, And coy with mischief, too. But when I fain would fold you close, No warm, soft form I press; My yearning arms hold, now, alas, Despair of emptiness! A babe who was not mine to bear But only mine to love; Tonight a wraith lies in your place, My aching heart above. Grace Ingles Frost.