I Married a Ranger

, but in all the years since I hung my stocking in front of the big fireplace in the old home I have never learned to face Christmas Eve in a stra

and it was decided to make a home of

d Company for the makin's. Ranger Fisk opined that turkey dressing without oysters in it would be a total loss as far as he was concerned, so we ordered a ga

y, he got another vote. This time he called for mashed turnips and creamed onions. The Superintendent, Colonel White, being an Englishman, asked

hen the time came I produced a big, rich fruit cake, baked back home by my o

em rode down the icy trail to Indian Gardens and broug

nning of an hour of the kind of music one remembers from childhood. Just as each one had chosen his favorite dish, now each one selected his favorite Christmas song. When I asked for "Little Town of Bethlehem" nobody hesitated over the words. We all knew it better than we do

; Ranger Fisk scaled Table Mountain, lying back of Capetown, and there picked a tiny white flower which he had pressed in the Bible presented to him there that day; each sailor in port had received a Bible that day with this inscription: "Capetown, Africa, Christ's Birthday, D

dead one?" Range

one Government man, mysteriously, and hadn't any more to spare.

a study of the ailment, and was due to arrive just before Christmas. Days passed into weeks and still he didn't show up. Inquiries to Washington disclosed that he had started as per schedule. Tracing his journey step by

at happened to

e buffalo farm. We stalled time and again, and he sat in lordly indifference while we pushed and shoveled out. We seemed hopelessly anchored in one drift, and from his perch where he sat swaddled up like a mummy came his 'Vy don't you carry a por

went on our way rejoicing. He won our respect at the buffalo farm for he soon discovered the ger

than vaccinate buffalo." He, too, had spent years in foreign war

t the room. He came back presently, and White Mountain s

eir fancy stitching, and funny high heels just like t

mouthed, and stiff-necked and hell-bent on having his own way about things. I didn't know all that when I saw him this Christmas Day. To me he was perfect. He was round and fat, shiny black, with a white star in his forehead, and four white feet. One eye was blue, and the o

t of the day, but the others reminded me it was time to lig

ark, regardless of race or color, was remembered. Little brown brothers, whose Filipino mothers worked in the laundry, found themselves possessors of strange toys; Navajo babies and Hopi cupids from the Hopi House were well supplied. One small Hopi lass wailed loudly at the look of the

wn to the Fred Harvey Recreation Room a

to the house to saddle him. While I dressed up in my new boots I overheard the conversati

" very firmly and casu

e saccharine. A slight silence fell while the cinches were being tightened, then-heels beating a tune on the s

rouble with

None whatever

eased? Sore wrists and a strained disposition were the price I paid for winning the battle. He just went wild if he could race with another horse. Of course W

y to get him to stay on the ground with the other horses. He came home fully determined that I must trade my Christmas gift f

one of the men had a wonderful idea. He said something to the others, and while they giggled he blew one of the bags full of air and exploded it right under my horse. Of course Tar Baby bolted, and even as he ran away I

hose tourists out of the Park, and they

this Canyon," one complained, and

er West told him grimly. "You'd probably push

ss he thought if the horse hadn't killed me with such a good chance

he time you think you have one characteristically placed, you put your finger down and he isn't there. Charge one with dishonesty, and the next week he will ride a hundred mile

ried the pelt back to the Canyon. You won't find many white men with that much grit! A tourist from New York saw the pelt and coveted it. He offered twenty-five dollars. Neewah wanted fifty. The tourist tried to beat him down. There wasn't any argument about it. The whole conversation was a monologue. The Indian saw that the tourist wanted the skin badly, so he just sat and stare

cougar soon afterward. Not i

ood in his eye-one of his pets had been dragged down under the Rim and half devoured by a giant cougar. A hunt was staged at once. I was told to stay at home, but that didn't stop me from going. Ranger Fisk always saddled Tar Baby for me when everybody else thought it best to leave me behind. So I wasn't far away when the big cat was treed by the dogs. He sat close to the trunk of the dead tree, d