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The Rock Art of Eastern North America Capturing
Images and Insight 1st Edition Carol Diaz-Granados
Digital Instant Download
Author(s): Carol Diaz-Granados, James R. Duncan
ISBN(s): 9780817350963, 0817350969
Edition: 1st
File Details: PDF, 5.08 MB
Year: 2004
Language: english
The Rock-Art of Eastern North America
 The Rock-Art
of Eastern
North America
Capturing Images and Insight

Edited by
Carol Diaz-Granados

and
James R. Duncan

T H E U N I V E R S I T Y OF A L A B A M A PR E S S

Tuscaloosa
Copyright © 2004
The University of Alabama Press
Tuscaloosa, Alabama 35487-0380
All rights reserved
Manufactured in the United States of America

Frontispiece: Mohawk Chief Hendrick, standing next to a tree into

which there is carved a tabulation of his 39 coupes. The eight incised
figures with heads depict the number of prisoners he had taken and
the 31 incised figures without heads depict the enemies he had killed.
(Lithographic print courtesy of the Library of Congress; the dates and
artist are not identified)

Typeface: AGaramond

∞
The paper on which this book is printed meets the minimum requirements
of American National Standard for Information Science–Permanence
of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48-1984.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

The rock-art of eastern North America : capturing images and insight / edited by
Carol Diaz-Granados and James R. Duncan.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 0-8173-1394-X (cloth : alk. paper) —
ISBN 0-8173-5096-9 (pbk. : alk. paper)
1. Indians of North America—East (U.S.)—Antiquities.
2. Petroglyphs—East (U.S.) 3. Rock paintings—East (U.S.)
4. Picture-writing—East (U.S.) 5. East (U.S.)—Antiquities.
I. Diaz-Granados, Carol, 1943– II. Duncan, James Richard,
1942–
E78.E2R63 2004
709´.01´1308997073—dc22
2004005273

ISBN 978-0-8173-5096-3 (pbk. : alk. paper)

ISBN 978-0-8173-8404-3 (electronic)
This book is dedicated to the trailblazers of eastern rock-art research and
founding “fathers” of the Eastern States Rock Art Research Association:
James Swauger
Fred E. Coy, Jr.
Charles H. Faulkner
 Contents

List of Illustrations
xi
List of Tables
xix
Preface
xxi
Acknowledgments
xxiii
Introduction
xxv
DENDROGLY PHS
1. Native American Dendroglyphs of the Eastern Woodlands
Fred E. Coy, Jr.
3
ET HNOGR A PH Y
2. Ratcliffe Sacred Rock and the Seven Sacred Stones, Iowa
Lori A. Stanley
19
3. Mississippian Cosmology and Rock-Art at the Millstone Bluff Site, Illinois
Mark J. Wagner, Mary R. McCorvie, and Charles A. Swedlund
42
4. Pica, Geophagy, and Rock-Art in the Eastern United States
Kevin L. Callahan
65
PAT TER N I NG OF SI TES A ND MOT IFS
5. On the Edges of the World: Prehistoric Open-Air Rock-Art in Tennessee
Charles H. Faulkner, Jan F. Simek, and Alan Cressler
77
viii Contents

6. Rock-Art and Late Woodland Settlement in the Northern Ozarks

Richard Edging and Steven R. Ahler
90
7. Pattern and Function at the Jeffers Petroglyphs, Minnesota
Robert Alan Clouse
110
8. Elemental Forms of Rock-Art and the Peopling of the Americas
Jack Steinbring
126
9. Re®ections of Power, Wealth, and Sex in Missouri Rock-Art Motifs
Carol Diaz-Granados and James R. Duncan
145
10. Association between a Southeastern Rock-Art Motif and Mortuary Caves
Jan F. Simek, Alan Cressler, and Elayne Pope
159
GENDER
11. Farming, Gender, and Shifting Social Organization: A New Approach to
Understanding Kentucky’s Rock-Art
Cecil R. Ison
177
12. Empowering the SECC: The “Old Woman” and Oral Tradition
James R. Duncan and Carol Diaz-Granados
190
SU RV EY, R ECOR DI NG, CONSERVAT ION,
A ND M A NAGEMEN T
13. Recordation, Conservation, and Management of Rock Imagery
at Samuel’s Cave, Wisconsin
Johannes H. N. Loubser and Robert F. Boszhardt
219
14. Rock-Art Sites on the Susquehanna River
Paul Nevin
239
15. The South Carolina Rock-Art Survey
Tommy Charles
258
HISTOR IC
16. The Peterborough Petroglyphs: Native or Norse?
Joan M. Vastokas
277
Contents ix

17. The Bald Friar Petroglyphs of Maryland:

Threatened, Rescued, Lost, and Found
Edward J. Lenik
290
18. Clift’s Rock: Unionism and the Civil War in East Tennessee
Rex Weeks
308
DAT I NG MET HODS
19. Passamaquoddy Shamanism and Rock-Art in Machias Bay, Maine
Mark Hedden
319
20. Analyzing and Dating the Nisula Site, Québec
Daniel Arsenault
344
References Cited
361
Contributors
407
Index
411
 Illustrations

Frontispiece. Mohawk Chief Hendrick

1.1. Iroquois clan animal drawings taken from a tree (with the bark
removed) 8
1.2. Record of Iroquois exploits carved into a tree 10
1.3. Indian warmarks transcribed from a tree on the banks of the
Muskingum River, Ohio 12
1.4. Various markings on trees recorded by Lieutenant
Colonel Hubley 14
1.5. Trees painted by Indians between the headwaters of
the Susquehanna 16
2.1. Location of Allamakee County, Iowa, and the Ratcliffe Sacred Rock
petroglyph boulder 20
2.2. Ratcliffe Sacred Rock 21
2.3. Sacred Rock petroglyph 21
2.4. Diamond-shaped glyph from Bear Creek Rock Shelter; elliptical glyphs
with central groove from Woolstrom/Malone-Blake Crevice 22
2.5. Seven arrow points and their clamshell container recovered from the
site of Ratcliffe Sacred Rock 24
2.6. Members of the Winnebago Tribe of Nebraska who visited Ratcliffe
Sacred Rock in 1997 26
2.7. Morphology and ®aking patterns con¤rming ¤ve of the Sacred Rock
arrow points (housed at Ef¤gy Mounds National Monument) 28
2.8. Road grading activities completely exposed the south face of
Sacred Rock 30
2.9. Ellison Orr beside Ratcliffe Sacred Rock 31
2.10. Copper or brass serpent artifacts from Oneota contexts in the
Upper Iowa River valley 37
3.1. Illinois counties with reported rock-art sites 43
3.2. Millstone Bluff site topographical map showing locations of eastern,
western, and central petroglyph groups 44
3.3. Photograph of eastern petroglyph group, Millstone Bluff site 50
3.4. Map of eastern petroglyph group, Millstone Bluff site 51
xii Illustrations

3.5. Map of repeating pattern of three motifs, falconid bird,

anthropomorph, and bilobed arrow, eastern petroglyph group,
Millstone Bluff site 52
3.6. Photograph of falconid bird, eastern petroglyph group,
Millstone Bluff site 53
3.7. Photograph of plumed bilobed arrow motif, eastern petroglyph group,
Millstone Bluff site 54
3.8. Mississippian birdman image, Mound C, Etowah site; piasa image
showing use of bisected chevrons to indicate wings 55
3.9. Map of western petroglyph group, Millstone Bluff site 56
3.10. Photograph of elk-antlered serpent being, western petroglyph group,
Millstone Bluff site 58
3.11. Map of central petroglyph group, Millstone Bluff site 59
3.12. Millstone Bluff site: falconid bird with bilobed arrow headdress; large
male anthropomorph with upraised arm 61
4.1. The cupmarked boulder at Blood Run, Iowa 67
4.2. Close-up of the Blood Run, Iowa, boulder 67
4.3. A cupmarked sandstone block, discovered in Lawrence
County, Ohio 68
4.4. Cups and furrows on the wall of Saint Mary’s Church, at
Greifswald, Pomerania 69
5.1. Photograph of red disk pictograph on bluffs above the
Harpeth River 78
5.2. Map of Tennessee showing the physiographic regions described in
the text 79
5.3. Sketches by Thomas Lewis of red pictographs in a rockshelter along
the Tennessee River 81
5.4. Drawing of bison pictograph in a rockshelter near the
Harpeth River 82
5.5. Red pictographs of anthropomorphs, geometric shapes, and a
winged image from rockshelters in the southern Cumberland
Plateau escarpment 83
5.6. Petroglyphs from Gernt Shelter Rock in the northern
Cumberland Plateau 84
5.7. Photograph of lobed cross from the Cross site in the southern
Cumberland Plateau 85
5.8. Photograph of winged anthropomorph from a rockshelter on the
eastern escarpment of the central Cumberland Plateau 88
5.9. Enigmatic petroglyph engraved into the surface of a large natural rock
bridge in northeastern Tennessee 89
6.1. Fort Leonard Wood showing site complexes discussed in the text 92
6.2. Late Woodland sites in the Miller complex 95
Illustrations xiii

6.3. Images reported for the Miller Petroglyphs site: vulvar motif or
bisected oval; winged zoomorph 97
6.4. Late Woodland sites in the Lohraff complex 99
6.5. Images documented on Lohraff Petroglyphs Rock No. 1 101
6.6. Photographic detail of the Lohraff “shaman” ¤gure 102
6.7. Line drawing of images on the entire rock face, Lohraff Petroglyphs
Rock No. 2 104
6.8. Photograph of the spotted eagle/owl/hawk image on Lohraff
Petroglyphs Rock No. 2 with details enhanced by snow 105
7.1. Location of the Jeffers Petroglyphs site in southwestern
Minnesota 111
7.2. Clusters de¤ned for Jeffers Petroglyphs; locations of Type 1
anthropomorphs; locations of Type 3 anthropomorphs 113-115
7.3. Type 3 horned anthropomorph 118
7.4. Humanoid stick ¤gure type anthropomorphs 119
7.5. Correspondence analysis graphs: glyph types; clusters; glyphs and
clusters at Jeffers Petroglyphs site 121-123
7.6. View of Jeffers Petroglyphs site and terrain 125
8.1. Superb Rau lithoprint of a formalized cupule site in India 128
8.2. Typical cup and ring site: Torrs Farm site in southwestern
Scotland 129
8.3. The Alberta Corridor as commonly conceived, 12,000 b.p. 132
8.4. A pecked mass containing noncontiguous dots at the Mud
Portage site, Ontario 134
8.5. Small, solidly pecked animal petroglyphs at the Mud Portage
site, Ontario 134
8.6. Flake tools from the Mud Portage site, Ontario 136
8.7. Prehistoric quarry on high ground overlooking the Mud Portage
site, Ontario 137
8.8. Flake tools from the Rush Bay Road site 138
8.9. Periglacial refugium in northwestern Ontario; access to refugium from
northeastern Minnesota, available as early as 14,500 b.p. 140
8.10. One of two ribstones on the crown of a steep hill near Viking,
Alberta, Canada 142
9.1. The Cahokia Birdman on incised sandstone tablet; anthropomorphic
hawk on a Wul¤ng Plate from Dunklin County, Missouri 147
9.2. Birdman ¤gures: Picture Cave; Peene-Murat site; Washington State
Park-A 147
9.3. Petroglyph panel at the Maddin Creek site: twins of Morning Star
battling the giant 148
9.4. Drawings of two shell maskettes: Rogana, Tennessee, and Yokem site,
Pike County, Illinois 149
xiv Illustrations

9.5. Morning Star (the son or nephew) carrying the head of his father
(or uncle) Morning Star 149
9.6. Hawks and anthropomorphs: Wallen Creek; Washington State Park-A;
Maddin Creek 151
9.7. Male ¤gures with prominent phalli: Picture Cave ¤gure; Plains
rawhide cutout 153
9.8. Bilobed arrow petroglyphs at the Maddin Creek site 153
9.9. Bilobed arrow pictograph at the Lost Creek site 154
9.10. Vulvar petroglyphs: Miller Cave; Three Hills Creek; Washington State
Park-A; Bushberg-Meisner 154
9.11. Petroglyph of vulvar motif at Bushberg-Meisner site 155
9.12. Concentric circles with serpent motifs, Plattin Creek site 156
9.13. Birthing (puerperal) panels: Maddin Creek; Three Hills Creek 157
10.1. Petroglyphs from 5th Unnamed Cave, Tennessee 161
10.2. Photograph of face and toothy mouth petroglyphs from 6th Unnamed
Cave, Tennessee 163
10.3. Photographs of face ef¤gies with toothy mouths from 11th Unnamed
Cave, Tennessee 165
10.4. Petroglyphs from 14th Unnamed Cave, West Virginia 168
10.5. Petroglyphs from 15th Unnamed Cave, Georgia 170
10.6. Toothy mouth petroglyphs from 34th Unnamed Cave, Tennessee 171
11.1. Human footprints sharing a common rock face with a hominy hole 182
11.2. Petroglyph resembling a plant/organic form, located in shelter with
hominy holes 183
11.3. Map of Kentucky showing locations of early cultivar concentrations,
hominy hole distribution, and petroglyph sites 184
12.1. Map of research area indicating concentration of rock-art depicting
gender motifs 192
12.2. West-facing vulvaform located at Washington State Park, Site A 193
12.3. Distribution of vulvar motifs, as well as vulvar-phallic and
puerperal motifs 194
12.4. Red and white painted, hooded bottle depicting an Old Woman from
the Campbell site 195
12.5. Vulvar motifs found in Missouri petroglyphs 196
12.6. The Birger ¤gurine, an early Stirling phase image of the
Old Woman 197
12.7. “Deer Woman” petroglyph at the Maddin Creek site 198
12.8. Deer iconography: deer petroglyphs at 1,000 Hills State Park 199
12.9. Bone hairpin fragment carved in the likeness of a doe deer 200
12.10. Groeper “horned serpent” pictograph on the wall of a shelter, Warren
County, Missouri 201
12.11. Old Woman/celestial family chart 202
12.12. Late Mississippian pottery bottle in the shape of an Old Woman 204
Illustrations xv

12.13. Osage Big Moon altar (vulvaform) 205

12.14. Second daughter: the West ¤gurine 206
12.15. Avian petroglyphs carved with accompanying stick and ball: Washington
State Park-A; Bushnell Ceremonial Cave; Maddin Creek 207
12.16. Osage Roadman’s staff for use during the Big Moon
peyote ceremony 208
12.17. Spiro gorget displaying striped pole 209
12.18. Morning Star ¤gure at Picture Cave 209
12.19. Women carrying the scalps of slain enemies perform an adoption rite
as part of a lengthy mourning ceremony among the Osage 210
12.20. Nopawalla blanket ¤gure 211
12.21. The World Tree depicted on a Spiro cup 212
12.22. Dorsey’s World Tree 213
13.1. Diagrammatic representation of the conservation management
planning process 220
13.2. Plan map of Samuel’s Cave, showing interior rock surfaces and
location of motifs 223
13.3. Cross-section map of Samuel’s Cave, showing areas with motifs 224
13.4. Redrawn tracing of Area C, Samuel’s Cave 226
13.5. Redrawn tracing of Area H, Samuel’s Cave 228
13.6. Redrawn tracing of Area I, Samuel’s Cave 229
13.7. Redrawn tracing of Area O, Samuel’s Cave 230
13.8. Close-up of bottom central portion of Area O, Samuel’s Cave 231
13.9. Redrawn tracing of Area S, Samuel’s Cave 232
13.10. Diagrammatic representation of the relative sequence of motif types
within Samuel’s Cave 234
14.1. Typical Bald Friar design motifs 240
14.2. Typical Walnut Island design motifs 241
14.3. A two and one-half foot long serpent executed in outline or relief on
Little Indian Rock 242
14.4. Close-up view of petroglyphs on the southern end of Circle Rock 246
14.5. Anthropomorphs on Big Indian Rock 251
14.6. Thunderbird and anthropomorphs on Big Indian Rock 252
14.7. Petroglyphs on the main portion of Little Indian Rock 253
14.8. Petroglyphs on Eagle Rock 254
14.9. Possible eclipse motif on Little Indian Rock 254
14.10. Some of the Safe Harbor designs having associated cupules: Little
Indian Rock; Big Indian Rock; Circle Rock 255
14.11. Some of the Safe Harbor carvings indicating direction: Little Indian
Rock; Big Indian Rock; Eagle Rock 255
15.1. South Carolina’s geographical zones 260
15.2. Circle petroglyph with radiating lines at site 38PN127 263
15.3. Cupules incorporated into petroglyph at site 38OC378 264
xvi Illustrations

15.4. Possible anthropomorphic ¤gures at site 38PN81 265

15.5. Human and animal ¤gures at site 38LU422 265
15.6. Cupules associated with petroglyphs at site 38OC378 266
15.7. A recently discovered site in Pickens County, South Carolina, with
numerous human ¤gures and geometric or abstract forms 267
15.8. The “King Beetle Rock” at site 38RD668 268
15.9. The two major variations of the circle and line petroglyph motif 268
15.10. Pictograph at site 38PN102 270
16.1. “Solar-boat,” Peterborough Petroglyphs; Bronze Age petroglyph,
Bohuslan, Sweden 278
16.2. General view of the north side of the Peterborough Petroglyphs site 281
16.3. Ti¤nagh script 282
16.4. Shaman ¤gure, Peterborough Petroglyphs; example of
“sacred outline” 288
17.1. Copy of D. H. Landis photograph of petroglyphs on a “rocky inlet
about 100 yards northwest of Miles Island” 294
17.2. Bald Friar glyph characterized as a “face” 296
17.3. Possible face and vulvar glyphs at Bald Friar 297
17.4. Bald Friar ¤sh petroglyph, 18 inches by 10 inches 298
17.5. Glyph interpreted by Landis as an anthropomorphic ¤gure 299
17.6. Quarried Bald Friar petroglyphs stored at Druid Hill Park,
Baltimore, Maryland 300
17.7. One specimen of a quarried Bald Friar petroglyph in the pile stored
at Druid Hill Park, Baltimore, Maryland 300
17.8. Quarried ¤sh petroglyph from Bald Friar 302
17.9. Concentric circles with linear appendage from Bald Friar 303
18.1. Colonel William Clift in his Federal uniform 310
18.2. Geographical location of Clift’s Rock 311
18.3. Drawing of petroglyphs on Clift’s Rock 312
18.4. Left hand petroglyph at Clift’s Rock 314
18.5. Presbyterian meetinghouse petroglyph at Clift’s Rock 315
19.1. Map of the Maritime peninsula with Machias Bay and the
Passamaquoddy-Maliseet (Etchemin) tribal territories in a.d. 1600 322
19.2. Machias Bay outer ledge at 62.1, looking northwest at low tide 323
19.3. Machias Bay petroglyphs: Style 1, Style 2, Style 3 327
19.4. Machias Bay Style 5a, shaman/spirit as active performer with bird
attributes 336
19.5. Machias Bay Style 5a, shaman or anthropomorphic spirit featuring
arms out and bent upward in gesture of “bearing gifts” 337
19.6. Machias Bay Style 2, shaman invested by spirit, which is represented
only by a second pair of legs connected to the central “spirit path” 339
19.7. Machias Bay Style 4, shaman with “full belly” spirit 340
19.8. Meda spirit who hears, sees all 341
Illustrations xvii

19.9. Maymaygwayshi healing spirit 343

20.1. Map of the Province of Québec showing the location of
rock-art sites 346
20.2. General view of the Nisula site under winter conditions 350
20.3. Front view of the Nisula site partly covered with ice 351
20.4. The main panel of the Nisula site displaying dozens of elements traced
with red ochre 352
20.5. Anthropomorphic ¤gures on the main panel of the Nisula site 353
20.6. Close-up view of a digital tracing at the Nisula site, showing the clear
imprint of the painter’s ¤ngertip 354
20.7. Motifs and associated lines visible on the rock surface of panel II,
the main decorated panel of Nisula site 355
20.8. One of the two motifs depicting a horn-headed ¤gure from which a
pigment sample was taken for AMS dating 357
20.9. Detail of an old map of the so-called Domaine du Roy en
Nouvelle-France, the ¤rst mention of a rock-art site in Canada 358
 Tables

3.1. Comparison of major motif types, Millstone Bluff site 50

10.1. Radiocarbon age determinations for Southeastern cave art sites with
burials discussed in the text 162
14.1. Distribution and frequency of designs at Safe Harbor
petroglyph sites 250
15.1. Rock-art sites in South Carolina 261
19.1. Diagnostic features in Machias Bay petroglyphs by style period 328
19.2. Depths below mean high tides and distances from shore for each
style period 330
19.3. Metrics, contours, and wear of Machias Bay petroglyphs by
style period 334
Other documents randomly have
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 XLV
NOTHING SERIOUS
A warrior so bold and a virgin so bright
Conversed as they sat on the green.
Alonzo the brave was the name of this knight:
The damsel, the fair Imogene.
—Lewis.

One of the mild amusements of this spring for Magnus was watching
Rig. For Mr. McLean had fallen in love. Not deeply, for that implies
certain other depths—or hopelessly, for there was every likelihood
that he would get out again all safe; but unmanageably. Unutterably,
Rig called it, and Magnus unendurably.
So the young man mooned over photographs, sported (in his room)
an end of pink riband; tumbled his hair all he could, and went down
in everything.
"I say, Rig!" Magnus admonished him one night, "keep out of the
'immortals,' whatever else you do."
"I cannot do much of anything," Rig answered mournfully.
"Well, I'd try, if I died in the effort," said Magnus. "Bone chevrons;
your charmer has a quick eye for them."
"She has a quick eye for everything."
"Wearing bell buttons." But Rig did not heed him.
"Confess, Kin, you never saw such eyes."
"Only about five hundred and forty times, when I used to go cat-
fishing. Ever notice catfish eyes, Rig?"
"They're so blue!" said Cadet McLean. "So deeply, darkly——"
"If you don't shut up," Magnus shouted at him, "I'll try if I can't
shake some sense into you. Quit sighing like a furnace. You nearly
blew the gas out."
"Of course I can't expect you to understand," said Rig. "You live only
in books, far away from all this sort of thing."
"I hope so, this sort," said Magnus.
"You see, my heart is larger than my head," said Mr. McLean.
"Always was."
But now Magnus threw down his book, and pitched into his friend
very literally; pounding him, hustling him, getting him into a real
fisticuff fight to protect himself.
"Feel better, don't you?" said Mr. Kindred, when the two faced each
other, flushed and panting. "Balance of power restored?"
"I don't know how I feel!" said McLean. "I've lost all my ideas."
"Well, don't advertise them at any high figure," said Magnus.

"Let 'em alone,

And they will come home,
With their little tails behind 'em.

"Sit down and study, like a reasonable being. If I were a woman, I

wouldn't look at a man who couldn't hold his head up when my back
was turned."
"It is quite impossible for me to look at a book," said Rig.
"Very good; sit still and sigh, and I'll write your explanation."
"To whom? What about?" Rig sat up now and gazed at him.
"To the Prof. To-morrow. As follows:
"'Sir: I have the honour to state that I have fallen into a six-inch
mud puddle, and cannot get out in time for recitation. So wave
motion must wait.'"
"Stuff!" McLean said rather angrily.
"Stuff, and nothing but stuff. Rig, when you get fired in June, your
dear devoted will not turn her head to see which way you go to take
the train. Not much!" said Magnus, relieving his feelings with a bit of
slang, and then diving into his own problems for the next day. And
Rig could get neither word nor look more that night. But whatever
traditions may say, unlimited chocolate creams do not help a man
with his tactics; nor does plum cake after taps provide him a clear
head for next day's wave motion.
"You could make better marks, Mr. McLean," said the Superintendent
one day, meeting Rig. "Why don't you, sir?"
And if Rig had been openly honest, he would have answered:
"Love—and mince pie, sir."
Magnus scolded his friend, fought him, jeered him; then tried other
measures.
The days were softening and lengthening, with grass and flowers on
the jump. Visitors were arriving in numbers; and for Magnus had
come, from away across the continent, a bunch of snowdrops in
Cherry's last letter. Somehow his own great happiness made the
young cadet anxious for his friend.
"Look here, Trent," he said one day to another classmate, "can't you
pitch in and spoon that Curry girl? Rig will be ruined."
"Spoon her yourself."
"Haven't time. One more will make no difference to you."
"Thanks. Rig will put a bullet in my head, if he suspects."
"Well, your brain always did need fresh air," said Magnus, "so that
will fit. Why, to-day, in the section room, Hammer asked him the
colour of old red sandstone,—and Rig answered:
"'Blue, Lieutenant.'"
"Ha! ha!" laughed Mr. Trent. "But isn't this rather a queer business to
be talked up by our high and mighty magnate of the tender
conscience? The man who keels over at the mere sight of a 'pony.'"
"Pshaw! if it was some girls," said Magnus. "But it will make no
difference to her either. You've both worn your hearts out—
supposing you ever had any."
"Thanks—awfully! And you think Miss Curry might be induced to
hand over 'those fossil remains that she terms her affections' to
me?"
"To your temporary care. You wear chevrons," said Magnus. "And
your affections are as fossilised as hers, allowing for the argument's
sake that such things ever existed. Just stroll up on the other side,
when Rig's around. She'll be delighted. And as neither of you could
possibly fall in love with anybody, there'll be nobody hurt."
"Except Rig."
"Rig!" Magnus said impatiently. "Rig ought to be cut in little pieces
and sewed up some other way."
"Kin," said Mr. Trent, striking an easy attitude across the back of a
chair, "you amuse me."
"Well, clear out and amuse yourself," said Magnus. "I've got a
previous with this old book. And if Catkins finds you here, you'll be
skinned for all he is worth."
Which warning Mr. Trent saw fit to heed.
 XLVI
TRYING LETTERS
Though there's always enough to bear,
There is always something to do;
We have never to seek for care,
When we have the world to get through.
—Charles Swain.

But whoever succeeded in driving the moth away from the candle?
Magnus was fain to content himself with remembering that on most
singed human moths, wings grow anew very fast.
Miss Curry welcomed Mr. Trent's advances with a gracious smile, but
she by no means let go her hold of Rig; and Rig had perfectly lost
his head. The girl might flout him five times a day, and these cool
applications did but heighten the fever.
From the middle of April on, there was pretty steady "cadet
weather." Whatever the dawn may threaten, it always clears off in
time for drill, except on Saturdays, when the order is reversed, and
the rain sets in with double force just as the hours of freedom begin.
Rain did not hinder some men. Magnus rather enjoyed wrapping
himself in his long grey coat and stalking off into the gloom and the
fog. The hills were so lovely in their misty caps, the air so laden with
spring sweets: spice bush and trillium, black birch and dogwood and
azalia, and all the leaf buds just bursting their varnished sheath.
How fragrant the pines were! and the cedars and hemlocks: how
dainty the small clouds of wayfaring birds just come to spend the
night. And in another month his birds of passage would be here, and
the air full of their voices. Sometimes when Magnus thought of it,
the excitement half made him wild; and he would set off for a sharp
run up the hill, or a one-sided leap-frog among the rocks. Then he
would throw himself down on the moss and hold his head and think.
Or he took a squirrel track to the top of a tall tree and shouted (not
too loud) and waved his cap to the passing trains, and saluted the
old flag.
The Point filled up fast with candidates; and as Magnus looked at
them, he did not much wonder at the glances which had once been
cast on him. He found a slight touch of contempt the easiest thing in
the world to creep in. A host of these sombre drones seeking
something to do, a swarm of gay butterflies demanding only honey;
what a motley crowd it made.
Even Magnus was drawn in by the honey-seekers; and took Miss
Freak a walk after trailing arbutus, because she asked him so
sweetly; and indeed himself asked some other girls to go here or
there. And, of course, being a cadet, he said pretty things and made
himself agreeable, though never beyond certain limits (N. B. I do not
mean cadet limits, this time). As Miss Freak said, with her charming
frankness:
"He never gives you anything to think of at night, when you get your
back hair down."
But in spite of that small drawback, Mr. Kindred had his full share of
what Mr. Clinker facetiously termed "drilling the Light Battery."
Some very pleasant and sensible girls came to the Point that spring;
and in the great longing for sweeter tones than those of the average
cadet, Magnus was ready enough to make acquaintance and take
walks. And the girl generally declared: "It has been most delightful."
Only when one gauzy creature looked up at him and said:
"Isn't it strange? You know I've always wanted to live at an army
post—but I'm not engaged yet,"—then Cadet Kindred grew silent,
and as soon as possible resigned in favour of Mr. Clinker.
So the hope-gilded days flew on: but with the end of May came a
check.
Magnus got back from a long walk, to find two letters on his table. I
know it is the correct thing for hero and heroine to "tear open" their
letters, but Magnus cut his as carefully as if the very envelope might
hold its quota of words.
"Dear Magnus," so the clear handwriting began, "I am afraid—no, I
suppose I hope—that you will be very sorry. For I cannot go East
with Mrs. Kindred and the girls."
And here, truth compels me to say, Cadet Kindred threw down the
letter, and stamped about the room in a small tempest of
displeasure.
"What's up?" queried Rig, who had noted the postmark. "Hasn't
gone back on you, has she?"
For which harmless suggestion, Magnus promptly tumbled the
offender out of his chair, and left him to pick himself up.
"I say! Steady on that, you know," commented Mr. McLean. "Girls
are plenty; but where will you find a friend like me?"
"That was a beastly insinuation!" said Magnus in hot wrath.
"Was it? Girls are all alike, old boy." And Rig heaved a sigh.
"They're not! And this isn't what you mean by a girl. It's a—a——"
"An angel, perhaps," said Rig. "Then allow me to inquire what
business you have to be rattled, with anything an angel sees fit to
do."
"Rig," said Magnus seriously, pausing before him, "do you know
whereabouts we are in barracks?"
"Second floor, first div.," Rig answered.
"Well, you can have a chance to measure the breadth of the
window, and the depth to the ground, just as soon as you want it."
"Thanks, I'm sure," said Mr. McLean. "At this moment, I am hard at
work on the problem of your temper, minus your common sense.
What does the letter say?"
"Don't know yet," said Magnus. "I've only read three lines."
Rig looked at him, and then gathering up his own books, he carried
them over to the cold steam pipes, laid them down, and perched
himself at one end.
"You must excuse me," he said; "you are so plainly insane, that a
due regard to my personal safety brings about this temporary
coolness. 'Distance lends enchantment'—but you are more
irresistible near by."
Magnus flung back into his chair again, with a half groan, and took
up the letter. If it had been release from quarters he would have
gone to Fort Put for the reading.
"Cannot come East!" he muttered to himself. "What's the use of
reading on? She will not—and that's just where it is." And yet he
read.
"Papa is not strong this spring; not at all able for the journey; and I
cannot leave him alone. He says 'Go'—but I cannot, Magnus. Not
this year." ("Bless her for that!") Magnus interlined. "But the girls are
to see everything, and remember everything, and tell it all to me;
and maybe when you graduate we can all be there."
"I think I will not write any more to-day, because I cannot talk of
anything but this; and it is not best to say too much. But we are
fighting in the same field, Magnus, even if we are out of sight of
each other, and we get our orders from the same King. How I have
thought over and over, the seeing you at parade! I felt sure I could
always pick you out from all the three hundred. Good-bye.—Your
Cherry."
It was well for Magnus that he had little time to brood over his
disappointment. June was near at hand, some few "planks" of the
Board of Visitors already arriving, and some last study to be done.
"You bone straight on through the year," Randolph said to him one
day. "Why, in life, man, don't you let up, now and then?"
"I'm after another bone," Magnus answered him. But he did not say
that when the "standing" roll came to the hand he loved best, her
eyes must find the name of Charlemagne Kindred as high as it could
possibly be.
"Just as high as I can put it," he told himself, with a fresh rush at
everything. For faith does not spoil a man, nor holy living mar his
scholarship.
So Magnus studied, and played tennis, and ran races; did exploits on
the poles and ropes, and threw everybody who dared wrestle with
him; won his marks, kept his chevrons, and did not lose his
popularity.
But disappointments are said to hunt in couples. The next week
after Cherry's letter of bad news, came one from Mrs. Kindred, with
addition to the same. For she, too, must stay at home.
"Cherry wants my help in every way," wrote the mother. "I must stay
with her. And it is really better, dear, on all accounts. For if I live till
next June, I must go then to see you graduate,—and two such
journeys cost."
Magnus sat back in great gloom, and declared that June was
"fizzling out."
"I suppose the next word will be that Viola and Rose have some sort
of a previous at the North Pole," he said.
 XLVII
MRS. CONGRESSMAN
Pure was her mind and simple her intent,
Good all she sought and kindness all she meant.
—Crabbe.

But no such climax followed. The girls wrote that they were to leave
home on such a day, in charge of the wife of that very Congressman
who had given Magnus his appointment. A true woman of the world
in some things, but kindly, and not wanting in sense and tact. People
said she liked uniforms herself, and was glad of a train of girls
because it drew on a train of cadets. But neither thing was so very
exceptional and unheard of that people needed to be hard on her.
And she chose her girls well; always, if she could, some hid-away
damsel whose one chance of getting to the Point this might be. And
now, when the boy owed his place to her husband's good offices, it
was her delight to take his sisters. The one stipulation was that she
should have her own way about the bills.
"I must have a clear mind," she said, "and stop when I choose, and
where I choose, or the trip won't be a speck of good. It's nobody's
business how I manage my affairs, and you chits needn't strike in to
be the first."
So in this lady's ample care Rose and Violet made the long journey,
and enjoyed every scrap of it. The meals in the dining car, and (I'm
afraid) the bunks in the so-called sleeper; even the small delays, for
then they could look out to better advantage; and Mrs. Congressman
voted them the two best girls she had ever taken anywhere. "Always
ready for breakfast," she said, "and always willing to wait. It was as
good as music to hear them laugh when we had to switch off on the
side track, or when folks jammed past them to dinner; it sweetened
the whole car; curled everybody's feathers...."
It was true, and I think would have been, even on a journey not into
"Fairyland," though of course that helped. But the two were very
quiet in their eager looking; the laugh and the exclamation were
low-toned and well-bred. They asked sensible questions, and not too
many even of them. Only when they got talking of Magnus, then
indeed, the words came, with such sparkles and dimples and
exultation, that Mrs. Congressman began to think her husband had
done a bright thing for the country, when he gave that young soldier
his place. But no one else in the car found out that they had a
brother at West Point, and were on their way to see him; nor that
their escort was the wife of an Hon. M. C.; such cheap fame our two
girls had not learned to seek.
And thus it was a delightful little party that after some hours of rest,
and a late breakfast, bestowed themselves in a palace car of the
11.30 train, and went swaying and swinging up the river.
People may say they have seen the Hudson, but never before as it is
to-day, or as it will be to-morrow. The tide, the wind, the time of
year, the temperature, the magnetic conditions, join hands in an
endless chain of new effects. With a blue sky it is one thing, and will
change its complexion on the instant, with the shadow of a passing
cloud. To-day, in a frolic of white caps racing down before the north
wind, and to-morrow rolling up in dull leaden surges, with a
southern Banshee at its back. Now lapping the shore with sweetest
whispers, now decked with a fringe of winter ice. Then frozen over
from shore to shore, fitting in among the hills like an accurately cut
sheet of white paper. But living, even then, with mysterious cracks
and reports, with little plashes, where the tide breaks out along the
edge.
It was May yet, with the lilac storm just past, and the river in full
flood, tossed and heaving from the strain of the east wind. The
green of the hills—the endless shades of the young leafage—seemed
almost to change while you looked. The girls grew too breathless to
talk even about Magnus, and to the hackneyed eyes of Mrs.
Congressman, there was positive refreshment in the way those two
arm-chairs whirled on their pivots, for last glimpses and new effects.
"My dear girls, I wish my neck had the untirable quality of yours,"
she said.
"Tired—how could one be tired?" said Violet. "Oh, Rose! just see
that vessel with her sails swung out each side. That must be what
Cooper means by 'wing and wing.'"
"Yes, the wind is stirring up," said Mrs. Congressman; "I'm sure I
wish it would;" and she plied her fan.
"Let me fan you!" Rose cried, turning her chair away from the
entrancing view.
"No, no! Look out and see all you can. I may be an old goose, but I
know a little."
"You are just as kind as you can be, Mrs. Ironwood," said Rose
gratefully.
"But allow me to remark, young ladies," said their friend, looking
amused, "that at West Point there are also some things, and people,
to look at. So don't get your necks stiff. You must not gaze in one
direction all the time, there."
"Yes, ma'am. O, Violet, did you hear? The next stop is Garrisons!"
And the two girls took hold of hands, as if to keep each other still.
"Yes, we're fairly in the Highlands now," said Mrs. Congressman,
tying her bonnet strings. "Well, children, I'm glad you're so happy,
and it's a real pleasure to have you along. Some girls are just a
nuisance at West Point."
"Oh, I hope we shall not be a nuisance," Violet said, but looking out
all the while.
"I'm afraid we shall make a great many mistakes," said Rose,
studying the rocky green Dunderberg with her heart in her eyes.
"You know we have just lived at home. Couldn't you tell us now,
before we get there, how to do?"
"Bridges for rivers you'll not have to cross," quoth Mrs.
Congressman, who had imbibed a little of her husband's manner,
which now and then came out. "No use, child; you never do what
you think you will. The chief thing at West Point, as everywhere, is
to be a lady as much as a girl, and that you both are, always."
"Oh, thank you, ma'am!" Rose said warmly.
"There is one other thing," Mrs. Congressman went on, "that I might
just remark. No manner of use, but it'll not do any harm. It is only,
girls, that you must never believe anything cadets tell you."
This brought both chairs round on a sharp pirouette.
"Not anything!"
"But, you do not mean Magnus."
"Oh, Magnus is all the knights of the round table rolled into one; of
course he takes in truth among his smaller virtues. The rest do not."
"Why, I thought Magnus said truth was one of the very first things
there!" said Rose.
"Official truth. No cadet is allowed to fib officially. So they take it out
socially."
The speaker kept a perfectly grave face, and the two girls looked
aghast, felt so, all through the tunnel. But as they ran out in sight of
Fort Montgomery and the tall outlines that rose up beyond, cadets
(except Magnus) sunk down into very sublunary things.
"Oh, well, Magnus isn't so," Rose said contentedly.
"And we are not likely to see much of other cadets," Violet said,
pressing close to her window.
Mrs. Congressman watched them for a minute; the graceful heads,
the fair, well-bred faces; but then she seemed to find something very
amusing out of her own window, for she smiled to herself till they
reached Garrisons. There might be several cadets, she thought, who
would have a word to say to that statement.
If Magnus had scanned the way over and up, because there was
nobody there, for him, with what a difference the two young sisters
watched every point where possibly he might be. Silently they
followed their leader into the old omnibus, and noted every stone,
stick, and leaf, that decked the road up the hill.
Passing the Mess Hall came a new sensation; for the day was so
warm that windows and doors stood wide open, and there was not
only the usual tumult of voices, but also a tangle of heads, arms,
and grey cloth in view from the omnibus.
"The boys are at dinner," said Mrs. Ironwood.
"Oh, and is Magnus there, too?" cried the girls.
"Unless he's in the hospital."
"In the hospital!"
"He ought to be, if he's not eating his dinner. Might have sprained
his ankle, dismounting too fast. Might have swallowed too much of
Miss Somebody's cake."
But both these ideas were summarily dismissed.
"He is in there, of course," Rose said, her eyes full, and her heart
wafting a blessing to the unseen brother; and with one consent the
girls kissed their hands to the old grey building.
"Now, children," said Mrs. Congressman as they jolted on, "I must
tell you one thing. This is all very well, tucked away in the 'bus with
me; but never do you kiss hands to anybody at West Point, under
other circumstances. There are always cadets lurking round in the
bushes, and they'll think you mean them."
How the girls laughed! Whether because they had just been so near
Magnus, or at this image of an ambush of other cadets, or the faint
spice of danger in the air, or the general culmination; but even the
quiet Rose came down from her dignity, and the omnibus rattled up
to the hotel with a chorus of fun inside.
The needs of life are helpful and calming. Washing the dust off
quiets one down, and prosaic dinner brings back one's sober senses.
It was an extremely demure pair of girls that followed Mrs.
Congressman into the dining-room, and gave earnest heed while she
ordered dinner, surveyed the guests, scolded the waiter, and praised
the soup.
"You must eat, girls," she said. "Build yourselves up for what's
before you. I suppose this is the last quiet minute we shall have to
ourselves till we go away."
"What is to happen to us?" said Violet merrily.
"Walks," said Mrs. Ironwood. "And talks. And stands. I hope you've
both brought plenty of shoes."
"I noticed the stones, as we came along," said Rose.
"Stones! It's the soft going that tells on the shoes, child. I brought
Mary Gates here one rainy spring, and she finished her overshoes in
a week, and I had to send her home."
"In a week! Did she dance instead of walking?"
"Danced attendance," said Mrs. Congressman. "I didn't mean to pun,
girls, but that was the fact. Now I should take you straight off to the
guard-house to see Magnus——"
"The guard-house?"
"The visitors' room, there, silly! but work begins at two o'clock, and
we shouldn't find him. So I'll go and get a snooze, and you'd best do
the same."
"We could not possibly sleep," said Violet. "We'll sit out on the piazza
and look."
"It's a fine view, whichever way," said Mrs. Ironwood; "but the Land
of Nod is more to my mind just now. Sit out here, then, or do what
you like, only don't go off hotel limits. There's no town crier here.
And call me at a quarter past three. And girls"—she put her head
inside the door again—"whatever you do, don't go down and stand
at the hotel fence."
The girls listened to the retreating footsteps, but then they looked at
each other and laughed.
"West Point must be an odd place," said Rose.
"And she is the oddest woman! What ails the hotel fence, any more
than all other fences?" said Violet. "It looks pretty strong."
However, they obeyed orders, and wandering about a little, as all
doors stood open, came presently out upon the north piazza and the
north view.
 XLVIII
THE GUARD-HOUSE IN JUNE
The little birds sang as if it were
The one day of summer in all the year.
—Lowell.

I do not know when Mrs. Congressman would have been roused

from her nap, if the clock on the old tower had not told its tale of
the passage of time. But when three sonorous notes had sounded,
after that the girls kept close watch, for soon Magnus would be but a
half hour away.
They passed round to the west side, and sat watching the hills and
the plain and the clock, by turns; and it wanted two minutes of the
quarter when they went in. And Mrs. Ironwood was prompt. She
waked up at once, donned a fresh gown and an astonishing bonnet;
looked her girls over critically, to make sure their simple preparations
had come out all right, then sailed away down the steps and across
the plain, with her pretty convoy close following.
Late spring everywhere, blue sky and hot sun; a ravishing green
carpet, and just a stir of such air as breathes nowhere but in the
Highlands. Gaily dressed women spotted the green, dark-blue
officers came and went; the bugler at the sallyport handled and
toned his bugle.
Straight through the sallyport the Western dame led her two girls,
passing grey coats on the way across the area, and meeting others
at the guard-house; nodding to one, hailing another, but giving no
introductions; until after making known her wishes to the
magnificent officer of the day, she turned to her girls, and presented
Cadet-Captain Trueman. Then panted up the narrow staircase to the
visitors' room, which was hot, and not magnificent.

PARADE REST IN CAMP

Mrs. Ironwood and her fan at once absorbed the window, the two
girls stood shyly behind her; and back and forth before their eyes
went the slim grey figures in the area. Some who knew Mrs.
Ironwood and doffed their caps to her gave just a swift second
glance at the two new faces. For a cadet never stares, or does it so
surreptitiously from under his visor that nobody knows.
But the minutes seemed long. Mrs. Ironwood's fan plied back and
forth, the girls stood watching.
"What makes them all look just alike?" said Violet. "I should say that
man has been across six times already." Mrs. Ironwood laughed.
"Maybe he has," she said. "You'll bring the chaos to order in a day or
two. Look very monotonous, don't they? I suppose you'll not even
know Magnus when he comes."
But a little cry from both the girls answered that. Another grey figure
came hurrying across the open space, swung his cap high in air
beneath the window, and came tearing up the stairs.
After the first words, Mrs. Ironwood went back to her seat, and left
them to themselves, interviewing at more length some of her friends
below; but then she made a move.
"We must get out of here," she said. "There come more bonnets,
and there'll be more cadets, and we shan't have standing room."
"When the bugle blows," said Magnus. "I can't leave here till four
o'clock. But it's close on that now."
"And then we can have you all the rest of the afternoon," said Violet.
"No, little peach blossom, you cannot. There's a review on hand. I'll
take you down to the seats. There it goes—" And the sweet four
o'clock call rang out in front of barracks, repeated then at different
points, and answered by soft echoes from the hill.
The little party made their way out, and down among the old trees
by the officers' row, where already the seats were filling up. But
Magnus found them a good place, and himself stood in front;
mounting guard over his treasures with a joy and pride it was
pleasant to see. He quite ignored the suggestive looks that came
from other men in grey. Just now, he wanted his sisters all to
himself. And the way they gazed at him could not be told.
To see how he knew by instinct when an officer came by; instantly
whirling around to salute, to note how very often that cap came off
to some embodiment of fashion and finery, was a great study. For
Magnus was on tiptoe, and put in all the flourishes the law allowed.
Only at the sound of the first drum did his exalted state come down.
"That drummer ought to be hung at the sallyport," he said.
"But it is all so pretty," said Rose. "And so in keeping, Magnus."
"You do not know drums," he said. "That call means: 'Charlemagne
Kindred—and every other cadet out for a breath of fresh air—walk
straight off to barracks.'"
"Does it?" said Violet. "Then why don't you go? We'll walk over with
you."
"Sit still! Why don't I go?" and Mr. Kindred gave fresh utterance to
his disdain.
"Now it sounds again," said Rose. "Is that a second invitation to
'walk'?"
"No; this one says: 'Magnus Kindred—and every other man who is
enjoying himself—run!'"
"O, then, do go, dear!" pleaded the girls. "O, Magnus! do not be
late. See, those men are running."
But Magnus gave no sort of heed. He bowed to Miss Newcomb,
looked after the speeding grey coats, and remarked calmly:
"Let them run. They want practice." But when the next call sounded,
Magnus turned.
"That spells," he said: "'Magnus Kindred—and every other poor
fellow who doesn't mean to be skinned—scamper!'" and scamper he
certainly did. The two girls watched him, breathless and anxious.
"There are three ladies right in his way," said Violet. "Oh, I hope
they'll not stop him!"
But no, indeed; a cadet dodging a "late" is not so easily stopped.
Magnus knew them, took off his cap to them, spoke some words of
greeting, but never stayed his pace; and his sisters had the pleasure
of seeing him dive in through the sallyport before the drum said
another word. Then they looked at each other and laughed.
"Such a boy!" said Rose.
"But how he did run," said Violet. Then they both were silent with
intensest interest. For the old grey barracks presently took to itself
the well-known likeness of a beehive in swarming time, and ignorant
eyes could as little tell what was going on as the uninitiated can
guess that the bees are searching for their queen. Hanging round
the doorways, clustering in front, with new forms all the time
pouring out, until, like the tin pan of the farmer's wife, that
mysterious drum brought order, and they settled down in a long,
long line upon the sidewalk.
Just at this point, with all the dangerous element in safe bonds, Mrs.
Ironwood left her girls for a while and went for a chat on one of the
hospitable porches behind her. Several other people also moved
away, for a walk or a talk; and the vacant seats were taken by a
handful of girls just come on the ground, and who, noting the new
faces, were now in the keen pursuit of knowledge.
At first, however, they seemed more eager to give it, talking fast and
loud, and sometimes across the two young strangers who were
watching every movement on the plain. But when the march down
from barracks ended in another motionless line upon the green, and
each girl began to pick out her friends and favourites, despite the
confusing chin-straps, then it was impossible not to listen.
"Look at Mr. True," said one; "he's a mere mathematical line."
"He'd be adorable, if he wasn't such a poke," said another.
"I'd give more to see that man brought to terms!"
"What terms?"
"Unconditional surrender. Down on his knees."
"Mr. Randolph is just behind him," said the first. "And Mr. Crane is
fourth from the end in B Company."
"Which is Mr. Kindred?" said Rose, turning to her.
"Second man with the cross-belt. Do you know him?" said the young
lady, much surprised.
"I have met him several times."
"Well, anybody who knows Magnus Kindred after meeting him
'several times,' may go up head," said Miss Saucy.
"Is he a poke, too?" asked Violet, with a grave face.
"No, he's too wicked for that," said Miss Cray.
"Wicked?" said little Miss Wren. "Why, he's one in discipline all the
time."
"Well, he'd better be two, and have a few grains of civility," said Miss
Cray. "Absolutely he left me all standing in the middle of the plain
yesterday, just because that ridiculous drum chose to beat!"
"But that was a very good way to be left," said Rose merrily.
"Perhaps if you had been all falling, he would have stayed."
"Fine idea to work up!" said another girl, laughing, but Miss Cray
tossed her head.
"Nobody cared, either way," she said. "How do you know what
'perhaps' he would have done?"
"Why, we are both his sisters," said Violet. And for once in her life
Miss Cray was taken aback.
"Fancy it!" she said. "Where are you staying?"
"At the hotel."
"We are at Cranston's. Who is your chaperon?"
"Mrs. Ironwood."
Which was better care than Miss Cray herself could boast, and so
the force of circumstances dealt another blow.
"Well, don't serve me out too large a slice of humble pie," she said.
"I'm awfully fond of Mr. Kindred, myself. The trouble is, he's not so
awfully fond of me. And wounded hearts, you know!"
"If Mr. McLean were here, he'd say: 'Steady!'" remarked Miss Wren.
"Do you know Mr. McLean, too?" she said, turning to Violet.
"Yes."
"Met him 'several times'?"
"Yes."
"But you must come from the West?"
"There are quite a number of people out there," said Violet.
"And one can visit, even on a prairie," said Miss Cray politely. "But it
seems so odd."
Perhaps for a freer discussion of the oddity of things, that party
moved away, and Mrs. Ironwood came back to her charge. But social
duties still claimed her to such a degree that she hardly looked at
the review, and not at all at the girls, for a good while. Then in some
moment of silence, a soft, long-drawn breath made her turn her
head.
The cadets were just passing, double-timing round the square, and
the good lady saw that her two girls had hold of hands, and that the
eyes of both were full. What about? Only for one particular dress
coat with a white cross-belt, one particular pair of shoes that darted
past; the owner whereof was so far from feeling himself a hero that
he was just pronouncing under breath the whole review a mean
contrivance to keep men out in the sun. Ah, young brothers! have
you any faint vision of what your sisters see in you?
"Pull up your wraps, girls," said Mrs. Congressman. "It turns cool
here, the minute the sun drops behind the hill. And I suppose wild
horses wouldn't get you away before parade. Well, they'll have
dealings with that man."
The end of the battalion was just passing, one single cadet officer
bringing up the rear; and this man's sash had come untied. And as
he darted on, one long red streamer trailed gracefully behind him;
too heavy to float, unless with more wind astir.
The girls were in fits of merriment; only our two girls looked grave.
"Just think!" whispered Rose; "it might have been Magnus."
"But why doesn't he stop and tie it up?" said Violet.
"Stop and tie it up?" said Mrs. Congressman, who caught the words.
"Why, if his head was off, he couldn't stop to put it on. Not in a
review."
Between review and parade there was a charming bit of free time
when Magnus came down to see his sisters. Miss Cray and her party
took for granted he was coming also to see them, and there was
some bridling and handling of sugar-plum boxes. And it was quite a
shock, when Magnus, after bowing to them, turned away, and found
himself a seat between "those two Western girls," whom he could
see any time.
Sweet brief minutes; I wonder if unlimited free hours can ever have
the subtle charm that used to hang over the now-and-then release
from quarters?
Mr. Starr came up to claim acquaintance, and presently coaxed Rose
away to introduce her to the sidewalk, as he said; Cadet-Captain
Trueman appeared, preferring the same claim, though of so much
later date. And Miss Cray looked on.
As for my two girls, they were more than content; Violet finding the
grave, dark-browed Mr. True a very interesting person indeed; and
Rose so taken up with Mr. Starr's sallies of fun and comment, that
she missed all the admiring glances bestowed upon her own sweet
eyes and laughing mouth. The first drum came all too soon.
Starr went on to just the point where they had turned before, came
slowly back and led Rose to her seat; then standing before her and
going on with his talk. And Miss Cray listened.
"Mr. Trueman," she said presently, putting in her word, "we had a
wager about you last night."
"About me? That certainly speaks you all ladies of much leisure."
"Now, don't begin to preach," said Miss Freak. "Be good for once,
and tell us."
"And what, if you please?"
"The point was this," said Miss Saucy. "Kate said that before you will
go down on your knees to a woman, you must have a cushion a mile
high. The rest of us thought that perhaps a yard might do."
"Pardon me!" said Mr. Trueman, with some energy; "if ever I kneel
to a woman, I shall want no cushion!"
And the tall cadet captain bowed gravely to Violet, touched his cap
to the others, and walked away.
A quick clearance of grey coats from about the seats followed. Over
by the innocent-looking reveille gun stood two soldiers in blue, at
the foot of the flagstaff were two more. The flag showed off its
beauties, lifting, falling, floating away in circling folds upon the fitful
air; then drooping, a mere line of colour against the staff. Then
came a series of wild yells from the front of barracks, answering the
roll-call, and then parade.
In spite of the dignitaries who generally "assist" at a review, adding
all that position or plumage can give, they never get off anything at
West Point that is quite so good as an old-time dress parade. I use
my adjective wittingly, for—no disrespect to the new tactics, they
hurt the effect. To-night everything was perfect, even the music. The
band struck up "Money Musk," or some other time-honoured quick-
step, known in those happy days before "Boulanger" was heard of;
the grey files came down the green in absolute order, and drew up
in a long, unbroken, glancing line, before the seats.
The hills across the river were in a glory of sunshine, the higher
heads that sentinel the north entrance to the Highlands showed
sunlight and shadow, too. The river went silently along, you could
just hear the paddles of the Mary Powell, as she speeded round
Gee's Point on her northward course. All this, while the adjutant
dressed the line, and brought it to parade rest.
"Sound off!"
It matters little what they played then, for as the drum major raised
his baton and struck his attitude, and the throng of bandsmen went
nimbly after him, our two Western girls were absolutely and wholly
bewitched. To see the black plumes slanting off as one before the
breeze, with the stir of a red sash here and there, and the glinting of
breast-plates and bayonets and bell buttons in that long moveless
line. Then to behold the band of musicians getting tangled up in a
maze at the turn, but coming out all right, and playing for dear life
through it all,—they were so wrapped and lost, no wonder the gun
made them jump.
Then the wonder of the manual, to unwonted eyes; the comical
different voices in which the sergeants reported, with hand on heart
(supposedly), and the amused guesses as to how in Company D
there should be two privates absent and unaccounted for. Even the
jumble of the orders was delightful.
"Headquarters Military Academy, West Point, N. Y., May 10, 18—" so
much was generally plain. As also "Special Order. No. forty three-e-
e!" But whether it gave Cadet Nameless leave of absence for two
weeks, or said he was to be shot in two days, only the nature of the
case made clear. To their ears, it might as well have been the one as
the other.
The reading ends, the adjutant tucks the folded paper into the
breast of his dress coat, comes neatly round on one heel, and waves
his sword to the officer in charge.
"Sir, the orders are published."
"Dismiss the parade, sir!"
Another skilful pirouette, and the adjutant faces the line and
sheathes his sword.
"Parade dismissed!"
The swords of all the cadet officers rattle down into the scabbard,
the adjutant steps loftily back to his old place by the line.
"Forward! Guide centre! March!"
And with another gay burst of music, the cadet officers come
forward, salute the officer in charge, and disperse (in these days
draw up behind him); the long, grey line breaks into companies, the
music changes its measure, and away they all go to barracks, to the
sweet strains of "Pop Goes the Weasel!" Every right arm swings just
so, every black shoe sole displays its regulation state, in most
regulation order. But how many furtive blessings brushed the head
of Cadet Kindred as he went by, that obtuse young fellow never
guessed.
Tea at the hotel, after all this, was prosaic enough, but doubtless the
most soaring bird comes down to rest, and finds the lower lands
quite bearable, with further flight in prospect. So the two girls
relished their bread and butter and strawberries with no alloy, for
was not Magnus coming after supper for a walk? Magnus, and
perhaps two more.
"Everything is so unusual," Rose said; "it makes one feel quite
distinguished. Think of walking 'till call to quarters!"
"Yes, think of it," said Mrs. Congressman, carefully creaming her
black tea. "Then you've been in the cars night and day since
Monday. You must excuse me, young ladies. I know girls are
untirable where cadets are concerned, but I am too old a bird for
that sort of chaff, and I am going straight to my bed, as soon as I
see you off. With your brother along, you'll not need me."
"May we sit on the piazza after we come back? Or must we go to
bed, too?" asked Violet.
"Sit there? Yes. Must you go to bed? No. Sit there and gaze at the
barracks till shutting up time comes, and then go upstairs and carry
it on from your window. You're not obliged to go to bed at all, while
you are at West Point. Who's coming to-night?"
"Magnus, of course, and Mr. Trueman. And Mr. McLean said he
would, if he could."
"Three for two girls; you begin well. There, they are coming out, and
you can go stand at the fence, and I can go to my bed."
"Why should we stand at the fence?"
"'Mahomet and the mountain,'" said Mrs. Congressman. "Bell buttons
cannot come any nearer, without a special permit."
"But I do not like that," said Violet, drawing back. "You know you
bade us not. It looks as if we were waiting for somebody."
"Silly girl! That is just what you are doing: now isn't then. Come, I'll
see you safe to the fence."
So under that broad, protecting shadow the girls went down the
walk; shy, and glad, and expectant, and just a trifle afraid; for were
there not four dark figures coming rapidly across the plain? It was all
so strange and entrancing; the straight shadows, the measured step.
"Ah, here you are!" cried Magnus. "Good-evening, Mrs. Ironwood."
"How d'ye do again," said that lady. "How d'ye do, Mr. Trueman, and
Mr. McLean—and, as I'm alive!—Mr. Bouché! I suppose two of you
have come for me. I'm so broad, you think one wouldn't hear what
the other was saying, and you could both fool me to your heart's
content."
There was a laugh and a protest (very honest, so far as the coming
for her was concerned), and then the young people turned away,
and Mrs. Congressman went to her much coveted repose.
"She fulfils her destiny," said Mr. Bouché, as he placed himself by
Rose. "The only possible use of a chaperon is to go to sleep."
 XLIX
FLIRTATION AND OTHER PLACES
When feelings were young, and the world was new.
—Pringle.

There is no need to describe that walk, nor the many that followed
it. Anybody who has been a girl—or had care of a girl—at West
Point, knows without telling; though doubtless the walks vary
according to the girl. But hither and thither, then as now, went Peace
and War, in endless new combinations. Down among the grey rocks
and green mosses of Flirtation, where the tide flowed by as softly as
the minutes, and all the pretty whispers sounded true. Or up on the
old fort; green enough once, but in these days pathetic as well as
lovely in its helpless decline, and where much history might have
been talked, and was not. Kosciusko's garden, Fort Clinton, even the
Officer's Row—what tales they might tell, and are silent.
I must do Mrs. Ironwood the justice to say, that she did not fulfil her
destiny after that night, so far as it involved going to sleep when she
should be on duty. And she did the duty well, as befits long habit.
Always accidentally on hand; keen-eyed, though taking no notice;
interfering when she must, in a way that was wholly pleasant—and
unmanageable. The two girls, so unlearned in the world, could not
have had a more wisely careful friend. Violet never guessed how it
was that she was generally free to walk with Mr. Trueman, nor why
Mr. Clinker always fell to the lot of Mrs. Ironwood herself. "She must
be very fond of him," thought the girls. And Magnus was careful,
too, in a way, and would by no means present everybody he knew to
his two young sisters.
So within that twofold invisible fence Violet and Rose moved joyously
on, and had—as they wrote home—"the very loveliest time that girls
could."
And it became plain to lynx-eyed Mrs. Congressman, that Magnus
soon ceased to be the only grey figure on the horizon. His walks
with other girls were borne meekly; and the days when he was on
guard called forth less lamentation. In short (in the prettiest sort of
way) the cadet fever had claimed our two young Westerners. As how
should it not, when they were in such demand? Men did not stand
round them to see "what those girls would do next," the poorest sort
of a compliment; but came for the real liking and appreciation of the
fair womanliness, of which even faulty men have an idea—or an
ideal. Then fresh common sense is very pleasant when you find it;
and if Rose was thought too sensible by some—or too sedate, Violet
was as full of fun and frolic as any young, unspoiled nature ought to
be; so they set each other off. But the fun was not pointed with
slang, nor did the frolic show out in shrieks of laughter, or in familiar
ways. It never occurred to either of them that it was witty to say
"Get out!" or ladylike to beg for buttons and buckles. Or interesting,
to give a kiss to some man who was unmannerly enough to ask it.
But nobody dared that of them.
Mrs. Ironwood's "sleepy" eyes saw all these things; saw also, by
degrees, some others. She could tell, to a time, how often Cadet-
Captain Trueman had walked with Violet, as also that Violet seemed
quite unconscious that he came oftener than other men.
"Great pity!" said Mrs. Ironwood in her heart, waving her fan there
on the hotel piazza. "He's the best fellow living—and she's the girl of
girls for him. But she hasn't a sou—and he hasn't; it would never do.
I did try to keep Rose in the way—but my! he'd get round a standing
army. Study, drills, examination, don't head him off one bit. A fine
piece of three weeks' work! And in ten days more he graduates, and
there's an end."
And just at that very time, this is what was going on among the
casemates at Fort Putnam.
"Do you think you could live on a second lieutenant's pay?" Trueman
was saying. "It is not much, you know—but then at first we should
probably be stationed at some small one-company post, where it
would not be needful to make a show."
"I have never lived where it was needful, or possible, to make a
show," said Violet, with a bit of a laugh at the idea of being
"stationed" anywhere. "But you know I have had no chance to think
of anything yet."
"Yes, of course," said Trueman; "it's all very sudden to you. But the
first minute I saw you I knew I had met my fate, and I have done
nothing but think, ever since. Thinking out the fairest story that ever
came into any man's heart. And I am going so soon. Write home to-
night, will you, Miss Violet, and get leave to promise?"
And then with the sound of coming footsteps, the two drew apart a
little, and walked decorously down the hill; Trueman screening
himself carefully with Violet's blue parasol from the sun without, and
she conscious only of a strange new sunlight within.
Rose, meanwhile, was having a different sort of talk with Mr.
Bouché; an American, despite his French name.
He was a handsome fellow, stood well up in his class, and was
proficient in more than West Point learning; but as much adrift as
any unpiloted boat in all matters of faith, and some of practice. Why
he sought out Rose Kindred (as he had done persistently from the
day she came) it would be hard to tell, unless from that peculiar
masculine contrariness which, as Mrs. Ironwood phrased it, "makes
Arctic men always swear by the South Pole."
It was Mr. Bouché's special delight to get Rose away from everyone
else, find her a splendid seat in some leafy nook, throw himself
down on the grass where he must needs look up and so could
properly gaze into her face, and then draw her into an argument. I
do not know that Rose was more wedded to her opinions than other
women, but she knew what she believed, which they do not all. And
when the point was of importance she could fight, and fight well;
zeal and love of the truth holding their own fearlessly against more
polished weapons. Even as did the old "Queen's Arm" in the hand of
one of her ancestors at Concord.
On this particular afternoon, every place seemed taken. Gee's Point,
of course, but also the seat by the river edge, and the almost
unscalable rocks, and the grey stones that lie about the way to
Battery Knox.
"Never mind," Rose said. "I am not tired. I would just as leave walk."
"Tired! You? No," said Mr. Bouché; "you are the most rested creature
that ever lived. But I am a lazy fellow, and I want a comfortable
place, where you can lecture me."
"Upon your laziness?"
"Upon what you will. I need it all round."
"There will not be time for an all-round lecture before parade."
"Bother parade!" said Mr. Bouché. "Why need you remind a fellow of
parade, just when he's happy? Here—come this way. Now we can
dive through these bushes—look out for your dress, Miss Rose!—and
we can sit on the rock and be out of the way of all the spoons. And
Catkins himself couldn't find us."
Laughing at him, guarding her dress, following through the tangle
like a true fresh-air girl, Rose presently forgot everything in the
loveliness that was all about. Behind them, trees and bushes were
both shade and screen; but in front there was only rock, river, and
hill. The grey ledge on which they stood took a sudden dip almost at
their feet, and went down, down, sheer and smooth, with little to
break the line till it ended in a low fringe of riverside bushes. And
the stream itself, curling rapidly round Gee's Point, went in full flow
through the broadening channel towards Anthony's Nose and the
"Race." One or two sailing vessels beat up against the breeze; from
under the fringe of bushes came the measured dip of oars. The east-
side hills, with their wavy outline, caught the full glory of the sinking
sun.
"Oh, how beautiful!" Rose cried.
"Yes!" said Mr. Bouché, who had been eyeing the girl much as she
studied the landscape; "just what I was thinking."
"It is like nothing I ever saw anywhere else," said Rose.
"Nor I," assented her companion.
"You see, I have never been just here before," said Rose, turning at
the somewhat peculiar tone of voice. "Have you?"
"I am not sure—that I have," said Mr. Bouché, considering with
himself whether certain sensations in the region of his heart could
possibly (in a cadet of such wide experience) mean something new.
"It rather seems to me not. What are you going to lecture me about,
Miss Rose?"
"Nothing."
"Oh, yes, you are!" cried Bouché, rousing up. "That's not fair. It is in
the bond that you are to lecture."
"Who signed the bond?"
"I—for self and partner," said Bouché audaciously.
"'Himself and he,'" said Rose, quoting Cowper.
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