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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"Frontier Stories"

But come, I will show you a
spring known only to myself, the wood ducks, and the squirrels. I
discovered it the first day I saw you, and gave it your name. But you
shall christen it yourself. It will be all yours, and yours alone, for
it is so hidden and secluded that I defy any feet but my own or whoso
shall keep step with mine to find it. Shall that foot be yours,
Nellie?"
Her face beamed with a bright assent. "It may be difficult to track it
from here," he said, "but stand where you are a moment, and don't move,
rustle, nor agitate the air in any way. The woods are still now." He
turned at right angles with the trail, moved a few paces into the ferns
and underbrush, and then stopped with his finger on his lips. For an
instant both remained motionless; then, with his intent face bent
forward and both arms extended, he began to sink slowly upon one knee
and one side, inclining his body with a gentle, perfectly-graduated
movement until his ear almost touched the ground. Nellie watched his
graceful figure breathlessly, until, like a bow unbent, he stood
suddenly erect again, and beckoned to her without changing the
direction of his face.


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