"
"Sit still, ma'am," said the doctor, sternly, for Mrs. Watson was wildly
fumbling at the fastening of the door. "Mary, put your arm round Mrs.
Watson, and hold her tight. There'll be a real accident, sure as fate, if
you don't." Then in a gentler tone, "It's only a buggy, ma'am; there's
plenty of room. There's no possible risk of a pedler's wagon. What on
earth should a pedler be doing up here on the side of Cheyenne!
Prairie-dogs don't use pomatum or tin-ware."
"Oh, I didn't know," repeated poor Mrs. Watson, nervously. She watched the
buggy timorously till it was safely past; then her spirits revived.
"Well," she cried, "we're safe this time; but I call it tempting
Providence to drive so fast on such a rough road. If all canyons are as
wild as this, I sha'n't ever venture to go into another."
"Bless me! this is one of our mildest specimens," said Dr. Hope, who
seemed to have a perverse desire to give Mrs. Watson a distaste for
canyons. "This is a smooth one; but some canyons are really rough. Do you
remember, Mary, the day we got stuck up at the top of the Westmoreland,
and had to unhitch the horses, and how I stood in the middle of the creek
and yanked the carriage round while you held them? That was the day we
heard the mountain lion, and there were fresh bear-tracks all over the
mud, you remember."
"Good gracious!" cried Mrs. Watson, quite pale; "what an awful place!
Bears and lions! What on earth did you go there for?"
"Oh, purely for pleasure," replied the doctor, lightly.
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