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diff --git a/29129-h/29129-h.htm b/29129-h/29129-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..70b8c9b --- /dev/null +++ b/29129-h/29129-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8401 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Boy Settlers, by Noah Brooks</title> +<style type="text/css"> + @media screen { + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none;border-top:thin dashed silver;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + } + @media print { + hr.pb {border:none;page-break-after: always;} + .pagenum { display:none; } + } + a {text-decoration: none;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center; width: auto;} + .figtag {height: 1px;} + .chsp {margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em;} + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + hr.toprule {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; clear:both;} + .caption {font-size: 90%; text-align:center;} + h3 {font-size:1.0em;} + h1,h2,h3 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal;} + p.tp {font-size:1em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-align:center;} + h1 {font-size:1.4em;} + h2 {font-size:1.2em;} + h1.pg {text-align:center; font-weight:bold; font-size: 190%; } + h3.pg {text-align:center; font-weight:bold; font-size: 110%; } + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} +</style> +</head> +<body> +<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Boy Settlers, by Noah Brooks, Illustrated +by W. A. Rogers</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Boy Settlers</p> +<p> A Story of Early Times in Kansas</p> +<p>Author: Noah Brooks</p> +<p>Release Date: June 15, 2009 [eBook #29129]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOY SETTLERS***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3 class="pg">E-text prepared by Roger Frank<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h1>THE BOY SETTLERS</h1> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p style='margin-left:0.0em; margin-right:0.0em; text-align:center'>In Uniform Style.<br /></p> +<table style='margin: auto' summary=''><tr><td> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'> +THE BOY SETTLERS. By NOAH BROOKS. $1.25.<br /> +THE BOY EMIGRANTS. By NOAH BROOKS. $1.25.<br /> +A NEW MEXICO DAVID. By C. F. LUMMIS. $1.25.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/set-fpc.jpg' alt='' title='' width='399' height='541' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span class='smcap'>Sure Enough, There They Were, Twenty-five or Thirty Indians.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:2em;margin-top:20px;margin-bottom:60px;'>THE BOY SETTLERS</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:80px;'>A STORY OF EARLY TIMES IN KANSAS</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;margin-bottom:15px;'>BY</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:larger;margin-bottom:60px;'>NOAH BROOKS</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-style:italic;margin-bottom:80px;'>ILLUSTRATED BY W. A. ROGERS</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:20px;'>NEW YORK<br />CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS<br />1891</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;'>COPYRIGHT, 1891,<br />BY CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS.</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp'>TO</p> +<div style='text-align:center'> +<img alt='John Greenleaf Whittier' src='images/set-ded.png' /> +</div> +<p class='tp'>Whose patriotic songs were the inspiration of the<br /> +prototypes of<br /><br /> +THE BOY SETTLERS<br /><br /> +This little book is affectionately inscribed</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-size:smaller'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'> </td> + <td valign='top' align='right'><span style='font-size:smaller'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>I.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>The Settlers, and Whence They Came. </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_I_THE_SETTLERS_AND_WHENCE_THEY_CAME'>1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>II.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Fire Spreads.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_II_THE_FIRE_SPREADS'>9</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>III.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>On the Disputed Territory.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_III_ON_THE_DISPUTED_TERRITORY'>20</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Among the Delawares.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IV_AMONG_THE_DELAWARES'>36</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>V.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Tidings from the Front.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_V_TIDINGS_FROM_THE_FRONT'>53</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Westward Ho!</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VI_WESTWARD_HO'>62</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>At the Dividing of the Ways.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VII_AT_THE_DIVIDING_OF_THE_WAYS'>72</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Settlers at Home.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII_THE_SETTLERS_AT_HOME'>85</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Setting the Stakes.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IX_SETTING_THE_STAKES'>95</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>X.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Drawing the First Furrow.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_X_DRAWING_THE_FIRST_FURROW'>105</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>An Indian Trail.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XI_AN_INDIAN_TRAIL'>116</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>House-Building.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XII_HOUSEBUILDING'>126</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Lost!</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIII_LOST'>134</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>More House-Building.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIV_MORE_HOUSEBUILDING'>150</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Play Comes After Work.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XV_PLAY_COMES_AFTER_WORK'>158</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>A Great Disaster.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVI_A_GREAT_DISASTER'>181</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Wolf at the Door.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVII_THE_WOLF_AT_THE_DOOR'>187</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Discouragement.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVIII_DISCOURAGEMENT'>200</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Down the Big Muddy.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIX_DOWN_THE_BIG_MUDDY'>215</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Stranded Near Home.</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XX_STRANDED_NEAR_HOME'>236</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h3>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h3> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Illustrations' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<col style='width:75%;' /> +<col style='width:25%;' /> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'></td> + <td valign='top' align='right'><span style='font-size:smaller'>TO FACE PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span class='smcap'>Sure Enough, There They Were, Twenty-five or Thirty Indians.</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_1'><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span class='smcap'>In Camp at Quindaro. The Poem of “The Kansas Emigrants.”</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_2'>34</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span class='smcap'>The Yankee Emigrant.</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_3'>54</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span class='smcap'>Oscar was put up High on the Stump of a Tree, and, Violin in Hand, “Raised the Tune.”</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_4'>60</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span class='smcap'>The Polls at Libertyville. the Woburn Man is “Hoisted” Over the Cabin.</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_5'>70</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span class='smcap'>The Settlers’ First Home in the Deserted Cabin.</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_6'>90</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span class='smcap'>Younkins Argued that Settlers were Entitled to all they Could Get and Hold.</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_7'>102</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span class='smcap'>Sandy Seized a Huge Piece of the Freshly-Turned Sod, and Waving It Over His Head Cried, “Three Cheers for the First Sod of Bleeding Kansas!”</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_8'>106</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span class='smcap'>Making “Shakes” with a “Frow.”</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_9'>128</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span class='smcap'>Filling in the Chinks in the Walls of the Log-cabin.</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_10'>142</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span class='smcap'>Lost!</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_11'>146</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span class='smcap'>They were Feasting Themselves on One of the Delicious Watermelons that now so Plentifully Dotted their Own Corn-field.</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_12'>160</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span class='smcap'>He Gently Touched the Animal with the Toe of His Boot and Cried, “All by My Own Self</span>.”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_13'>176</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span class='smcap'>A Great Disaster.</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_14'>188</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span class='smcap'>The Retreat to Battles’s.</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_15'>194</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“<span class='smcap'>Home, Sweet Home.</span>”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_16'>204</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2>THE BOY SETTLERS.</h2> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_I_THE_SETTLERS_AND_WHENCE_THEY_CAME' id='CHAPTER_I_THE_SETTLERS_AND_WHENCE_THEY_CAME'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>The Settlers, and Whence They Came.</h3> +</div> +<p>There were five of them, all told; three boys +and two men. I have mentioned the boys first +because there were more of them, and we shall +hear most from them before we have got through +with this truthful tale. They lived in the town +of Dixon, on the Rock River, in Lee County, +Illinois. Look on the map, and you will find +this place at a point where the Illinois Central +Railroad crosses the Rock; for this is a real town +with real people. Nearly sixty years ago, when +there were Indians all over that region of the +country, and the red men were numerous where +the flourishing States of Illinois, Iowa, and Wisconsin +are now, John Dixon kept a little ferry at +the point of which I am now speaking, and it was +known as Dixon’s Ferry. Even when he was not +an old man, Dixon was noted for his long and +flowing white hair, and the Indians called him +Na-chu-sa, “the White-haired.” In 1832 the Sac +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2' name='page_2'></a>2</span> +tribe of Indians, with their chief Black Hawk, rose +in rebellion against the Government, and then there +happened what is now called the Black Hawk war.</p> +<p>In that war many men who afterwards became +famous in the history of the United States were +engaged in behalf of the government. One of +these was Zachary Taylor, afterwards better known +as “Rough and Ready,” who fought bravely in the +Mexican war and subsequently became President +of the United States. Another was Robert Anderson, +who, at the beginning of the war of the Rebellion, +in 1861, commanded the Union forces in Fort +Sumter when it was first fired upon. Another was +Jefferson Davis, who, in the course of human +events, became President of the Southern Confederacy. +A fourth man, destined to be more +famous than any of the others, was Abraham Lincoln. +The first three of these were officers in the +army of the United States. Lincoln was at first a +private soldier, but was afterwards elected captain +of his company, with whom he had come to the +rescue of the white settlers from the lower part +of the State.</p> +<p>The war did not last long, and there was not +much glory gained by anybody in it. Black Hawk +was beaten, and that country had peace ever after. +For many years, and even unto this day, I make no +doubt, the early settlers of the Rock River country +loved to tell stories of the Black Hawk war, of +their own sufferings, exploits, hardships, and adventures. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span> +Father Dixon, as he was called, did +not choose to talk much about himself, for he +was a modest old gentleman, and was not given, +as they used to say, to “blowing his own horn,” +but his memory was a treasure-house of delightful +anecdotes and reminiscences of those old times; +and young and old would sit around the comfortable +stove of a country store, during a dull winter +evening, drinking in tales of Indian warfare and +of the “old settlers” that had been handed down +from generation to generation.</p> +<p>It is easy to see how boys brought up in an +atmosphere like this, rich in traditions of the long-past +in which the early settlement of the country +figured, should become imbued with the same spirit +of adventure that had brought their fathers from +the older States to this new region of the West. +Boys played at Indian warfare over the very +ground on which they had learned to believe the +Sacs and Foxes had skirmished years and years +before. They loved to hear of Black Hawk and +his brother, the Prophet, as he was called; and I +cannot tell you with what reverence they regarded +Father Dixon, the white-haired old man who had +actually talked and traded with the famous Indians, +and whose name had been given him as a title of +respect by the great Black Hawk himself.</p> +<p>Among the boys who drank in this sort of lore +were Charlie and Alexander Howell and their +cousin Oscar Bryant. Charlie, when he had arrived +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span> +at his eighteenth birthday, esteemed himself +a man, ready to put away childish things; and yet, +in his heart, he dearly loved the traditions of the +Indian occupation of the country, and wished that +he had been born earlier, so that he might have +had a share in the settlement of the Rock River +region, its reclamation from the wilderness, and +the chase of the wild Indian. As for Alexander, +commonly known as “Sandy,” he had worn out +a thick volume of Cooper’s novels before he was +fifteen years old, at which interesting point in his +career I propose to introduce him to you. Oscar +was almost exactly as many years and days old as +his cousin. But two boys more unlike in appearance +could not be found anywhere in a long summer +day. Sandy was short, stubbed, and stocky +in build. His face was florid and freckled, and +his hair and complexion, like his name, were +sandy. Oscar was tall, slim, wiry, with a long, +oval face, black hair, and so lithe in his motions +that he was invariably cast for the part of the +leading Indian in all games that required an aboriginal +character.</p> +<p>Mr. Howell carried on a transportation business, +until the railroads came into the country and his +occupation was gone. Then he began to consider +seriously the notion of going further west with +his boys to get for them the same chances of early +forestalling the settlement of the country that he +had had in Illinois. In the West, at least in those +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span> +days, nearly everybody was continually looking +for a yet further West to which they might emigrate. +Charlie Howell was now a big and willing, +good-natured boy; he ought to be striking out for +himself and getting ready to earn his own living. +At least, so his father thought.</p> +<p>Mr. Bryant was engaged in a profitable business, +and he had no idea of going out into another +West for himself or his boy. Oscar was likely to +be a scholar, a lawyer, or a minister, perhaps. +Even at the age of fifteen, he had written “a +piece” which the editor of the Dixon <i>Telegraph</i> +had thought worthy of the immortality of print +in his columns.</p> +<p>But about this time, the Northern States were +deeply stirred by the struggle in the new Territory +of Kansas to decide whether freedom or slavery +should be established therein. This was in +1854 and thereabout. The Territory had been +left open and unoccupied for a long time. Now +settlers were pouring into it from adjacent States, +and the question whether freedom should be the +rule, or whether slave-holding was to be tolerated, +became a very important one. Missouri and Arkansas, +being the States nearest to Kansas, and +holding slavery to be a necessity, furnished the +largest number of emigrants who went to vote in +favor of bringing slavery into the new Territory; +but others of the same way of thinking came from +more distant States, even as far off as South Carolina, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span> +all bent on voting for slavery in the laws that +were to be made. For the most part, these people +from the slave States did not go prepared to make +their homes in Kansas or Nebraska; for some went +to the adjoining Territory of Nebraska, which was +also ready to have slavery voted up or down. +The newcomers intended to stay just long enough +to vote and then return to their own homes.</p> +<p>The people of the free States of the North heard +of all this with much indignation. They had +always supposed that the new Territories were to +be free from slavery. They saw that if slavery +should be allowed there, by and by, when the two +Territories would become States, they would be +slave States, and then there would be more slave +States than free States in the Union. So they +held meetings, made speeches, and passed resolutions, +denouncing this sort of immigration as wrong +and wicked. Then immigrants from Iowa, Illinois, +and other Northern States, even as far off +as Massachusetts, sold their homes and household +goods and started for the Promised Land, as many +of them thought it to be. For the men in Kansas +who were opposed to slavery wrote and sent far +and wide papers and pamphlets, setting forth in +glowing colors the advantages of the new and +beautiful country beyond the Missouri River, open +to the industry and enterprise of everybody. Soon +the roads and highways of Iowa were dotted with +white-topped wagons of immigrants journeying to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span> +Kansas, and long lines of caravans, with families +and with small knots of men, stretched their way +across the country nearest to the Territory.</p> +<p>Some of these passed through Dixon, and the +boys gazed with wonder at the queer inscriptions +that were painted on the canvas covers of the +wagons; they longed to go with the immigrants, +and taste the sweets of a land which was represented +to be full of wild flowers, game in great +abundance, and fine streams, and well-wooded hills +not far away from the water. They had heard +their elders talk of the beauties of Kansas, and of +the great outrage that was to be committed on that +fair land by carrying slavery into it; and although +they did not know much about the politics of the +case, they had a vague notion that they would like +to have a hand in the exciting business that was +going on in Kansas.</p> +<p>Both parties to this contest thought they were +right. Men who had been brought up in the slave +States believed that slavery was a good thing––good +for the country, good for the slave-owner, +and even good for the slave. They could not +understand how anybody should think differently +from them. But, on the other hand, those who +had never owned slaves, and who had been born +and brought up in the free States, could not be +brought to look upon slavery as anything but a +very wicked thing. For their part, they were willing +(at least, some of them were) to fight rather +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span> +than consent that the right of one man to own +another man should be recognized in the Territories +of Kansas and Nebraska. Some of these started +at once for the debatable land; others helped their +neighbors to go, and many others stayed at home +and talked about it.</p> +<p>Mrs. Bryant, Oscar’s mother, said: “Dear me, +I am tired and sick of hearing about ‘bleeding +Kansas.’ I do wish, husband, you would find +something else to talk about before Oscar. You +have got him so worked up that I shouldn’t be the +least bit surprised if he were to start off with some +of those tired-looking immigrants that go traipsing +through the town day by day.” Mrs. Bryant was +growing anxious, now that her husband was so +much excited about the Kansas-Nebraska struggle, +as it was called, he could think of nothing else.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_II_THE_FIRE_SPREADS' id='CHAPTER_II_THE_FIRE_SPREADS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> +<h3>THE FIRE SPREADS.</h3> +</div> +<p>One fine morning in May, Mr. Bryant was standing +at his front gate watching for his brother-in-law, +Mr. Howell, to come down the street.</p> +<p>He held a newspaper in his hand, and with this, +loosely rolled, he was impatiently tapping on the +gate as Mr. Howell drew near. Evidently something +had happened to disturb him.</p> +<p>“See here, Aleck,” he exclaimed, as soon as his +brother-in-law was within the sound of his voice, +“I can stand this sort of thing no longer. I’m +bound to go to Kansas. I’ve been thinking it +over, and I have about made up my mind to go. +Brubaker will take my store and the good-will of +the concern. Oscar is wild to go, and his mother +is perfectly able to take care of the house while I +am getting ready for her to come out. What +d’ye say? Will you go too?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Mr. Howell, slowly, “you nearly +take my breath away! What’s happened to stir +you up so?”</p> +<p>“Just listen to this!” cried the other, “just +listen!” and, unfolding his newspaper, he read, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span> +with glowing cheeks and kindling eyes, an account +of an attack made by some of the “pro-slavery +men,” as they were named, on a party of free-State +immigrants who had attempted to cross the +river near Kansas City. His voice trembled with +excitement, and when he had finished reading, he +asked his companion what he thought of that.</p> +<p>Mr. Howell looked pensively down the street, +now embowered with the foliage of early summer, +noted the peaceful aspect of the village, and the +tranquil picture which gardens, cottages, and sauntering +groups of school-children presented, and +then said slowly, “I never was much of a hand +at shooting, Charles, leastways, shooting at folks; +and I don’t know that I could take steady aim at +a man, even if I knew he was a Border Ruffian +out gunning for me. But I’m with you, Charles. +Charlie and Sandy can do a heap sight better in +Kansas, after things get settled, than they can +here. This place is too old; there’s too much +competition, and the boys will not have any show +if they stay here. But what does Amanda say?”</p> +<p>Now, Amanda was Mr. Bryant’s wife, Mr. Aleck +Howell’s sister. When Aleck asked this question, +the two men looked at each other for a moment, +queerly and without speaking.</p> +<p>“Well, she’ll hate to part with Oscar; he’s the +apple of her eye, as it were. But I guess she will +listen to reason. When I read this piece in the +paper to her this morning, at the breakfast-table, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span> +she was as mad as a wet hen. As for Oscar, he’s +so fired up about it that he is down in the wood-shed +chopping wood to blow off steam. Hear him?” +And Mr. Bryant laughed quietly, notwithstanding +his rising anger over the news of the day.</p> +<p>At that moment Sandy came whooping around +the corner, intent on overtaking a big yellow dog, +his constant companion,––Bose by name,––who +bounded along far in advance of the boy. “See +here, Sandy,” said his uncle, “how would you like +to go to Kansas with your father, Oscar, Charlie, +and myself?”</p> +<p>“To Kansas? shooting buffaloes, deer, Indians, +and all that? To Kansas? Oh, come, now, Uncle +Charles, you don’t mean it.”</p> +<p>“But I do mean it, my laddie,” said the elder +man, affectionately patting the freckled cheek of +the lad. “I do mean it, and if you can persuade +your father to go along and take you and Charlie +with him, we’ll make up a party––just we five––that +will scare the Border Ruffians ’way into the +middle of next year.” Then, with a more serious +air, he added, “This is a fight for freedom, my +boy, and every man and every boy who believes in +God and Liberty can find a chance to help. I’m +sure <i>we</i> can.” This he said with a certain sparkle +of his eye that may have meant mischief to any +Border Ruffian that might have been there to see +and hear.</p> +<p>As for Sandy, he turned two or three hand-springs +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +by way of relieving his feelings; then, +having once more assured himself that the two +men had serious thoughts of migrating to Kansas, +he rushed off to the wood-shed to carry the wonderful +news to Oscar. Dropping his axe, the lad +listened with widened eyes to the story that Sandy +had to tell.</p> +<p>“Do you know, Sandy,” he said, with an air of +great wisdom, “I thought there was something in +the wind. Oh, I never saw father so roused as he +was when he read that story in the Chicago <i>Press +and Tribune</i> this morning. Why, I thought he’d +just get up and howl when he had read it out to +mother. Jimmini! Do you really suppose that +he will go? And take us? And Uncle Aleck? +Oh, wouldn’t that be too everlastingly bully for +anything?” Oscar, as you will see, was given to +the use of slang, especially when under great excitement. +The two boys rushed back to the gate, +where the brothers-in-law were still talking eagerly +and in undertones.</p> +<p>“If your mother and Aunt Amanda will consent, +I guess we will go,” said Mr. Bryant, with a smile +on his face as he regarded the flushed cheeks and +eager eyes of Sandy and Oscar. Sandy’s father +added: “And I’ll answer for your mother, my +son. She and I have talked this thing over many +a time, more on your account and Charlie’s than +for the sake of ‘bleeding Kansas,’ however. I’m +bound to say that. Every man is in honor bound +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +to do his duty by the country and by the good +cause; but I have got to look after my boys first.” +And the father lovingly laid his hand on Sandy’s +sturdy shoulder. “Do you think you could fight, +if the worst comes to the worst, Sandy, boy?”</p> +<p>Of course the lad protested confidently that he +could fight; certainly he could protect his rights +and his father’s rights, even with a gun, if that +should be found necessary. But he admitted that, +on the whole, he would rather shoot buffaloes and +antelope, both of which species of large game he +had already learned were tolerably plentiful in +Kansas.</p> +<p>“Just think of it, Oscar, we might have some +real Indian-fighting out there, like that Father +Dixon and the rest of the old settlers had in the +time of the Black Hawk war.”</p> +<p>His father assured him, however, that there was +no longer any danger from the red man in Kansas. +The wild Indians were now far out on the frontier, +beyond the region to which emigrants would probably +go in search of homestead lands for settlement. +Sandy looked relieved at this explanation. +He was not anxious for fighting with anybody. +Fun was more to his liking.</p> +<p>The two mothers, when they were informed of +the decision of the male members of the family, +made very little opposition to the emigration +scheme. In fact, Mrs. Howell had really felt for +some time past that her boys would be better provided +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span> +for in a new country. She had been one of +the “old settlers” of Dixon, having been brought +out from the interior of New York when she and +her brother were small children. She had the +same spirit of adventure that he had, and, although +she remembered very well the privations and the +discomforts of those early days, it was more with +amusement than sorrow that she recalled them to +mind, now that they were among the traditions of +long-past years. The two young Howells were +never weary of hearing their mother tell of the +time when she killed a wildcat with her father’s +rifle, or of her walking fifteen miles and back to +buy herself a bonnet-ribbon to wear to her first +ball in the court-house. Now her silent influence +made it easier for the Kansas Exodus (as they +already called their scheme) to be accepted all +around.</p> +<p>The determination of the two families to migrate +made some stir in the town. It was yet a small +place, and everybody knew every other body’s +business. The Bryants and Howells were among +the “old families,” and their momentous step +created a little ripple of excitement among their +friends and acquaintances. The boys enjoyed the +talk and the gossip that arose around them, and +already considered themselves heroes in a small +way. With envious eyes and eager faces, their +comrades surrounded them, wherever they went, +asking questions about their outfit, their plans, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +and their future movements. Every boy in Dixon +looked on the three prospective boy settlers as the +most fortunate of all their young playfellows.</p> +<p>“I wish my father would catch the ‘Kansas +fever,’” said Hiram Fender, excitedly. “Don’t +you suppose your father could give it to him, +Charlie? Do you suppose your uncle would take +me along if Dad would let me go? Oh, wouldn’t +that be just gaudy, if I could go! Then there +would be four of us boys. Try it on him.”</p> +<p>But the two families resolutely attended to their +own business, asking help from nobody, and not +even so much as hinting to anybody that it would +be a good thing for others to go with them to the +Promised Land. The three boys were speedily in +the midst of preparations for their migration. It +was now well along in the middle of May. If they +were to take up land claims in Kansas and get in +a crop, they had no time to spare. The delightful +excitement of packing, of buying arms and ammunition, +and of winding up all the small concerns +of their life in Dixon made the days pass swiftly +by. There were all the details of tents for camping-out, +provisions for the march, and rough clothing +and walking gear for the new life beyond to +be looked after.</p> +<p>Some of the notions of the boys, in regard to +what was needed and what was to be expected +from the land beyond, were rather crude. And +perhaps their fathers were not in all cases so wise +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span> +as they thought themselves. The boys, however, +cherished the idea that absolutely everything they +should require in Kansas must be carried from +Illinois. “Why,” said the practical Mr. Howell, +“if we cannot buy ploughs, cattle, and seed, cheaper +in Missouri than we can here, we can at least save +the labor and cost of transportation. We don’t +want to haul a year’s provisions, either. We expect +to raise something to eat, don’t we?”</p> +<p>Charlie, to whom this remonstrance was addressed, +replied, “Well, of course we can raise +some garden truck, and I suppose we can buy +bacon and flour cheaper in Missouri than here.”</p> +<p>“Then there’s the game,” interrupted Oscar and +Sandy, both in one breath. “Governor Robinson’s +book says that the country is swarming with +game,” added Sandy, excitedly.</p> +<p>The boys had devoured a little book by Mr. +Robinson, the free-State Governor of Kansas, in +which the richness of the Promised Land was +glowingly set forth.</p> +<p>“Much time we shall have to shoot buffaloes +and antelope when we are breaking up the sod and +planting corn,” Mr. Howell answered with a shade +of sarcasm in his voice.</p> +<p>“And we may have to fire at bigger game than +either of those,” added Mr. Bryant, grimly.</p> +<p>“Border Ruffians?” asked Sandy, with a feeble +attempt at a grin. His mother shuddered and +hastily went out of the room. The Kansas scheme +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span> +seemed no longer pleasant to her, when she read +the dreadful stories of violence and bloodshed with +which some of the Western newspapers were teeming. +But it was settled that most of the tools +needed for farming could be bought better in +Missouri than in Illinois; the long haul would be +saved, and the horses with which they were to +start could be exchanged for oxen to good advantage +when they reached “the river.” They had +already adopted the common phrase, “the river,” +for the Missouri River, then generally used by +people emigrating westward.</p> +<p>“But perhaps the Missourians will not sell you +anything when they know that you are free-State +men,” suggested Mrs. Bryant, timidly, for this was +a family council.</p> +<p>“Oh, well,” answered Mr. Howell, sturdily, “I’ll +risk that. I never saw a man yet with anything +to sell who wouldn’t sell it when the money was +shaken in his face. The newspapers paint those +border men pretty black, I know; but if they stop +to ask a man’s politics before they make a bargain +with him, they must be queer cattle. They are +more than human or less than human, not Americans +at all, if they do business in that way.” In +the end they found that Mr. Howell was entirely +right.</p> +<p>All was settled at last, and that, too, in some +haste, for the season was rapidly advancing when +planting must be attended to, if they were to plant +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +that year for the fall harvest. From the West +they heard reports of hosts of people pouring into +the new Territory, of land being in great demand, +and of the best claims near the Missouri being +taken by early emigrants. They must be in a +hurry if they were to get a fair chance with the +rest and a fair start on their farm,––a farm yet +existing only in their imagination.</p> +<p>Their wagon, well stored with clothing and provisions, +a few books, Oscar’s violin, a medicine +chest, powder, shot, and rifle-balls, and an assortment +of odds and ends,––the wagon, so long a +magical repository of hopes and the most delightful +anticipations, was ready at last. It stood at the +side gate of Mr. Bryant’s home, with a “spike +team” (two horses at the pole, and one horse for +a leader) harnessed. It was a serious, almost solemn, +moment. Now that the final parting had +come, the wrench with which the two families +were to be broken up seemed harder than any of +the members had expected. The two mothers, +bravely keeping up smiling faces, went about the +final touches of preparations for the lads’ departure +and the long journey of their husbands.</p> +<p>Mr. Howell mounted the wagon with Sandy by +his side; Mr. Bryant took his seat with the other +two boys in an open buggy, which they were to +drive to “the river” and there trade for a part +of their outfit. Fond and tearful kisses had been +exchanged and farewells spoken. They drove off +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +into the West. The two women stood at the gate, +gazing after them with tear-dimmed eyes as long +as they were in sight; and when the little train +disappeared behind the first swale of the prairie, +they burst into tears and went into the house +which was now left unto them desolate.</p> +<p>It was a quiet party that drove over the prairie +that bright and beautiful morning. The two boys +in the buggy spoke occasionally in far-off-sounding +voices about indifferent things that attracted their +attention as they drove along. Mr. Howell held +the reins, with a certain stern sense of duty on +his dark and handsome face. Sandy sat silently by +his side, the big tears coursing down his freckled +cheeks.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_III_ON_THE_DISPUTED_TERRITORY' id='CHAPTER_III_ON_THE_DISPUTED_TERRITORY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> +<h3>ON THE DISPUTED TERRITORY.</h3> +</div> +<p>The straggling, unkempt, and forlorn town of +Parkville, Missouri, was crowded with strangers +when the emigrants arrived there after a long and +toilsome drive through Iowa. They had crossed +the Mississippi from Illinois into Iowa, at Fulton, +on the eastern shore, and after stopping to rest for +a day or two in Clinton, a pretty village on the +opposite bank, had pushed on, their faces ever +set westward. Then, turning in a southwesterly +direction, they travelled across the lower part of +the State, and almost before they knew it they +were on the sacred soil of Missouri, the dangers of +entering which had been pictured to them all along +the route. They had been warned by the friendly +settlers in Iowa to avoid St. Joseph, one of the +crossings from Missouri into Kansas; it was a nest +of Border Ruffians, so they were told, and they +would surely have trouble. They must also steer +clear of Leavenworth; for that town was the headquarters +of a number of Missourians whose names +were already terrible all over the Northern States, +from Kansas to Massachusetts Bay. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span></p> +<p>“But there is the military at Fort Leavenworth,” +replied Mr. Bryant. “Surely they will +protect the citizens of the United States who are +peaceful and well-behaved. We are only peaceable +immigrants.”</p> +<p>“Pshaw!” answered an Iowa man. “All the +army officers in this part of the country are pro-slavery +men. They are in sympathy with the pro-slavery +men, anyhow, and if they had been sent +here to keep free-State men out of the Territory, +they couldn’t do any different from what they are +doing. It’s an infernal shame, that’s what it is.”</p> +<p>Bryant said nothing in reply, but as they trudged +along, for the roads were very bad, and they could +not often ride in their vehicles now, his face grew +dark and red by turns. Finally he broke out,––</p> +<p>“See here, Aleck,” he cried, “I don’t want to +sneak into the Territory. If these people think +they can scare law-abiding and peaceable citizens +of a free country from going upon the land of +these United States, we might just as well fight +first as last. For one, I will not be driven out of +a country that I have got just as much right to as +any of these hot-headed Missouri fellows.”</p> +<p>His brother-in-law looked troubled, but before +he could speak the impetuous and fiery Sandy +said: “That’s the talk, Uncle Charlie! Let’s go +in by the shortest way, and tackle the Border +Ruffians if they tackle us. Who’s afraid?” And +the lad bravely handled his “pepper-box,” as his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +old-fashioned five-barrelled revolver was sportively +called by the men of those days; for the modern +revolver with one barrel for all the chambers of +the weapon had not then come into use. “Who’s +afraid?” he repeated fiercely, looking around. +Everybody burst out laughing, and the valorous +Sandy looked rather crestfallen.</p> +<p>“I am afraid, for one,” said his father. “I want +no fighting, no bloodshed. I want to get into the +Territory and get to work on our claim, just as +soon as possible; but if we can’t get there without +a fight, why then, I’ll fight. But I ain’t seeking +for no fight.” When Aleck Howell was excited, +his grammar went to the four winds. His view +of the situation commended itself to the approval +of Oscar, who said he had promised his mother +that he would avoid every appearance of hostile +intention, keep a civil tongue in his head, have his +weapons out of sight and his powder always dry.</p> +<p>The emigrants decided to go into Kansas by +way of Parkville.</p> +<p>At Claybank, half-way between the Iowa line +and the Missouri River, they encountered a drover +with a herd of cattle. He was eager to dicker +with the Kansas emigrants, and offered them what +they considered to be a very good bargain in exchanging +oxen for their horses. They were now +near the Territory, and the rising prices of almost +everything that immigrants required warned them +that they were not far from the point where an +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +outfit could no longer be bought at any reasonable +price. The boys were loth to part with their +buggy; for, although they had been often compelled +to go afoot through some of the worst roads +in the States of Iowa and Missouri, they had clung +to the notion that they might have a pair of horses +to take into the Territory, and, while the buggy +was left to them, they had a refuge in times of +weariness with walking; and these were rather +frequent. The wagon was exchanged for another, +suitable for oxen.</p> +<p>The immigrants drove gayly into Parkville. They +were in sight of the Promised Land. The Big +Muddy, as Missourians affectionately call the turbid +stream that gives name to their State, rolled +sluggishly between the Parkville shore and the +low banks fringed with cottonwoods that were the +eastern boundary of Kansas. Looking across, they +could see long lines of white-covered wagons, level +plains dotted with tents, and the rising smoke of +many fires, where people who had gone in ahead +of them were cooking their suppers; for they +entered Parkville late in the afternoon. It was a +commonplace-looking view of Kansas, after all, and +not at all like what the lads had fancied it would +be. Sandy very emphatically expressed his disappointment.</p> +<p>“What would you have, Sandy?” asked his +uncle, with some amusement. “Did you expect +to see wild honey dripping out of the cottonwoods +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +and sycamores, buffaloes and deer standing up and +waiting to be shot at, and a farm ready to be +tilled?”</p> +<p>“Well,” replied the boy, a little shamefacedly, +“I didn’t exactly expect to see all those things; +but somehow the country looks awful flat and +dull. Don’t you think so?”</p> +<p>For answer, Mr. Bryant pointed out a line of +blue slopes in the distance. “Those are not very +high hills, my boy, to be sure, but they are on the +rolling prairie beyond, and as soon as we get away +from the river we shall find a bluffy and diversified +country, I’ll warrant you.”</p> +<p>“Yes; don’t you remember,” broke in Oscar, +eagerly, “Governor Robinson’s book told all about +the rolling and undulating country of the Territory, +and the streams that run under high bluffs +in some places?”</p> +<p>Sandy admitted that this was true of the book; +but he added, “Some books do lie, though.”</p> +<p>“Not Governor Robinson’s book,” commented +his brother Charlie, with a slight show of resentment. +For Charlie had made a study of the reports +from the Promised Land.</p> +<p>But a more pressing matter was the attitude +of the border-State men toward the free-State emigrants, +and the question of making the necessary +purchases for their farming scheme. Parkville +was all alive with people, and there were many +border-State men among them. Some of these +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +regarded the newcomers with unmistakable hostility, +noting which, Sandy and Oscar took good +care to keep near their two grown-up protectors; +and the two men always went about with their +weapons within easy reaching distance. All of the +Borderers were opposed to any more free-State +men going into the Territory; and many of them +were disposed to stop this by force, if necessary. +At one time, the situation looked very serious, and +Sandy got his “pepper-box” into position. But +the trouble passed away, and the arrival of fifteen +or twenty teams, accompanied by a full complement +of men, checked a rising storm of wrath.</p> +<p>From Platte City, a short distance up the river, +however, came doleful and distressing stories of +the ill-treatment of the free-State men who had +gone that way. They were harassed and hindered, +and, in some cases, their teams were deliberately +turned about and driven back on the road by +which they had come. It was useless to remonstrate +when the rifles of a dozen men were levelled +at the would-be immigrants. But our travellers in +Parkville heard a good story of the bravery of one +free-State man who had been refused transportation +across the ferry at Platte City, kept by an ardent +pro-slavery man. The intending immigrant, unconscious +of any hindrance to his crossing, was +calmly driving down to the ferry-boat, a flat-bottomed +craft propelled by long oars, or sweeps, +when the ferryman stopped him with the question, +“What hev ye got into yer waggin?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span></p> +<p>“Oxen,” sententiously replied the newcomer.</p> +<p>“And what’s them thar cattle follering on behind?” +he asked, pointing to a drove of milch-cattle +in the rear.</p> +<p>“Caouws,” answered the immigrant, in the broad +pronunciation peculiar to provincial people of the +New England States.</p> +<p>“All right,” was the rejoinder; “a man that +says ‘caouws’ can’t go over this yere ferry withouten +he’s got the tickets.” No argument would +induce the ferryman to explain what the tickets +were and where they could be procured. Finally, +his patience exhausted, the free-State man suddenly +drew from the big pockets of his frock a pair of +tremendous pistols, ready cocked, and, holding them +full in the face of the surprised ferryman, he said,––</p> +<p>“Here are my tickets, and I’m going across +this ferry right off, caouws or no caouws!” And +he went.</p> +<p>Even at Parkville, where there was very little +difficulty in crossing, as compared with what there +had been earlier in the struggle for Kansas, they +were advised by discreet friends and sympathizers +to be on the lookout for opposition. Every fresh +arrival of free-State men angered yet more the +Borderers who were gathered there to hinder and, +if possible, prevent further immigration. Mr. Bryant +chafed under the necessity of keeping his +voice hushed on the topic that engaged all his +thoughts; and Oscar and Sandy were ready to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +fight their way across the river; at least they +said so.</p> +<p>They did find, however, that the buying of provisions +and farming-tools required for their future +use, was out of the question in Parkville. Whether +it was the unexpected demand, or a refusal of +the Missourians to sell to free-State men, they +could not determine. But the prices of everything +they wanted were very high. What should +they do? These articles they must have. But +their cost here was far beyond their most extravagant +estimates. When Mr. Howell was reminded +by his brother-in-law how he had said that no +politics could interfere with trade and prices, he +was amused.</p> +<p>“Of course,” he said, “it does look as if these +Missourians would not sell at fair prices because +they want to hinder us; but don’t you see that +the demand is greater than the supply? I know +these folks are bitterly hostile to us; but the +reason why they have so small a stock of goods +on hand is that they have sold out to other free-State +men that have come before us to buy the +same things. Isn’t that so?”</p> +<p>Mr. Bryant was obliged to admit that this was +a reasonable explanation; but as he had begun +by thinking that every Borderer hated a free-State +man and would do him an injury if he could, he +did not give up that notion willingly. He was +certain that there was a plot in the high prices of +bacon, flour, corn-meal, and ploughs. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span></p> +<p>In this serious dilemma, Charlie came to the +relief of the party with the information that a +free-State man, whose team had just recrossed the +river for a load of supplies sent him by a wagon +that was to return to Iowa, brought news that a +large trading-post had been opened at a new Kansas +town called Quindaro. He said that the Iowa +man told him that prices were just now lower in +Quindaro than they had ever been in Parkville.</p> +<p>“Quindaro?” said Oscar, musingly;––“why, +that must be an Indian name,––feminine Indian +name, too, unless I miss my guess.”</p> +<p>Mr. Bryant had heard of Quindaro. It was a +brand-new town, a few miles down the river, settled +by free-State men and named for a young, +full-blooded Indian girl of the Delaware tribe. +The town was on the borders of the Delaware +reservation, which in those days came close to the +Missouri River. Charlie, also, had gathered some +facts about the town, and he added that Quindaro +was a good place to start from, going westward. +The party had laid in a stock of groceries––coffee, +tea, and other articles of that description––before +leaving home. Now they needed staple provisions, +a few farming tools, a breaking-plough, and +some seed corn. Few thought of planting anything +but corn; but the thrifty settlers from +Illinois knew the value of fresh vegetables, and +they were resolved to have “garden truck” just +as soon as seeds could be planted and brought to +maturity. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span></p> +<p>“And side-meat?” asked Sandy, wonderingly, +as he heard his father inquiring the price of that +article of food. Side-meat, in the South and +West, is the thin flank of a porker, salted and +smoked after the fashion of hams, and in those +parts of the Southwest it was (and probably is) +the staple article of food among the people. It +is sold in long, unattractive-looking slabs; and +when Sandy heard its name mentioned, his disgust +as well as his wonder was kindled.</p> +<p>“Side-meat?” he repeated, with a rising inflection. +“Why, I thought we were going to live on +game,––birds and buffalo and the like! Side-meat? +Well, that makes me sick!”</p> +<p>The two men laughed, and Mr. Howell said,––</p> +<p>“Why, Sandy, you are bent on hunting and not +on buckling down to farm work. How do you +suppose we are going to live if we have nothing +to eat but wild game that we kill, and breadstuffs +and vegetables that we buy?”</p> +<p>Sandy had thought that they might be able +to step out into the woods or prairie, between +times, as it were, and knock down a few head of +game when the day’s work was done, or had not +begun. When he said as much, the two heads of +the party laughed again, and even Charlie joined +in the glee.</p> +<p>“My dear infant,” said his father, seriously, but +with a twinkle in his eye, “game is not so plenty +anywhere as that; and if it were, we should soon +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +tire of it. Now side-meat ‘sticks to the ribs,’ as +the people hereabouts will tell you, and it is the +best thing to fall back upon when fresh meat fails. +We can’t get along without it, and that is a fact; +hey, Charlie?”</p> +<p>The rest of the party saw the wisdom of this +suggestion, and Sandy was obliged to give up, +then and there, his glowing views of a land so +teeming with game that one had only to go out +with a rifle, or even a club, and knock it over. But +he mischievously insisted that if side-meat did +“stick to the ribs,” as the Missourians declared, +they did not eat much of it, for, as a rule, the +people whom they met were a very lank and slab-sided +lot. “Clay-eaters,” their new acquaintance +from Quindaro said they were.</p> +<p>“Clay-eaters?” asked Charlie, with a puzzled +look. “They are clayey-looking in the face. But +it can’t be possible that they actually eat clay?”</p> +<p>“Well, they do, and I have seen them chewing +it. There is a fine, soft clay found in these parts, +and more especially south of here; it has a greasy +feeling, as if it was a fatty substance, and the +natives eat it just as they would candy. Why, I +should think that it would form a sand-bar inside +of a man, after awhile; but they take to it just as +naturally!”</p> +<p>“If I have got to choose between side-meat and +clay for a regular diet,” said Sandy, “give me +side-meat every time.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span></p> +<p>That night, having made their plans to avoid +the prying eyes of the border-State men, who in +great numbers were now coming in, well-armed +and looking somewhat grimly at the free-State +men, the little party crossed the river. Ten dollars, +good United States money, was demanded by +the ferryman as the price of their passage; it +looked like robbery, but there was no other way +of getting over the river and into the Promised +Land; so it was paid, with many a wrench of the +patience of the indignant immigrants; and they +pitched their tent that night under the stars and +slept soundly on the soil of “bleeding Kansas.”</p> +<p>Bright and early next morning, the boys were +up and stirring, for now was to begin their camp +life. Hitherto, they had slept in their tent, but +had taken their meals at the farm-houses and small +taverns of the country through which they had +passed. They would find few such conveniences +in the new country into which they had come, and +they had been warned that in Kansas the rule was +“every man for himself.”</p> +<p>They made sad work with their first breakfast +in camp. Oscar had taken a few lessons in cooking +from his mother, before leaving home, and the +two men had had some experience in that line of +duty when out on hunting expeditious in Illinois, +years before. So they managed to make coffee, +fry slices of side-meat, and bake a hoe-cake of +Indian-corn meal. “Hog and hominy,” said Sandy’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +father. “That’s the diet of the country, and that +is what we shall come to, and we might as well +take it first as last.”</p> +<p>“There’s worse provender than this, where +there’s none,” said Mr. Bryant, cheerfully; “and +before we get through we shall be hungry more +than once for hog and hominy.”</p> +<p>It was an enlivening sight that greeted the eyes +of the newcomers as they looked around upon the +flat prairie that stretched along the river-side. +The tents of the immigrants glistened in the rising +sun. The smoke of many camp-fires arose on the +summer air. Groups of men were busily making +preparations for their long tramp westward, and, +here and there, women and children were gathered +around the white-topped wagons, taking their early +breakfast or getting ready for the day’s march. +Here, too, could now be seen the rough and surly-looking +border men who were on the way to points +along the route that were to be occupied by them +before too many free-State men should come in. +An election of some sort, the newcomers could +not exactly make out what, was to take place in a +day or two, and the Missourians whom they had +seen flocking into Parkville were ready to vote as +soon as they got into the Territory.</p> +<p>Breakfast over, the boys sauntered around +through the camps, viewing the novel sights with +vast amusement. It was like a militia muster at +home, except that the only soldier element they +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +saw was the band of rough-looking and rough-talking +men who were bound to vote and fight for +slavery. They swaggered about with big pistols +girt at their hips and rifles over their shoulders, +full-bearded and swarthy, each one a captain apparently, +all without much organization, but very +serious in their intention to vote and to fight. It +really seemed as if they had reached the fighting-ground +at last.</p> +<p>“See here, daddy,” said Oscar, as he came in +from the camps when the Dixon caravan was ready +to move; “see what I found in this newspaper. It +is a piece of poetry, and a mighty fine piece, too”; +and the boy began to read some lines beginning +thus,––</p> +<table style='margin: auto' summary=''><tr><td> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'> +“We cross the prairie as of old<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>The pilgrims crossed the sea,</span><br /> +To make the West, as they the East,<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>The homestead of the free!”</span></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>“Oh, well; I can’t bother about poetry, now,” +said the father, hastily. “I have some prose work +on hand, just about this time. I’m trying to drive +these pesky cattle, and I don’t make a very good +fist at it. Your Uncle Aleck has gone on ahead, +and left me to manage the team; but it’s new business +to me.”</p> +<p>“John G. Whittier is the name at the top of +these verses. I’ve heard of him. He’s a regular-built +poet,––lives somewhere down East.”</p> +<p>“I can’t help that, sonny; get on the other side +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +of those steers, and see if you can’t gee them +around. Dear, dear, they’re dreadful obstinate +creatures!”</p> +<p>That night, however, when they were comfortably +and safely camped in Quindaro, amid the +live-oaks and the tall sycamores that embowered +the pretty little town, Oscar again brought the +newspaper to his father, and, with kindling eyes, +said,––</p> +<p>“Read it out, daddy; read the piece. Why, it +was written just for us, I do declare. It is called +‘The Kansas Emigrants.’ We are Kansas Emigrants, +aren’t we?”</p> +<p>The father smiled kindly as he looked at the +flushed face and bright eyes of his boy, and took +from him the paper folded to show the verses. As +he read, his eyes, too, flashed and his lip trembled.</p> +<p>“Listen to this!” he cried. “Listen to this! It +is like a trumpet call!” And with a voice quivering +with emotion, he began the poem,––</p> +<table style='margin: auto' summary=''><tr><td> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'> +“We cross the prairie as of old<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>The pilgrims crossed the sea,</span><br /> +To make the West, as they the East,<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>The homestead of the free!”</span></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>“Something has got into my eyes,” said Mr. +Howell, as the last stanza was read. “Great +Scott! though, how that does stir a man’s blood!” +And he furtively wiped the moisture from his eyes. +It was time to put out the light and go to sleep, +for the night now was well advanced. But Mr. +Bryant, thoroughly aroused, read and re-read the +lines aloud.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/set-034.jpg' alt='' title='' width='513' height='398' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span class='smcap'>In Camp at Quindaro. The Poem of “The Kansas Emigrants.”</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span></div> +<p>“Sing ’em,” said his brother-in-law, jokingly. +Bryant was a good singer, and he at once tuned +up with a fine baritone voice, recalling a familiar +tune that fitted the measure of the poem.</p> +<p>“Oh, come now, Uncle Charlie,” cried Sandy, +from his blankets in the corner of the tent, “that’s +‘Old Dundee.’ Can’t you give us something +lively? Something not quite so solemn?”</p> +<p>“Not so solemn, my laddie? Don’t you know +that this is a solemn age we are in, and a very solemn +business we are on? You’ll think so before +we get out of this Territory, or I am greatly mistaken.”</p> +<p>“Sandy’ll think it’s solemn, when he has to trot +over a piece of newly broken prairie, carrying a +pouchful of seed corn, dropping five grains in each +sod,” said his father, laughing, as he blew out the +candle.</p> +<p>“It’s a good song; a bully good song,” murmured +the boy, turning over to sleep. “But it +ought to be sung to something with more of a rig-a-jig-jig +to it.” So saying, he was off to the land +of dreams.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV_AMONG_THE_DELAWARES' id='CHAPTER_IV_AMONG_THE_DELAWARES'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> +<h3>AMONG THE DELAWARES.</h3> +</div> +<p>Quindaro was a straggling but pretty little +town built among the groves of the west bank of +the Missouri. Here the emigrants found a store +or trading-post, well supplied with the goods they +needed, staple articles of food and the heavier +farming-tools being the first required. The boys +looked curiously at the big breaking-plough that +was to be of so much consequence to them in their +new life and labors. The prairies around their +Illinois home had been long broken up when they +were old enough to take notice of such things; and +as they were town boys, they had never had their +attention called to the implements of a prairie farm.</p> +<p>“It looks like a plough that has been sat down on +and flattened out,” was Oscar’s remark, after they +had looked the thing over very critically. It had +a long and massive beam, or body, and big, strong +handles, suggestive of hard work to be done with +it. “The nose,” as Sandy called the point of the +share, was long, flat, and as sharp as a knife. It +was this thin and knife-like point that was to cut +into the virgin turf of the prairie, and, as the sod +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +was cut, the share was to turn it over, bottom side +up, while the great, heavy implement was drawn +along by the oxen.</p> +<p>“But the sod is so thick and tough,” said Oscar, +“I don’t see how the oxen can drag the thing +through. Will our three yoke of cattle do it?”</p> +<p>The two men looked at each other and smiled. +This had been a subject of much anxious thought +with them. They had been told that they would +have difficulty in breaking up the prairie with +three yoke of oxen; they should have four yoke, +certainly. So when Mr. Howell explained that +they must get another yoke and then rely on their +being able to “change work” with some of their +neighbors who might have cattle, the boys laughed +outright.</p> +<p>“Neighbors!” cried Sandy. “Why, I didn’t +suppose we should have any neighbors within five +or ten miles. Did you, Oscar? I was in hopes we +wouldn’t have neighbors to plague us with their +pigs and chickens, and their running in to borrow +a cupful of molasses, or last week’s newspaper. +Neighbors!” and the boy’s brown face wore an +expression of disgust.</p> +<p>“Don’t you worry about neighbors, Sandy,” said +his uncle. “Even if we have any within five miles +of us, we shall do well. But if there is to be any +fighting, we shall want neighbors to join forces +with us, and we shall find them handy, anyhow, in +case of sickness or trouble. We cannot get along +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span> +in a new country like this without neighbors, and +you bear that in mind, Master Sandy.”</p> +<p>The two leaders of this little flock had been +asking about the prospects for taking up claims +along the Kansas River, or the Kaw, as that stream +was then generally called. To their great dismay, +they had found that there was very little vacant +land to be had anywhere near the river. They +would have to push on still further westward if +they wished to find good land ready for the pre-emptor. +Rumors of fighting and violence came +from the new city of Lawrence, the chief settlement +of the free-State men, on the Kaw; and at +Grasshopper Falls, still further to the west, the +most desirable land was already taken up, and +there were wild stories of a raid on that locality +being planned by bands of Border Ruffians. They +were in a state of doubt and uncertainty.</p> +<p>“There she is! There she is!” said Charlie, in +a loud whisper, looking in the direction of a tall, +unpainted building that stood among the trees +that embowered the little settlement. Every one +looked and saw a young lady tripping along +through the hazel brush that still covered the +ground. She was rather stylishly dressed, “citified,” +Oscar said; she swung a beaded work-bag as +she walked.</p> +<p>“Who is it? Who is it?” asked Oscar, breathlessly. +She was the first well-dressed young lady +he had seen since leaving Iowa. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span></p> +<p>“Sh-h-h-h!” whispered Charlie. “That’s Quindaro. +A young fellow pointed her out to me last +night, just after we drove into the settlement. She +lives with her folks in that tall, thin house up +there. I have been looking for her to come out. +See, she’s just going into the post-office now.”</p> +<p>“Quindaro!” exclaimed Sandy. “Why, I thought +Quindaro was a squaw.”</p> +<p>“She’s a full-blooded Delaware Indian girl, that’s +what she is, and she was educated somewhere East +in the States; and this town is named for her. +She owns all the land around here, and is the belle +of the place.”</p> +<p>“She’s got on hoop-skirts, too,” said Oscar. +“Just think of an Indian girl––a squaw––wearing +hoops, will you?” For all this happened, +my young reader must remember, when women’s +fashions were very different from what they now +are. Quindaro––that is to say, the young Indian +lady of that time––was dressed in the height of +fashion, but not in any way obtrusively. Charlie, +following with his eyes the young girl’s figure, as +she came out of the post-office and went across the +ravine that divided the settlement into two equal +parts, mirthfully said, “And only think! That is +a full-blooded Delaware Indian girl!”</p> +<p>But, their curiosity satisfied, the boys were evidently +disappointed with their first view of Indian +civilization. There were no blanketed Indians +loafing around in the sun and sleeping under the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +shelter of the underbrush, as they had been taught +to expect to see them. Outside of the settlement, +men were ploughing and planting, breaking prairie, +and building cabins; and while our party were +looking about them, a party of Delawares drove +into town with several ox-carts to carry away the +purchases that one of their number had already +made. It was bewildering to boys who had been +brought up on stories of Black Hawk, the Prophet, +and the Sacs and Foxes of Illinois and Wisconsin. +A Delaware Indian, clad in the ordinary garb of a +Western farmer and driving a yoke of oxen, and +employing the same curious lingo used by the +white farmers, was not a picturesque object.</p> +<p>“I allow that sixty dollars is a big price to pay +for a yoke of cattle,” said Mr. Howell, anxiously. +He was greatly concerned about the new purchase +that must be made here, according to the latest +information. “We might have got them for two-thirds +of that money back in Illinois. And you +know that Iowa chap only reckoned the price of +these at forty-five, when we traded with him at +Jonesville.”</p> +<p>“It’s no use worrying about that now, Aleck,” +said his brother-in-law. “I know you thought +then that we should need four yoke for breaking +the prairie; but, then, you weren’t certain about +it, and none of the rest of us ever had any sod-ploughing +to do.”</p> +<p>“No, none of us,” said Sandy, with delightful +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +gravity; at which everybody smiled. One would +have thought that Sandy was a veteran in everything +but farming.</p> +<p>“I met a man this morning, while I was prowling +around the settlement,” said Charlie, “who +said that there was plenty of vacant land, of first-rate +quality, up around Manhattan. Where’s +that, father––do you know? <i>He</i> didn’t, but some +other man, one of the New England Society fellows, +told him so.”</p> +<p>But nobody knew where Manhattan was. This +was the first time they had ever heard of the place. +The cattle question was first to be disposed of, however, +and as soon as the party had finished their +breakfast, the two men and Charlie sallied out +through the settlement to look up a bargain. Oscar +and Sandy were left in the camp to wash the dishes +and “clean up,” a duty which both of them despised +with a hearty hatred.</p> +<p>“If there’s anything I just fairly abominate, it’s +washing dishes,” said Sandy, seating himself on +the wagon-tongue and discontentedly eyeing a +huge tin pan filled with tin plates and cups, steaming +in the hot water that Oscar had poured over +them from the camp-kettle.</p> +<p>“Well, that’s part of the play,” answered Oscar, +pleasantly. “It isn’t boy’s work, let alone man’s +work, to be cooking and washing dishes. I wonder +what mother would think to see us at it?” And +a suspicious moisture gathered in the lad’s eyes, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +as a vision of his mother’s tidy kitchen in far-off +Illinois rose before his mind. Sandy looked very +solemn.</p> +<p>“But, as daddy says, it’s no use worrying about +things you can’t help,” continued the cheerful +Oscar; “so here goes, Sandy. You wash, and I’ll +dry ’em.” And the two boys went on with their +disagreeable work so heartily that they soon had it +out of the way; Sandy remarking as they finished +it, that, for his part, he did not like the business +at all, but he did not think it fair that they two, +who could not do the heavy work, should grumble +over that they could do. “The worst of it is,” he +added, “we’ve got to look forward to months and +months of this sort of thing. Father and Uncle +Charlie say that we cannot have the rest of the +family come out until we have a house to put them +in––a log-cabin, they mean, of course; and Uncle +Charlie says that we may not get them out until +another spring. I don’t believe he will be willing +for them to come out until he knows whether the +Territory is to be slave or free. Do you, Oscar?”</p> +<p>“No, indeed,” said Oscar. “Between you and +me, Sandy, I don’t want to go back to Illinois again, +for anything; but I guess father will make up his +mind about staying only when we find out if there +is to be a free-State government or not. Dear me, +why can’t the Missourians keep out of here and let +us alone?”</p> +<p>“It’s a free country,” answered Sandy, sententiously. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +“That’s what Uncle Charlie is always +saying. The Missourians have just as good a right +here as we have.”</p> +<p>“But they have no right to be bringing in +their slavery with ’em,” replied the other. “That +wouldn’t be a free country, would it, with one man +owning another man? Not much.”</p> +<p>“That’s beyond me, Oscar. I suppose it’s a +free country only for the white man to come to. +But I haven’t any politics in me. Hullo! there +comes the rest of us driving a yoke of oxen. +Well, on my word, they have been quick about it. +Uncle Charlie is a master hand at hurrying things, +I will say,” added Sandy, admiringly. “He’s done +all the trading, I’ll be bound!”</p> +<p>“Fifty-five dollars,” replied Bryant, to the boys’ +eager inquiry as to the price paid for the yoke of +oxen. “Fifty-five dollars, and not so very dear, +after all, considering that there are more people +who want to buy than there are who want to sell.”</p> +<p>“And now we are about ready to start; only a +few more provisions to lay in. Suppose we get +away by to-morrow morning?”</p> +<p>“Oh, that’s out of the question, Uncle Aleck,” +said Oscar. “What makes you in such a hurry? +Why, you have all along said we need not get +away from here for a week yet, if we did not want +to; the grass hasn’t fairly started yet, and we cannot +drive far without feed for the cattle. Four +yoke, too,” he added proudly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span></p> +<p>“The fact is, Oscar,” said his father, lowering +his voice and looking around as if to see whether +anybody was within hearing distance, “we have +heard this morning that there was a raid on this +place threatened from Kansas City, over the border. +This is the free-State headquarters in this part of +the country, and it has got about that the store +here is owned and run by the New England Emigrant +Aid Society. So they are threatening to raid +the place, burn the settlement, run off the stock, +and loot the settlers. I should like to have a company +of resolute men to defend the place,” and +Mr. Bryant’s eyes flashed; “but this is not our +home, nor our fight, and I’m willing to ‘light out’ +right off, or as soon as we get ready.”</p> +<p>“Will they come to-night, do you think?” +asked Sandy, and his big blue eyes looked very +big indeed. “Because we can’t get off until we +have loaded the wagon and fixed the wheels; you +said they must be greased before we travelled +another mile, you know.”</p> +<p>It was agreed, however, that there was no immediate +danger of the raid––certainly not that +night; but all felt that it was the part of prudence +to be ready to start at once; the sooner, the better. +When the boys went to their blankets that night, +they whispered to each other that the camp might +be raided and so they should be ready for any +assault that might come. Sandy put his “pepper-box” +under his pillow, and Charlie had his trusty +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +rifle within reach. Oscar carried a double-barrelled +shot-gun of which he was very proud, and that +weapon, loaded with buckshot, was laid carefully +by the side of his blankets. The two elders of the +party “slept with one eye open,” as they phrased +it. But there was no alarm through the night, +except once when Mr. Howell got up and went +out to see how the cattle were getting on. He +found that one of the sentinels who had been set +by the Quindaro Company in consequence of the +scare, had dropped asleep on the wagon-tongue of +the Dixon party. Shaking him gently, he awoke +the sleeping sentinel, who at once bawled, “Don’t +shoot!” to the great consternation of the nearest +campers, who came flying out of their blankets +to see what was the matter. When explanations +had been made, all laughed, stretched themselves, +and then went to bed again to dream of Missouri +raiders.</p> +<p>The sun was well up in the sky next day, when +the emigrants, having completed their purchases, +yoked their oxen and drove up through the settlement +and ascended the rolling swale of land that +lay beyond the groves skirting the river. Here +were camps of other emigrants who had moved out +of Quindaro before them, or had come down from +the point on the Missouri opposite Parkville, in +order to get on to the road that led westward and +south of the Kaw. It was a beautifully wooded +country. When the lads admired the trees, Mr. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span> +Howell somewhat contemptuously said: “Not +much good, chiefly black-jacks and scrub-oaks”; +but the woods were pleasant to drive through, and +when they came upon scattered farms and plantations +with comfortable log-cabins set in the midst +of cultivated fields, the admiration of the party was +excited.</p> +<p>“Only look, Uncle Charlie,” cried Sandy, +“there’s a real flower-garden full of hollyhocks +and marigolds; and there’s a rose-bush climbing +over that log-cabin!” It was too early to distinguish +one flower from another by its blooms, but +Sandy’s sharp eyes had detected the leaves of the +old-fashioned flowers that he loved so well, which he +knew were only just planted in the farther northern +air of their home in Illinois. It was a pleasant-looking +Kansas home, and Sandy wondered how it +happened that this cosey living-place had grown +up so quickly in this new Territory. It looked as +if it were many years old, he said.</p> +<p>“We are still on the Delaware Indian reservation,” +replied his uncle. “The Government has +given the tribe a big tract of land here and away +up to the Kaw. They’ve been here for years, and +they are good farmers, I should say, judging from +the looks of things hereabouts.”</p> +<p>Just then, as if to explain matters, a decent-looking +man, dressed in the rude fashion of the +frontier, but in civilized clothes, came out of the +cabin, and, pipe in mouth, stared not unkindly at +the passing wagon and its party. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span></p> +<p>“Howdy,” he civilly replied to a friendly greeting +from Mr. Howell. The boys knew that “How” +was a customary salutation among Indians, but +“Howdy” struck them as being comic; Sandy +laughed as he turned away his face. Mr. Bryant +lingered while the slow-moving oxen plodded their +way along the road, and the boys, too, halted to +hear what the dark-skinned man had to say. But +the Indian––for he was a “civilized” Delaware––was +a man of very few words. In answer to Mr. +Bryant’s questions, he said he was one of the chiefs +of the tribe; he had been to Washington to settle +the terms of an agreement with the Government; +and he had lived in that cabin six years, and on +the present reservation ever since it was established.</p> +<p>All this information came out reluctantly, and +with as little use of vital breath as possible. When +they had moved on out of earshot, Oscar expressed +his decided opinion that that settler was no more +like James Fenimore Cooper’s Indians than the +lovely Quindaro appeared to be. “Why, did you +notice, father,” he continued, “that he actually +had on high-heeled boots? Think of that! An +Indian with high-heeled boots! Why, in Cooper’s +novels they wear moccasins, and some of them go +barefoot. These Indians are not worthy of the +name.”</p> +<p>“You will see more of the same sort before we +get to the river,” said his father. “They have a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +meeting-house up yonder, by the fork of the road, +I am told. And, seeing that this is our first day +out of camp on the last stage of our journey, suppose +we stop for dinner at Indian John’s, Aleck? +It will be a change from camp-fare, and they say +that John keeps a good table.”</p> +<p>To the delight of the lads, it was agreed that +they should make the halt as suggested, and noon +found them at a very large and comfortable “double +cabin,” as these peculiar structures are called. +Two log-cabins are built, end to end, with one roof +covering the two. The passage between them is +floored over, and affords an open shelter from rain +and sun, and in hot weather is the pleasantest +place about the establishment. Indian John’s +cabin was built of hewn logs, nicely chinked in +with slivers, and daubed with clay to keep out the +wintry blasts. As is the manner of the country, +one of the cabins was used for the rooms of the +family, while the dining-room and kitchen were in +the other end of the structure. Indian John regularly +furnished dinner to the stage passengers +going westward from Quindaro; for a public conveyance, +a “mud-wagon,” as it was called, had +been put on this part of the road.</p> +<p>“What a tuck-out I had!” said Sandy, after a +very bountiful and well-cooked dinner had been +disposed of by the party. “And who would have +supposed we should ever sit down to an Indian’s +table and eat fried chicken, ham and eggs, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +corn-dodger, from a regular set of blue-and-white +plates, and drink good coffee from crockery cups? +It just beats Father Dixon’s Indian stories all to +pieces.”</p> +<p>Oscar and Charlie, however, were disposed to +think very lightly of this sort of Indian civilization. +Oscar said: “If these red men were either +one thing or the other, I wouldn’t mind it. But +they have shed the gaudy trappings of the wild +Indian, and their new clothes do not fit very well. +As Grandfather Bryant used to say, they are +neither fish nor flesh, nor good red herring. They +are a mighty uninteresting lot.”</p> +<p>“Well, they are on the way to a better state +of things than they have known, anyhow,” said +Charlie. “The next generation will see them +higher up, I guess. But I must say that these +farms don’t look very thrifty, somehow. Indians +are a lazy lot; they don’t like work. Did you +notice how all those big fellows at dinner sat down +with us and the stage passengers, and the poor +women had to wait on everybody? That’s Indian.”</p> +<p>Uncle Charlie laughed, and said that the boys +had expected to find civilized Indians waiting on +the table, decked out with paint and feathers, and +wearing deerskin leggings and such like.</p> +<p>“Wait until we get out on the frontier,” said +he, “and then you will see wild Indians, perhaps, +or ‘blanket Indians,’ anyhow.”</p> +<p>“Blanket Indians?” said Sandy, with an interrogation +point in his face. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span></p> +<p>“Yes; that’s what the roving and unsettled +bands are called by white folks. Those that are +on reservations and earning their own living, or a +part of it,––for the Government helps them out +considerably,––are called town Indians; those +that live in wigwams, or tepees, and rove from +place to place, subsisting on what they can catch, +are blanket Indians. They tell me that there are +wild Indians out on the western frontier. But +they are not hostile; at least, they were not, at +last accounts. The Cheyennes have been rather +uneasy, they say, since the white settlers began to +pour into the country. Just now I am more concerned +about the white Missourians than I am +about the red aborigines.”</p> +<p>They were still on the Delaware reservation +when they camped that evening, and the boys went +into the woods to gather fuel for their fire.</p> +<p>They had not gone far, when Sandy gave a wild +whoop of alarm, jumping about six feet backward +as he yelled, “A rattlesnake!” Sure enough, an +immense snake was sliding out from under a mass +of brush that the boy had disturbed as he gathered +an armful of dry branches and twigs. Dropping +his burden, Sandy shouted, “Kill him! Kill him, +quick!”</p> +<p>The reptile was about five feet long, very thick, +and of a dark mottled color. Instantly, each lad +had armed himself with a big stick and had attacked +him. The snake, stopped in his attempt to get +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +away, turned, and opening his ugly-looking mouth, +made a curious blowing noise, half a hiss and half +a cough, as Charlie afterward described it.</p> +<p>“Take care, Sandy! He’ll spring at you, and +bite you in the face! See! He’s getting ready to +spring!”</p> +<p>And, indeed, the creature, frightened, and surrounded +by the agile, jumping boys, each armed +with a club, seemed ready to defend his life with +the best weapons at his command. The boys, +excited and alarmed, were afraid to come near the +snake, and were dancing about, waiting for a chance +to strike, when they were startled by a shot from +behind them, and the snake, making one more +effort to turn on himself, shuddered and fell dead.</p> +<p>Mr. Howell, hearing the shouting of the boys, +had run out of the camp, and with a well-directed +rifle shot had laid low the reptile.</p> +<p>“It’s only a blow-snake,” he said, taking the +creature by the tail and holding it up to view. +“He’s harmless. Well! Of course a dead snake +is harmless, but when he was alive he was not the +sort of critter to be afraid of. I thought you had +encountered a bear, at the very least, by the racket +you made.”</p> +<p>“He’s a big fellow, anyhow,” said Oscar, giving +the snake a kick, “and Sandy said he was a rattlesnake. +I saw a rattler once when we lived in +Dixon. Billy Everett and I found him down on +the bluff below the railroad; and he was spotted +all over. Besides, this fellow hasn’t any rattles.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span></p> +<p>“The boys have been having a lesson in natural +history, Charlie,” said Mr. Howell to his brother-in-law, +as they returned with him to camp, loaded +with firewood; Sandy, boy-like, dragging the dead +blow-snake after him.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_V_TIDINGS_FROM_THE_FRONT' id='CHAPTER_V_TIDINGS_FROM_THE_FRONT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> +<h3>TIDINGS FROM THE FRONT.</h3> +</div> +<p>Supper was over, a camp-fire built (for the emigrants +did their cooking by a small camp-stove, and +sat by the light of a fire on the ground), when out +of the darkness came sounds of advancing teams. +Oscar was playing his violin, trying to pick out a +tune for the better singing of Whittier’s song of +the Kansas Emigrants. His father raised his hand +to command silence. “That’s a Yankee teamster, +I’ll be bound,” he said, as the “Woh-hysh! Woh-haw!” +of the coming party fell on his ear. “No +Missourian ever talks to his cattle like that.”</p> +<p>As he spoke, a long, low emigrant wagon, or +“prairie schooner,” drawn by three yoke of dun-colored +oxen, toiled up the road. In the wagon +was a faded-looking woman with two small children +clinging to her. Odds and ends of household +furniture showed themselves over her head from +within the wagon, and strapped on behind was a +coop of fowls, from which came a melancholy +cackle, as if the hens and chickens were weary of +their long journey. A man dressed in butternut-colored +homespun drove the oxen, and a boy about +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +ten years old trudged behind the driver. In the +darkness behind these tramped a small herd of +cows and oxen driven by two other men, and a lad +about the age of Oscar Bryant. The new arrivals +paused in the road, surveyed our friends from +Illinois, stopped the herd of cattle, and then the +man who was driving the wagon said, with an unmistakable +New England twang, “Friends?”</p> +<p>“Friends, most assuredly,” said Mr. Bryant, +with a smile. “I guess you have been having +hard luck, you appear to be so suspicious.”</p> +<p>“Well, we have, and that’s a fact. But we’re +main glad to be able to camp among friends. +Jotham, unyoke the cattle after you have driven +them into the timber a piece.” He assisted the +woman and children to get down from the wagon, +and one of the cattle-drivers coming up, drove the +team into the woods a short distance, and the tired +oxen were soon lying down among the underbrush.</p> +<p>“Well, yes, we <i>have</i> had a pretty hard time getting +here. We are the last free-State men allowed +over the ferry at Parkville. Where be you from?”</p> +<p>“We are from Lee County, Illinois,” replied +Mr. Bryant. “We came in by the way of Parkville, +too, a day or two ago; but we stopped at +Quindaro. Did you come direct from Parkville?”</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/set-054.jpg' alt='' title='' width='573' height='388' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span class='smcap'>The Yankee Emigrant.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span></div> +<p>“Yes,” replied the man. “We came up the +river in the first place, on the steamboat ‘Black +Eagle,’ and when we got to Leavenworth, a big +crowd of Borderers, seeing us and another lot of +free-State men on the boat, refused to let us land. +We had to go down the river again. The captain +of the boat kicked up a great fuss about it, and +wanted to put us ashore on the other side of the +river; but the Missouri men wouldn’t have it. +They put a ‘committee,’ as they called the two +men, on board the steamboat, and they made the +skipper take us down the river.”</p> +<p>“How far down did you go?” asked Bryant, his +face reddening with anger.</p> +<p>“Well, we told the committee that we came +through Ioway, and that to Ioway we must go; so +they rather let up on us, and set us ashore just +opposite Wyandotte. I was mighty ’fraid they’d +make us swear we wouldn’t go back into Kansas +some other way; but they didn’t, and so we +stivered along the road eastwards after they set +us ashore, and then we fetched a half-circle around +and got into Parkville.”</p> +<p>“I shouldn’t wonder if you bought those clothes +that you have got on at Parkville,” said Mr. +Howell, with a smile.</p> +<p>“You guess about right,” said the sad-colored +stranger. “A very nice sort of a man we met at +the fork of the road, as you turn off to go to Parkville +from the river road, told me that my clothes +were too Yankee. I wore ’em all the way from +Woburn, Massachusetts, where we came from, and +I hated to give ’em up. But discretion is better +than valor, I have heern tell; so I made the trade, +and here I am.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span></p> +<p>“We had no difficulty getting across at Parkville,” +said Mr. Bryant, “except that we did have +to go over in the night in a sneaking fashion that +I did not like.”</p> +<p>“Well,” answered the stranger, “as a special +favor, they let us across, seeing that we had had +such hard luck. That’s a nice-looking fiddle you’ve +got there, sonny,” he abruptly interjected, as he +took Oscar’s violin from his unwilling hand. “I +used to play the fiddle once, myself,” he added. +Then, drawing the bow over the strings in a light +and artistic manner, he began to play “Bonnie +Doon.”</p> +<p>“Come, John,” his wife said wearily, “it’s time +the children were under cover. Let go the fiddle +until we’ve had supper.”</p> +<p>John reluctantly handed back the violin, and +the newcomers were soon in the midst of their +preparations for the night’s rest. Later on in the +evening, John Clark, as the head of the party +introduced himself, came over to the Dixon camp, +and gave them all the news. Clark was one of +those who had been helped by the New England +Emigrant Aid Society, an organization with headquarters +in the Eastern States, and with agents in +the West. He had been fitted out at Council +Bluffs, Iowa, but for some unexplained reason had +wandered down as far south as Kansas City, and +there had boarded the “Black Eagle” with his +family and outfit. One of the two men with him +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +was his brother; the other was a neighbor who +had cast in his lot with him. The tall lad was +John Clark’s nephew.</p> +<p>In one way or another, Clark had managed to +pick up much gossip about the country and what +was going on. At Tecumseh, where they would +be due in a day or two if they continued on this +road, an election for county officers was to be held +soon, and the Missourians were bound to get in +there and carry the election. Clark thought they +had better not go straight forward into danger. +They could turn off, and go west by way of +Topeka.</p> +<p>“Why, that would be worse than going to +Tecumseh,” interjected Charlie, who had modestly +kept out of the discussion. “Topeka is the free-State +capital, and they say that there is sure to be +a big battle there, sooner or later.”</p> +<p>But Mr. Bryant resolved that he would go west +by the way of Tecumseh, no matter if fifty thousand +Borderers were encamped there. He asked +the stranger if he had in view any definite point; +to which Clark replied that he had been thinking +of going up the Little Blue; he had heard that +there was plenty of good vacant land there, and +the land office would open soon. He had intended, +he said, to go to Manhattan, and start +from there; but since they had been so cowardly +as to change the name of the place, he had “rather +soured on it.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span></p> +<p>“Manhattan?” exclaimed Charlie, eagerly. +“Where is that place? We have asked a good +many people, but nobody can tell us.”</p> +<p>“Good reason why; they’ve gone and changed +the name. It used to be Boston, but the settlers +around there were largely from Missouri. The +company were Eastern men, and when they settled +on the name of Boston, it got around that they +were all abolitionists; and so they changed it to +Manhattan. Why they didn’t call it New York, +and be done with it, is more than I can tell. But +it was Boston, and it is Manhattan; and that’s all +I want to know about <i>that</i> place.”</p> +<p>Mr. Bryant was equally sure that he did not want +to have anything to do with a place that had changed +its name through fear of anybody or anything.</p> +<p>Next day there was a general changing of minds, +however. It was Sunday, and the emigrants, a +God-fearing and reverent lot of people, did not +move out of camp. Others had come in during +the night, for this was a famous camping-place, +well known throughout all the region. Here were +wood, water, and grass, the three requisites for +campers, as they had already found. The country +was undulating, interlaced with creeks; and groves +of black-jack, oak, and cottonwood were here and +there broken by open glades that would be smiling +fields some day, but were now wild native +grasses.</p> +<p>There was a preacher in the camp, a good man +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +from New England, who preached about the Pilgrim’s +Progress through the world, and the trials +he meets by the way. Oscar pulled his father’s +sleeve, and asked why he did not ask the preacher +to give out “The Kansas Emigrant’s Song” as a +hymn. Mr. Bryant smiled, and whispered that it +was hardly likely that the lines would be considered +just the thing for a religious service. But +after the preaching was over, and the little company +was breaking up, he told the preacher what +Oscar had said. The minister’s eyes sparkled, +and he replied, “What? Have you that beautiful +hymn? Let us have it now and here. Nothing +could be better for this day and this time.”</p> +<p>Oscar, blushing with excitement and native +modesty, was put up high on the stump of a tree, +and, violin in hand, “raised the tune.” It was +grand old “Dundee.” Almost everybody seemed +to know the words of Whittier’s poem, and beneath +the blue Kansas sky, amid the groves of Kansas +trees, the sturdy, hardy men and the few pale +women joyfully, almost tearfully, sang,––</p> +<table style='margin: auto' summary=''><tr><td> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'> +We crossed the prairie, as of old<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>The pilgrims crossed the sea,</span><br /> +To make the West, as they the East,<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>The homestead of the free!</span><br /> + <br /> +We go to rear a wall of men<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>On freedom’s Southern line,</span><br /> +And plant beside the cotton-tree<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>The rugged Northern pine!</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> + <br /> +We’re flowing from our native hills<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>As our free rivers flow;</span><br /> +The blessing of our Mother-land<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>Is on us as we go.</span><br /> + <br /> +We go to plant her common schools<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>On distant prairie swells,</span><br /> +And give the Sabbaths of the wild<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>The music of her bells.</span><br /> + <br /> +Upbearing, like the Ark of old,<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>The Bible in our van,</span><br /> +We go to test the truth of God<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>Against the fraud of man.</span><br /> + <br /> +No pause, nor rest, save where the streams<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>That feed the Kansas run,</span><br /> +Save where our pilgrim gonfalon<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>Shall flout the setting sun!</span><br /> + <br /> +We’ll tread the prairie as of old<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>Our fathers sailed the sea,</span><br /> +And make the West, as they the East,<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>The homestead of the free!</span></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>“It was good to be there,” said Alexander +Howell, his hand resting lovingly on Oscar’s +shoulder, as they went back to camp. But Oscar’s +father said never a word. His face was turned to +the westward, where the sunlight was fading behind +the hills of the far-off frontier of the Promised +Land.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_4' id='linki_4'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/set-060.jpg' alt='' title='' width='576' height='412' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span class='smcap'>Oscar was put up High on the Stump of a Tree, and, Violin in Hand, “Raised the Tune.”</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span></div> +<p>The general opinion gathered that day was that +they who wanted to fight for freedom might better +go to Lawrence, or to Topeka. Those who were +bent on finding homes for themselves and little +ones should press on further to the west, where +there was land in plenty to be had for the asking, +or, rather, for the pre-empting. So, when Monday +morning came, wet, murky, and depressing, Bryant +surrendered to the counsels of his brother-in-law +and the unspoken wish of the boys, and agreed to +go on to the newly-surveyed lands on the tributaries +of the Kaw. They had heard good reports +of the region lying westward of Manhattan and +Fort Riley. The town that had changed its name +was laid out at the confluence of the Kaw and +the Big Blue. Fort Riley was some eighteen or +twenty miles to the westward, near the junction of +the streams that form the Kaw, known as Smoky +Hill Fork and the Republican Fork. On one or +the other of these forks, the valleys of which were +said to be fertile and beautiful beyond description, +the emigrants would find a home. So, braced and +inspired by the consciousness of having a definite +and settled plan, the Dixon party set forth on +Monday morning, through the rain and mist, with +faces to the westward.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI_WESTWARD_HO' id='CHAPTER_VI_WESTWARD_HO'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> +<h3>WESTWARD HO!</h3> +</div> +<p>The following two or three days were wet and +uncomfortable. Rain fell in torrents at times, and +when it did not rain the ground was steamy, +and the emigrants had a hard time to find spots +dry enough on which to make up their beds at +night. This was no holiday journey, and the boys, +too proud to murmur, exchanged significant nods +and winks when they found themselves overtaken +by the discomforts of camping and travelling in +the storm. For the most part, they kept in camp +during the heaviest of the rain. They found that +the yokes of the oxen chafed the poor animals’ +necks when wet.</p> +<p>And then the mud! Nobody had ever seen such +mud, they thought, not even on the black and +greasy fat lands of an Illinois prairie. Sometimes +the wagon sunk in the road, cut up by innumerable +wheels, so that the hubs of their wheels were +almost even with the surface, and it was with the +greatest difficulty that their four yoke of oxen +dragged the wagon from its oozy bed. At times, +too, they were obliged to unhitch their team and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +help out of a mud-hole some other less fortunate +brother wayfarer, whose team was not so powerful +as their own.</p> +<p>One unlucky day, fording a narrow creek with +steep banks, they had safely got across, when they +encountered a slippery incline up which the oxen +could not climb; it was “as slippery as a glare of +ice,” Charlie said, and the struggling cattle sank +nearly to their knees in their frantic efforts to +reach the top of the bank. The wagon had been +“blocked up,” that is to say, the wagon-box raised +in its frame or bed above the axles, with blocks +driven underneath, to lift it above the level of the +stream. As the vehicle was dragged out of the +creek, the leading yoke of cattle struggling up +the bank and then slipping back again, the whole +team of oxen suddenly became panic-stricken, as +it were, and rushed back to the creek in wild confusion. +The wagon twisted upon itself, and cramped +together, creaked, groaned, toppled, and fell over +in a heap, its contents being shot out before and +behind into the mud and water.</p> +<p>“Great Scott!” yelled Sandy. “Let me stop +those cattle!” Whereupon the boy dashed through +the water, and, running around the hinder end of +the wagon, he attempted to head off the cattle. +But the animals, having gone as far as they could +without breaking their chains or the wagon-tongue, +which fortunately held, stood sullenly by the side +of the wreck they had made, panting with their +exertions. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span></p> +<p>“Here is a mess!” said his father; but, without +more words, he unhitched the oxen and drove +them up the bank. The rest of the party hastily +picked up the articles that were drifting about, or +were lodged in the mud of the creek. It was a +sorry sight, and the boys forgot, in the excitement +of the moment, the discomforts and annoyances +of their previous experiences. This was a real +misfortune.</p> +<p>But while Oscar and Sandy were excitedly discussing +what was next to be done, Mr. Howell +took charge of things; the wagon was righted, +and a party of emigrants, camped in a grove of +cottonwoods just above the ford, came down with +ready offers of help. Eight yoke of cattle instead +of four were now hitched to the wagon, and, to +use the expressive language of the West, the outfit +was “snaked” out of the hole in double-quick +time.</p> +<p>“Ho, ho, ho! Uncle Charlie,” laughed Sandy, +“you look as if you had been dragged through +a slough. You are just painted with mud from +top to toe. Well, I never did see such a looking +scarecrow!”</p> +<p>“It’s lucky you haven’t any looking-glass here, +young Impudence. If you could see your mother’s +boy now, you wouldn’t know him. Talk about +looks! Take a look at the youngster, mates,” +said Uncle Charlie, bursting into a laugh. A general +roar followed the look, for Sandy’s appearance +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +was indescribable. In his wild rush through the +waters of the creek, he had covered himself from +head to foot, and the mud from the wagon had +painted his face a brilliant brown; for there is +more or less of red oxide of iron in the mud of +Kansas creeks.</p> +<p>It was a doleful party that pitched its tent that +night on the banks of Soldier Creek and attempted +to dry clothes and provisions by the feeble heat of +a little sheet-iron stove. Only Sandy, the irrepressible +and unconquerable Sandy, preserved his +good temper through the trying experience. “It +is a part of the play,” he said, “and anybody who +thinks that crossing the prairie, ‘as of old the pilgrims +crossed the sea,’ is a Sunday-school picnic, +might better try it with the Dixon emigrants; +that’s all.”</p> +<p>But, after a very moist and disagreeable night, +the sky cleared in the morning. Oscar was out +early, looking at the sky; and when he shouted +“Westward ho!” with a stentorian voice, everybody +came tumbling out to see what was the matter. +A long line of white-topped wagons with +four yoke of oxen to each, eleven teams all told, +was stringing its way along the muddy road in +which the red sun was reflected in pools of red +liquid mud. The wagons were overflowing with +small children; coops of fowls swung from behind, +and a general air of thriftiness seemed to be characteristic +of the company. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span></p> +<p>“Which way are you bound?” asked Oscar, +cheerily.</p> +<p>“Up the Smoky Hill Fork,” replied one of the +ox-drivers. “Solomon’s Fork, perhaps, but somewhere +in that region, anyway.”</p> +<p>One of the company lingered behind to see what +manner of people these were who were so comfortably +camped out in a wall-tent. When he had +satisfied his curiosity, he explained that his companions +had come from northern Ohio, and were +bound to lay out a town of their own in the Smoky +Hill region. Oscar, who listened while his father +drew this information from the stranger, recalled +the fact that the Smoky Hill and the Republican +Forks were the branches of the Kaw. Solomon’s +Fork, he now learned, was one of the tributaries of +the Smoky Hill, nearer to the Republican Fork +than to the main stream. So he said to his father, +when the Ohio man had passed on: “If they settle +on Solomon’s Fork, won’t they be neighbors of +ours, daddy?”</p> +<p>Mr. Bryant took out a little map of the Territory +that he had in his knapsack, and, after some +study, made up his mind that the newcomers +would not be “neighbors enough to hurt,” if they +came no nearer the Republican than Solomon’s +Fork. About thirty-five miles west and south of +Fort Riley, which is at the junction of the Smoky +Hill and the Republican, Solomon’s Fork branches +off to the northwest. Settlers anywhere along +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +that line would not be nearer the other fork than +eighteen or twenty miles at the nearest. Charlie +and Sandy agreed with Oscar that it was quite as +near as desirable neighbors should be. The lads +were already learning something of the spirit of +the West. They had heard of the man who had +moved westward when another settler drove his +stakes twenty miles from his claim, because the +country was “gettin’ too crowded.”</p> +<p>That day, passing through the ragged log village +of Tecumseh, they got their first letters from +home. When they left Illinois, they had not +known just where they would strike, in the Territory, +but they had resolved that they would not go +further west than Tecumseh; and here they were, +with their eyes still fixed toward the west. No +matter; just now, news from home was to be devoured +before anybody could talk of the possible +Kansas home that yet loomed before them in the dim +distance. How good it was to learn all about the +dear ones left at home; to find that Bose was keeping +guard around the house as if he knew that he +was the protector of the two mothers left to themselves +in one home; to hear that the brindle calf had +grown very large, and that a circus was coming to +town the very next day after the letter was written!</p> +<p>“That circus has come and gone without our +seeing it,” said Sandy, solemnly.</p> +<p>“Sandy is as good as a circus, any day,” said his +uncle, fondly. “The greatest show in the country +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +would have been willing to hire you for a sight, +fixed out as you were last night, after we had that +upset in the creek.” The boys agreed that it was +lucky for all hands that the only looking-glass in +camp was the little bit of one hidden away in +Uncle Charlie’s shaving-case.</p> +<p>The next day, to their great discomfiture, they +blundered upon a county election. Trudging into +Libertyville, one of the new mushroom towns +springing up along the military road that leads +from Fort Leavenworth to Fort Riley, they found +a great crowd of people gathered around a log-house +in which the polls were open. Country +officers were to be chosen, and the pro-slavery +men, as the Borderers were now called in this part +of the country, had rallied in great numbers to +carry the election for their men. All was confusion +and tumult. Rough-looking men, well armed +and generally loud voiced, with slouched hats and +long beards, were galloping about, shouting and +making all the noise possible, for no purpose that +could be discovered. “Hooray for Cap’n Pate!” +was the only intelligible cry that the newcomers +could hear; but who Captain Pate was, and why +he should be hurrahed for, nobody seemed to +know. He was not a candidate for anything.</p> +<p>“Hullo! there’s our Woburn friend, John +Clark,” said Mr. Howell. Sure enough, there he +was with a vote in his hand going up to the cabin +where the polls were open. A lane was formed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span> +through the crowd of men who lounged about the +cabin, so that a man going up to the door to vote +was obliged to run the gauntlet, as it were, of one +hundred men, or more, before he reached the door, +the lower half of which was boarded up and the +upper half left open for the election officers to +take and deposit the ballots.</p> +<p>“I don’t believe that man has any right to vote +here,” said Charlie, with an expression of disgust +on his face. “Why, he came into the Territory +with us, only the other day, and he said he was +going up on the Big Blue to settle, and here he is +trying to vote!”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Uncle Charlie, “I allow he has +just as good a right to vote as any of these men +who are running the election. I saw some of +these very men come riding in from Missouri, +when we were one day out of Quindaro.” As he +spoke, John Clark had reached the voting-place, +pursued by many rough epithets flung after him.</p> +<p>He paused before the half-barricaded door and +presented his ballot. “Let’s see yer ticket!” +shouted one of the men who stood guard, one +either side of the cabin-door. He snatched it from +Clark’s hand, looked at it, and simply said, “H’ist!” +The man on the other side of the would-be voter +grinned; then both men seized the Woburn man +by his arms and waist, and, before he could realize +what was happening, he was flung up to the edge +of the roof that projected over the low door. Two +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +other men sitting there grabbed the newcomer by +the shoulders and passed him up the roof to two +others, who, straddling the ridge-pole, were waiting +for him. Then the unfortunate Clark disappeared +over the top of the cabin, sliding down out +of sight on the farther side. The mob set up a +wild cheer, and some of them shouted, “We don’t +want any Yankee votes in this yer ’lection!”</p> +<p>“Shameful! Shameful!” burst forth from Mr. +Bryant. “I have heard of such things before +now, but I must say I never thought I should see +it.” He turned angrily to his brother-in-law as +Mr. Howell joined the boys in their laugh.</p> +<p>“How can you laugh at such a shameful sight, +Aleck Howell? I’m sure it’s something to cry +over, rather than to laugh at––a spectacle like +that! A free American citizen hustled away from +the polls in that disgraceful fashion!”</p> +<p>“But, Charlie,” said Uncle Aleck, “you’ll admit +that it was funny to see the Woburn man hoisted +over that cabin. Besides, I don’t believe he has +any right to vote here; do you?”</p> +<p>“He would have been allowed to vote fast +enough if he had had the sort of ballot that those +fellows want to go into the box. They looked at +his ballot, and as soon as they saw what it was, +they threw him over the cabin.”</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_5' id='linki_5'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/set-070.jpg' alt='' title='' width='373' height='593' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span class='smcap'>The Polls at Libertyville. the Woburn Man is “Hoisted” Over the Cabin.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span></div> +<p>Just then, John Clark came back from the +ravine into which he had slid from the roof of the +log-house, looking very much crestfallen. He +explained that he had met some pro-slavery men on +the road that morning, and they had told him he +could vote, if he chose, and they had furnished +him with the necessary ballot.</p> +<p>“They took in my clothes at a glance,” said +Clark, “and they seemed to suppose that a man +with butternut homespun was true-blue; so they +didn’t ask any questions. I got a free-State ballot +from another man and was a-goin’ to plump it in; +but they were too smart for me, and over I went. +No, don’t you worry; I ain’t a-goin’ up there to try +it ag’in,” he said, angrily, to an insolent horseman, +who, riding up, told him not to venture near the +polls again if he “did not want to be kicked out +like a dog.”</p> +<p>“Come on, neighbor; let’s be goin’,” he said to +Uncle Aleck. “I’ve had enough voting for to-day. +Let’s light out of this town.” Then the +men, taking up their ox-goads, drove out of town. +They had had their first sight of the struggle for +freedom.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII_AT_THE_DIVIDING_OF_THE_WAYS' id='CHAPTER_VII_AT_THE_DIVIDING_OF_THE_WAYS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> +<h3>AT THE DIVIDING OF THE WAYS.</h3> +</div> +<p>The military road, of which I have just spoken, +was constructed by the United States Government +to connect the military posts of the Far West with +one another. Beginning at Fort Leavenworth, on +the Missouri River, it passed through Fort Riley +at the junction of the forks of the Kaw, and then, +still keeping up the north side of the Republican +Fork, went on to Fort Kearney, still farther west, +then to Fort Laramie, which in those days was so +far on the frontier of our country that few people +ever saw it except military men and the emigrants +to California. At the time of which I am writing, +there had been a very heavy emigration to California, +and companies of emigrants, bound to the +Golden Land, still occasionally passed along the +great military road.</p> +<p>Interlacing this highway were innumerable trails +and wagon-tracks, the traces of the great migration +to the Eldorado of the Pacific; and here and there +were the narrow trails made by Indians on their +hunting expeditions and warlike excursions. Roads, +such as our emigrants had been accustomed to in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +Illinois, there were none. First came the faint +traces of human feet and of unshod horses and +ponies; then the well-defined trail of hunters, +trappers, and Indians; then the wagon-track of the +military trains, which, in course of time, were +smoothed and formed into the military road kept +in repair by the United States Government.</p> +<p>Following this road, the Dixon emigrants came +upon the broad, bright, and shallow stream of the +Big Blue. Fording this, they drove into the rough, +new settlement of Manhattan, lately built at the +junction of the Blue and the Kaw rivers.</p> +<p>It was a beautiful May day when the travellers +entered Manhattan. It was an active and a promising +town. Some attempt at the laying out of +streets had been made. A long, low building, +occupied as a hotel, was actually painted, and on +some of the shanties and rude huts of the newly +arrived settlers were signs giving notice of hardware, +groceries, and other commodities for sale +within. On one structure, partly made of sawed +boards and partly of canvas, was painted in sprawling +letters, “Counsellor at Law.”</p> +<p>“You’ll find those fellows out in the Indian +country,” grimly remarked one of the settlers, as +the party surveyed this evidence of an advancing +civilization.</p> +<p>There was a big steam saw-mill hard by the +town, and the chief industry of Manhattan seemed +to be the buying and selling of lumber and hardware, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +and the surveying of land. Mounted men, +carrying the tools and instruments of the surveyor, +galloped about. Few wheeled vehicles except the +ox-carts of emigrants were to be seen anywhere, +and the general aspect of the place was that of +feverish activity. Along the banks of the two +streams were camped parties of the latest comers, +many of whom had brought their wives and children +with them. Parties made up of men only seldom +came as far west as this. They pitched their +tents nearer the Missouri, where the fight for +freedom raged most hotly. A few companies of +men did reach the westernmost edge of the new +settlements, and the Manhattan Company was one +of these.</p> +<p>The three boys from Illinois were absorbed with +wonder as they strolled around the new town, +taking in the novel sights, as they would if they +had been in a great city, instead of a mushroom +town that had arisen in a night. During their +journey from Libertyville to Manhattan, the Dixon +emigrants had lost sight of John Clark, of Woburn; +he had hurried on ahead after his rough experience +with the election guardians of Libertyville. The +boys were wondering if he had reached Manhattan.</p> +<p>“Hullo! There he is now, with all his family +around him,” said Charlie. “He’s got here before +us, and can tell all about the lay of the land to the +west of us, I dare say.”</p> +<p>“I have about made up my mind to squat on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +Hunter’s Creek,” said Clark, when the boys had +saluted him. “Pretty good land on Hunter’s, so +I am told; no neighbors, and the land has been +surveyed off by the Government surveyors. Hunter’s +Creek? Well, that’s about six miles above +the fort. It makes into the Republican, and, so +they tell me, there’s plenty of wood along the +creek, and a good lot of oak and hickory not far +off. Timber is what we all want, you know.”</p> +<p>As for Bartlett, who had come out from New +England with the Clarks, he was inclined to go to +the lower side of the Republican Fork, taking to +the Smoky Hill country. That was the destination +of the Jenness party, who had passed the +Dixon boys when they were camped after their +upset in the creek, several days before. This +would leave the Clarks––John and his wife and +two children, and his brother Jotham, and Jotham’s +boy, Pelatiah––to make a settlement by themselves +on Hunter’s Creek.</p> +<p>Which way were the Dixon boys going? Charlie, +the spokesman of the party because he was the +eldest, did not know. His father and uncle were +out prospecting among the campers now. Sandy +was sure that they would go up the Republican +Fork. His father had met one of the settlers from +that region, and had been very favorably impressed +with his report. This Republican Fork man was +an Arkansas man, but “a good fellow,” so Sandy +said. To be a good fellow, according to Sandy’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +way of putting things, was to be worthy of all +confidence and esteem.</p> +<p>Mr. Bryant thought that as there were growing +rumors of troublesome Indians, it would be better +to take the southern or Smoky Hill route; the +bulk of the settlers were going that way, and where +there were large numbers there would be safety. +While the lads were talking with the Clarks, +Bryant and his brother-in-law came up, and, after +greeting their former acquaintance and ascertaining +whither he was bound, Mr. Howell told the boys +that they had been discussing the advantages of +the two routes with Younkins, the settler from +Republican Fork, and had decided to go on to +“the post,” as Fort Riley was generally called, +and there decide which way they should go––to +the right or to the left.</p> +<p>As to the Clarks, they were determined to take +the trail for Hunter’s Creek that very day. Bartlett +decided to go to the Smoky Hill country. He +cast in his lot with a party of Western men, who +had heard glowing reports of the fertility and +beauty of the region lying along Solomon’s Fork, +a tributary of the Smoky Hill. It was in this way +that parties split up after they had entered the +Promised Land.</p> +<p>Leaving the Clarks to hitch up their teams and +part company with Bartlett, the Dixon party returned +to their camp, left temporarily in the care +of Younkins, who had come to Manhattan for a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +few supplies, and who had offered to guide the +others to a desirable place for settlement which +he told them he had in mind for them. Younkins +was a kindly and pleasant-faced man, simple in his +speech and frontier-like in his manners. Sandy +conceived a strong liking for him as soon as they +met. The boy and the man were friends at once.</p> +<p>“Well, you see,” said Younkins, sitting down +on the wagon-tongue, when the party had returned +to their camp, “I have been thinking over-like the +matter that we were talking about, and I have +made up my mind-like that I sha’n’t move back to +my claim on the south side of the Republican. I’m +on the north side, you know, and my old claim on +the south side will do just right for my brother +Ben; he’s coming out in the fall. Now if you +want to go up our way, you can have the cabin on +that claim. There’s nobody living in it. It’s no +great of a cabin, but it’s built of hewed timber, +well chinked and comfortable-like. You can have +it till Ben comes out, and I’m just a-keeping it for +Ben, you know. P’raps he won’t want it, and if +he doesn’t, why, then you and he can make some +kind of a dicker-like, and you might stay on till +you could do better.”</p> +<p>“That’s a very generous offer of Mr. Younkins’s, +Charles,” said Mr. Howell to Bryant. “I don’t +believe we could do better than take it up.”</p> +<p>“No, indeed,” burst in the impetuous Sandy. +“Why, just think of it! A house already built!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span></p> +<p>“Little boys should be seen, not heard,” said his +elder brother, reprovingly. “Suppose you and I +wait to see what the old folks have to say before +we chip in with any remarks.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I know what Uncle Charlie will say,” +replied the lad, undismayed. “He’ll say that the +Smoky Hill road is the road to take. Say, Uncle +Charlie, you see that Mr. Younkins here is willing +to live all alone on the bank of the Republican +Fork, without any neighbors at all. He isn’t afraid +of Indians.”</p> +<p>Mr. Bryant smiled, and said that he was not +afraid of Indians, but he thought that there might +come a time when it would be desirable for a community +to stand together as one man. “Are you +a free-State man?” he asked Younkins. This +was a home-thrust. Younkins came from a slave +State; he was probably a pro-slavery man.</p> +<p>“I’m neither a free-State man nor yet a pro-slavery +man,” he said, slowly, and with great deliberation. +“I’m just for Younkins all the time. +Fact is,” he continued, “where I came from most +of us are pore whites. I never owned but one +darky, and I had him from my grandfather. Ben +and me, we sorter quarrelled-like over that darky. +Ben, he thought he oughter had him, and I +knowed my grandfather left him to me. So I sold +him off, and the neighbors didn’t seem to like it. +I don’t justly know why they didn’t like it; but +they didn’t. Then Ben, he allowed that I had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span> +better light out. So I lit out, and here I am. No, +I’m no free-State man, and then ag’in, I’m no +man for slavery. I’m just for Younkins. Solomon +Younkins is my name.”</p> +<p>Bryant was very clearly prejudiced in favor +of the settler from the Republican Fork by this +speech; and yet he thought it best to move on to +the fort that day and take the matter into consideration.</p> +<p>So he said that if Younkins would accept the +hospitality of their tent, the Dixon party would +be glad to have him pass the night with them. +Younkins had a horse on which he had ridden +down from his place, and with which he had intended +to reach home that night. But, for the +sake of inducing the new arrivals to go up into his +part of the country, he was willing to stay.</p> +<p>“I should think you would be afraid to leave +your wife and baby all alone there in the wilderness,” +said Sandy, regarding his new friend with +evident admiration. “No neighbor nearer than +Hunter’s Creek, did you say? How far off is +that?”</p> +<p>“Well, a matter of six miles-like,” replied Younkins. +“It isn’t often that I do leave them alone +over night; but then I have to once in a while. +My old woman, she doesn’t mind it. She was sort +of skeary-like when she first came into the country; +but she’s got used to it. We don’t want any +neighbors. If you folks come up to settle, you’ll +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +be on the other side of the river,” he said, with +unsmiling candor. “That’s near enough––three +or four miles, anyway.”</p> +<p>Fort Riley is about ten miles from Manhattan, +at the forks of the Kaw. It was a long drive for +one afternoon; but the settlers from Illinois camped +on the edge of the military reservation that night. +When the boys, curious to see what the fort was +like, looked over the premises next morning, they +were somewhat disappointed to find that the post +was merely a quadrangle of buildings constructed +of rough-hammered stone. A few frame houses +were scattered about. One of these was the sutler’s +store, just on the edge of the reservation. +But, for the most part, the post consisted of two- +or three-story buildings arranged in the form of +a hollow square. These were barracks, officers’ +quarters, and depots for the storage of military +supplies and army equipments.</p> +<p>“Why, this is no fort!” said Oscar, contemptuously. +“There isn’t even a stockade. What’s to +prevent a band of Indians raiding through the +whole place? I could take it myself, if I had men +enough.”</p> +<p>His cousin Charlie laughed, and said: “Forts +are not built out here nowadays to defend a garrison. +The army men don’t propose to let the +Indians get near enough to the post to threaten +it. The fact is, I guess, this fort is only a depot-like, +as our friend Younkins would say, for the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +soldiers and for military stores. They don’t expect +ever to be besieged here; but if there should +happen to be trouble anywhere along the frontier, +then the soldiers would be here, ready to fly out +to the rescue, don’t you see?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” answered Sandy; “and when a part of +the garrison had gone to the rescue, as you call +it, another party of redskins would swoop down +and gobble up the remnant left at the post.”</p> +<p>“If I were you, Master Sandy,” said his brother, +“I wouldn’t worry about the soldiers. Uncle Sam +built this fort, and there are lots of others like it. +I don’t know for sure, but my impression is that +Uncle Sam knows what is best for the use of the +military and for the defence of the frontier. So +let’s go and take a look at the sutler’s store. I +want to buy some letter-paper.”</p> +<p>The sutler, in those days, was a very important +person in the estimation of the soldiers of a frontier +post. Under a license from the War Department +of the Government, he kept a store in which +was everything that the people at the post could +possibly need. Crowded into the long building +of the Fort Riley sutler were dry-goods, groceries, +hardware, boots and shoes, window-glass, rope +and twine, and even candy of a very poor sort. +Hanging from the ceiling of this queer warehouse +were sides of smoked meat, strings of onions, oilcloth +suits, and other things that were designed +for the comfort or convenience of the officers and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +soldiers, and were not provided by the Government.</p> +<p>“I wonder what soldiers want of calico and +ribbons,” whispered Sandy, with a suppressed +giggle, as the three lads went prying about.</p> +<p>“Officers and soldiers have their wives and +children here, you greeny,” said his brother, +sharply. “Look out there and see ’em.”</p> +<p>And, sure enough, as Sandy’s eyes followed the +direction of his brother’s, he saw two prettily +dressed ladies and a group of children walking +over the smooth turf that filled the square in the +midst of the fort. It gave Sandy a homesick +feeling, this sight of a home in the wilderness. +Here were families of grown people and children, +living apart from the rest of the world. They +had been here long before the echo of civil strife +in Kansas had reached the Eastern States, and +before the first wave of emigration had touched +the head-waters of the Kaw. Here they were, +a community by themselves, uncaring, apparently, +whether slavery was voted up or down. At least, +some such thought as this flitted through Sandy’s +mind as he looked out upon the leisurely life of +the fort, just beginning to stir.</p> +<p>All along the outer margin of the reservation +were grouped the camps of emigrants; not many +of them, but enough to present a curious and +picturesque sight. There were a few tents, but +most of the emigrants slept in or under their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +wagons. There were no women or children in +these camps, and the hardy men had been so well +seasoned by their past experiences, journeying to +this far western part of the Territory, that they +did not mind the exposure of sleeping on the +ground and under the open skies. Soldiers from +the fort, off duty and curious to hear the news +from the outer world, came lounging around the +camps and chatted with the emigrants in that +cool, superior manner that marks the private soldier +when he meets a civilian on equal footing, +away from the haunts of men.</p> +<p>The boys regarded these uniformed military +servants of the Government of the United States +with great respect, and even with some awe. +These, they thought to themselves, were the men +who were there to fight Indians, to protect the +border, and to keep back the rising tide of wild +hostilities that might, if it were not for them, +sweep down upon the feeble Territory and even +inundate the whole Western country.</p> +<p>“Perhaps some of Black Hawk’s descendants +are among the Indians on this very frontier,” said +Oscar, impressively. “And these gold-laced chaps, +with shoulder-straps on, are the Zack Taylors and +the Robert Andersons who do the fighting,” added +Charlie, with a laugh.</p> +<p>Making a few small purchases from the surly +sutler of Fort Riley, and then canvassing with the +emigrants around the reservation the question of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +routes and locations, our friends passed the forenoon. +The elders of the party had anxiously discussed +the comparative merits of the Smoky Hill +and the Republican Fork country and had finally +yielded to the attractions of a cabin ready-built +in Younkins’s neighborhood, with a garden patch +attached, and had decided to go in that direction.</p> +<p>“This is simply bully!” said Sandy Howell, as +the little caravan turned to the right and drove up +the north bank of the Republican Fork.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII_THE_SETTLERS_AT_HOME' id='CHAPTER_VIII_THE_SETTLERS_AT_HOME'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> +<h3>THE SETTLERS AT HOME.</h3> +</div> +<p>A wide, shallow river, whose turbid waters were +yellow with the freshets of early summer, shadowed +by tall and sweeping cottonwoods and water-maples; +shores gently sloping to the current, save +where a tall and rocky bluff broke the prospect up +stream; thickets of oaks, alders, sycamores, and +persimmons––this was the scene on which the Illinois +emigrants arrived, as they journeyed to their +new home in the far West. On the north bank of +the river, only a few hundred rods from the stream, +was the log-cabin of Younkins. It was built on +the edge of a fine bit of timber land, in which +oaks and hickories were mingled with less valuable +trees. Near by the cabin, and hugging closely up +to it, was a thrifty field of corn and other garden +stuff, just beginning to look promising of good +things to come; and it was a refreshing sight here +in the wilderness, for all around was the virgin +forest and the unbroken prairie.</p> +<p>Younkins’s wife, a pale, sallow, and anxious-looking +woman, and Younkins’s baby boy, chubby +and open-eyed, welcomed the strangers without +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +much show of feeling other than a natural curiosity. +With Western hospitality, the little cabin +was found large enough to receive all the party, +and the floor was covered with blankets and buffalo-skins +when they lay down to sleep their first night +near their future home in the country of the Republican +Fork. The boys were very happy that +their journey was at an end. They had listened +with delight while Younkins told stories of buffalo +and antelope hunting, of Indian “scares,” and of +the many queer adventures of settlers on this distant +frontier.</p> +<p>“What is there west of this?” asked Charlie, +as the party were dividing the floor and the shallow +loft among themselves for the night.</p> +<p>“Nothing but Indians and buffalo,” said Younkins, +sententiously.</p> +<p>“No settlers anywhere?” cried Sandy, eagerly.</p> +<p>“The next settlement west of here, if you can +call it a settlement, is Fort Kearney, on the other +side of the Platte. From here to there, there isn’t +so much as a hunter’s camp, so far as I know.” +This was Younkins’s last word, as he tumbled, +half dressed, into his bunk in one corner of the +cabin. Sandy hugged his brother Charlie before +he dropped off to sleep, and whispered in his ear, +“We’re on the frontier at last! It’s just splendid!”</p> +<p>Next day, leaving their cattle and wagon at the +Younkins homestead, the party, piloted by their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +good-natured future neighbor, forded the Fork and +went over into the Promised Land. The river +was rather high as yet; for the snow, melting in +the far-off Rocky Mountains as the summer advanced, +had swollen all the tributaries of the +Republican Fork, and the effects of the rise were +to be seen far down on the Kaw. The newcomers +were initiated into the fashion of the country by +Younkins, who directed each one to take off all +clothes but his shirt and hat. Then their garments +were rolled up in bundles, each man and +boy taking his own on his head, and wading deliberately +into the water, the sedate Younkins being +the leader.</p> +<p>It seemed a little dangerous. The stream was +about one hundred rods wide, and the current was +tolerably swift, swollen by the inrush of smaller +streams above. The water was cold, and made an +ominous swishing and gurgling among the underbrush +that leaned into the margin of the river. In +Indian file, Mr. Howell bringing up the rear, and +keeping his eyes anxiously upon the lads before +him, they all crossed in safety, Sandy, the shortest +of the party, being unable to keep dry the only +garment he had worn, for the water came well up +under his arms.</p> +<p>“Well, that was funny, anyhow,” he blithely +remarked, as he wrung the water out of his shirt, +and, drying himself as well as he could, dressed +and joined the rest of the party in the trip toward +their future home. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span></p> +<p>Along the lower bank of the Republican Fork, +where the new settlers now found themselves, the +country is gently undulating. Bordering the stream +they saw a dense growth of sycamores, cottonwoods, +and birches. Some of these trees were tall and +handsome, and the general effect on the minds of +the newcomers was delightful. After they had +emerged from the woods that skirted the river, +they were in the midst of a lovely rolling prairie, +the forest on the right; on their left was a thick +growth of wood that marked the winding course +of a creek which, rising far to the west, emptied +into the Republican Fork at a point just below +where the party had forded the stream. The land +rose gradually from the point nearest the ford, +breaking into a low, rocky bluff beyond at their +right and nearest the river, a mile away, and rolling +off to the southwest in folds and swales.</p> +<p>Just at the foot of the little bluff ahead, with +a background of trees, was a log-cabin of hewn +timber, weather-stained and gray in the summer +sun, absolutely alone, and looking as if lost in this +untrodden wild. Pointing to it, Younkins said, +“That’s your house so long as you want it.”</p> +<p>The emigrants tramped through the tall, lush +grass that covered every foot of the new Kansas +soil, their eyes fixed eagerly on the log-cabin before +them. The latch-string hung out hospitably from +the door of split “shakes,” and the party entered +without ado. Everything was just as Younkins +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +had last left it. Two or three gophers, disturbed +in their foraging about the premises, fled swiftly +at the entrance of the visitors, and a flock of blackbirds, +settled around the rear of the house, flew +noisily across the creek that wound its way down +to the Fork.</p> +<p>The floor was of puncheons split from oak logs, +and laid loosely on rough-hewn joists. These rattled +as the visitors walked over them. At one end +of the cabin a huge fireplace of stone laid in clay +yawned for the future comfort of the new tenants. +Near by, a rude set of shelves suggested a +pantry, and a table, home-made and equally rude, +stood in the middle of the floor. In one corner +was built a bedstead, two sides of the house furnishing +two sides of the work, and the other two +being made by driving a stake into the floor, and +connecting that by string-pieces to the sides of the +cabin. Thongs of buffalo-hide formed the bottom +of this novel bedstead. A few stools and short +benches were scattered about. Near the fireplace +long and strong pegs, driven into the logs, served +as a ladder, on which one could climb to the low +loft overhead. Two windows, each of twelve small +panes of glass, let in the light, one from the end +of the cabin, and one from the back opposite the +door, which was in the middle of the front. Outside, +a frail shanty of shakes leaned against the +cabin, affording a sort of outdoor kitchen for summer +use. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span></p> +<p>“So this is home,” said Charlie, gazing about. +“What will mother say to this––if she ever gets +here?”</p> +<p>“Well, we’ve taken a heap of comfort here, my +old woman and me,” said Younkins, looking around +quickly, and with an air of surprise. “It’s a mighty +comfortable house; leastways we think so.”</p> +<p>Charlie apologized for having seemed to cast any +discredit on the establishment. Only he said that +he did not suppose that his mother knew much +about log-cabins. As for himself, he would like +nothing better than this for a home for a long time +to come. “For,” he added, roguishly, “you know +we have come to make the West, ‘as they the +East, the homestead of the free.’”</p> +<p>Mr. Younkins looked puzzled, but made no remark. +The younger boys, after taking in the situation +and fondly inspecting every detail of the +premises, enthusiastically agreed that nothing could +be finer than this. They darted out of doors, and +saw a corral, or pound, in which the cattle could +be penned up, in case of need. There was a small +patch of fallow ground, that needed only to be +spaded up to become a promising garden-spot. +Then, swiftly running to the top of the little bluff +beyond, they gazed over the smiling panorama of +emerald prairie, laced with woody creeks, level +fields, as yet undisturbed by the ploughshare, blue, +distant woods and yet more distant hills, among +which, to the northwest, the broad river wound +and disappeared. Westward, nothing was to be +seen but the green and rolling swales of the virgin +prairie, broken here and there by an outcropping +of rock. And as they looked, a tawny, yellowish +creature trotted out from behind a roll of the +prairie, sniffed in the direction of the boys, and +then stealthily disappeared in the wildness of the +vast expanse.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_6' id='linki_6'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/set-090.jpg' alt='' title='' width='564' height='390' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span class='smcap'>The Settlers’ First Home in the Deserted Cabin.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span></div> +<p>“A coyote,” said Sandy, briefly. “I’ve seen +them in Illinois. But I wish I had my gun now.” +His wiser brother laughed as he told him that it +would be a long day before a coyote could be got +near enough to be knocked over with any shot-gun. +The coyote, or prairie-wolf, is the slyest +animal that walks on four legs.</p> +<p>The three men and Charlie returned to the +further side of the Fork, and made immediate +preparations to move all their goods and effects +to the new home of the emigrants. Sandy and +Oscar, being rather too small to wade the stream +without discomfort, while it was so high, were left +on the south bank to receive the returning party.</p> +<p>There the boys sat, hugely enjoying the situation, +while the others were loading the wagon and +yoking the oxen on the other side. The lads +could hear the cheery sounds of the men talking, +although they could not see them through the +trees that lined the farther bank of the river. The +flow of the stream made a ceaseless lapping against +the brink of the shore. A party of catbirds quarrelled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +sharply in the thicket hard by; quail whistled +in the underbrush of the adjacent creek, and +overhead a solitary eagle circled slowly around as +if looking down to watch these rude invaders of +the privacy of the dominion that had existed ever +since the world began.</p> +<p>Hugging his knees in measureless content, as +they sat in the grass by the river, Sandy asked, +almost in a whisper, “Have you ever been homesick +since we left Dixon, Oscar?”</p> +<p>“Just once, Sandy; and that was yesterday +when I saw those nice-looking ladies at the fort +out walking in the morning with their children. +That was the first sight that looked like home +since we crossed the Missouri.”</p> +<p>“Me, too,” answered Sandy, soberly. “But +this is just about as fine as anything can be. Only +think of it, Oscar! There are buffalo and antelopes +within ten or fifteen miles of here. I know, +for Younkins told me so. And Indians,––not wild +Indians, but tame ones that are at peace with the +whites. It seems too good to have happened to +us; doesn’t it, Oscar?”</p> +<p>Once more the wagon was blocked up for a difficult +ford, the lighter and more perishable articles +of its load being packed into a dugout, or canoe +hollowed from a sycamore log, which was the +property of Younkins, and used only at high stages +of the water. The three men guided the wagon +and oxen across while Charlie, stripped to his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +shirt, pushed the loaded dugout carefully over, +and the two boys on the other bank, full of the +importance of the event, received the solitary voyager, +unloaded the canoe, and then transferred the +little cargo to the wagon. The caravan took its +way up the rolling ground of the prairie to the log-cabin. +Willing hands unloaded and took into the +house the tools, provisions, and clothes that constituted +their all, and, before the sun went down, +the settlers were at home.</p> +<p>While in Manhattan, they had supplied themselves +with potatoes; at Fort Riley they had +bought fresh beef from the sutler. Sandy made a +glorious fire in the long-disused fireplace. His +father soon had a batch of biscuits baking in the +covered kettle, or Dutch oven, that they had +brought with them from home. Charlie’s contribution +to the repast was a pot of excellent coffee, +the milk for which, an unaccustomed luxury, was +supplied by the thoughtfulness of Mrs. Younkins. +So, with thankful hearts, they gathered around +their frugal board and took their first meal in their +new home.</p> +<p>When supper was done and the cabin, now +lighted by the scanty rays of two tallow candles, +had been made tidy for the night, Oscar took out +his violin, and, after much needed tuning, struck +into the measure of wild, warbling “Dundee.” +All hands took the hint, and all voices were raised +once more to the words of Whittier’s song of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +“Kansas Emigrants.” Perhaps it was with new +spirit and new tenderness that they sang,––</p> +<table style='margin: auto' summary=''><tr><td> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'> +“No pause, nor rest, save where the streams<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>That feed the Kansas run,</span><br /> +Save where the pilgrim gonfalon<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>Shall flout the setting sun!”</span></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>“I don’t know what the pilgrim’s gonfalon is,” +said Sandy, sleepily, “but I guess it’s all right.” +The emigrants had crossed the prairies as of old +their father had crossed the sea. They were now +at home in the New West. The night fell dark +and still about their lonely cabin as, with hope and +trust, they laid them down to peaceful dreams.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX_SETTING_THE_STAKES' id='CHAPTER_IX_SETTING_THE_STAKES'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> +<h3>SETTING THE STAKES.</h3> +</div> +<p>“We mustn’t let any grass grow under our feet, +boys,” was Mr. Aleck Howell’s energetic remark, +next morning, when the little party had finished +their first breakfast in their new home.</p> +<p>“That means work, I s’pose,” replied Oscar, +turning a longing glance to his violin hanging on +the side of the cabin, with a broken string crying +for repairs.</p> +<p>“Yes, and hard work, too,” said his father, noting +the lad’s look. “Luckily for us, Brother +Aleck,” he continued, “our boys are not afraid +of work. They have been brought up to it, and +although I am thinking they don’t know much +about the sort of work that we shall have to put +in on these beautiful prairies, I guess they will +buckle down to it. Eh?” and the loving father +turned his look from the grassy and rolling plain +to his son’s face.</p> +<p>Sandy answered for him. “Oh, yes, Uncle +Charlie, we all like work! Afraid of work? +Why, Oscar and I are so used to it that we would +be willing to lie right down by the side of it, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +sleep as securely as if it were as harmless as a +kitten! Afraid of work? Never you fear ‘the +Dixon boys who fear no noise’––what’s the rest +of that song?”</p> +<p>Nobody knew, and, in the laugh that followed, +Mr. Howell suggested that as Younkins was coming +over the river to show them the stakes of their +new claims, the boys might better set an extra plate +at dinner-time. It was very good of Younkins to +take so much trouble on their account, and the least +they could do was to show him proper hospitality.</p> +<p>“What is all this about stakes and quarter-sections, +anyway, father?” asked Sandy. “I’m +sure I don’t know.”</p> +<p>“He doesn’t know what quarter-sections are!” +shouted Charlie. “Oh, my! what an ignoramus!”</p> +<p>“Well, what is a quarter-section, as you are so +knowing?” demanded Sandy. “I don’t believe +you know yourself.”</p> +<p>“It is a quarter of a section of public land,” +answered the lad. “Every man or single woman +of mature age––I think that is what the books +say––who doesn’t own several hundred acres of +land elsewhere (I don’t know just how many) is +entitled to enter on and take up a quarter of a +section of unoccupied public land, and have it for +a homestead. That’s all,” and Charlie looked to +his father for approval.</p> +<p>“Pretty good, Charlie,” said his uncle. “How +many acres are there in a quarter-section of land?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span></p> +<p>“Yes, how many acres in a quarter of a section?” +shouted Sandy, who saw that his brother +hesitated. “Speak up, my little man, and don’t +be afraid!”</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” replied the lad, frankly.</p> +<p>“Good for you!” said his father. “Never be +afraid of saying that you don’t know when you do +<i>not</i> know. The fear of confessing ignorance is +what has wrecked many a young fellow’s chances +for finding out things he should know.”</p> +<p>“Well, boys,” said Mr. Bryant, addressing himself +to the three lads, “all the land of the United +States Government that is open to settlement is +laid off in townships six miles square. These, in +turn, are laid off into sections of six hundred and +forty acres each. Now, then, how much land +should there be in a quarter-section?”</p> +<p>“One hundred and sixty acres!” shouted all +three boys at once, breathlessly.</p> +<p>“Correct. The Government allows every man, +or single woman of mature age, widow or unmarried, +to go upon a plot of land, not more than one +hundred and sixty acres nor less than forty acres, +and to improve it, and live upon it. If he stays +there, or ‘maintains a continuous residence,’ as the +lawyers say, for a certain length of time, the Government +gives him a title-deed at the end of that +time, and he owns the land.”</p> +<p>“What?––free, gratis, and for nothing?” cried +Sandy. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span></p> +<p>“Certainly,” said his uncle. “The homestead +law was passed by Congress to encourage the +settlement of the lands belonging to the Government. +You see there is an abundance of these +lands,––so much, in fact, that they have not yet +been all laid off into townships and sections and +quarter-sections. If a large number of homestead +claims are taken up, then other settlers will be +certain to come in and buy the lands that the +Government has to sell; and that will make settlements +grow throughout that locality.”</p> +<p>“Why should they buy when they can get land +for nothing by entering and taking possession, just +as we are going to do?” interrupted Oscar.</p> +<p>“Because, my son, many of the men cannot +make oath that they have not taken up Government +land somewhere else; and then, again, many +men are going into land speculations, and they +don’t care to wait five years to prove up a homestead +claim. So they go upon the land, stake out +their claim, and the Government sells it to them +outright at the rate of a dollar and a quarter an +acre.”</p> +<p>“Cash down?” asked Charlie.</p> +<p>“No, they need not pay cash down unless they +choose. The Government allows them a year to +pay up in. But land speculators who make a +business of this sort of thing generally pay up +just as soon as they are allowed to, and then, if +they get a good offer to sell out, they sell and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +move off somewhere else, and do the same thing +over again.”</p> +<p>“People have to pay fees, don’t they, Uncle +Charlie?” said Sandy. “I know they used to talk +about land-office fees, in Dixon. How much does +it cost in fees to enter a piece of Government +land?”</p> +<p>“I think it is about twenty-five dollars––twenty-six, +to be exact,” replied Mr. Bryant. “There +comes Younkins,” he added, looking down the +trail to the river bank below.</p> +<p>The boys had been washing and putting away +the breakfast things while this conversation was +going on, and Sandy, balancing in the air a big +tin pan on his fingers, asked: “How much land +can we fellows enter, all told?” The two men +laughed.</p> +<p>“Well, Alexander,” said his father, ceremoniously, +“We two ‘fellows,’ that is to say, your +Uncle Charlie and myself, can enter one hundred +and sixty acres apiece. Charlie will be able to +enter the same quantity three years from now, +when he will be twenty-one; and as for you and +Oscar, if you each add to your present years as +many as will make you twenty-one, you can tell +when you will be able to enter and own the same +amount of land; provided it is not all gone by +that time. Good morning, Mr. Younkins.” Sandy’s +pan came down with a crash on the puncheon floor.</p> +<p>The land around that region of the Republican +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +Fork had been surveyed into sections of +six hundred and forty acres each; but it would +be necessary to secure the services of a local +surveyor to find out just where the boundaries +of each quarter-section were. The stakes were +set at the corner of each section, and Younkins +thought that by pacing off the distance between +two corners they could get at the point that +would mark the middle of the section; then, by +running lines across from side to side, thus: +<img alt='' src='images/set-box.png' /> +they could get at the quarter-sections nearly +enough to be able to tell about where their boundaries +were.</p> +<p>“But suppose you should build a house, or +plough a field, on some other man’s quarter-section,” +suggested Charlie, “wouldn’t you feel cheap +when the final survey showed that you had all +along been improving your neighbor’s property?”</p> +<p>“There isn’t any danger of that,” answered +Younkins, “if you are smart enough to keep well +away from your boundary line when you are putting +in your improvements. Some men are not +smart enough, though. There was a man over on +Chapman’s Creek who wanted to have his log-cabin +on a pretty rise of ground-like, that was on +the upper end of his claim. He knew that the line +ran somewhere about there; but he took chances-like, +and when the line was run, a year after that, +lo, and behold! his house and garden-like were +both clean over into the next man’s claim.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span></p> +<p>“What did he do?” asked Charlie. “Skip out +of the place?”</p> +<p>“Sho! No, indeed! His neighbor was a white +man-like, and they just took down the cabin and +carried it across the boundary line and set it up +again on the man’s own land. He’s livin’ there +yet; but he lost his garden-like; couldn’t move +that, you see”; and Younkins laughed one of his +infrequent laughs.</p> +<p>The land open to the settlers on the south side +of the Republican Fork was all before them. +Nothing had been taken up within a distance as +far as they could see. Chapman’s Creek, just +referred to by Younkins, was eighteen or twenty +miles away. From the point at which they stood +and toward Chapman’s, the land was surveyed; but +to the westward the surveys ran only just across +the creek, which, curving from the north and west, +made a complete circuit around the land and +emptied into the Fork, just below the fording-place. +Inside of that circuit, the land, undulating, +and lying with a southern exposure, was destitute +of trees. It was rich, fat land, but there was not +a tree on it except where it crossed the creek, the +banks of which were heavily wooded. Inside of +that circuit somewhere, the two men must stake +out their claim. There was nothing but rich, unshaded +land, with a meandering woody creek flowing +through the bottom of the two claims, provided +they were laid out side by side. The corner stakes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +were found, and the men prepared to pace off the +distance between the corners so as to find the +centre.</p> +<p>“It is a pity there is no timber anywhere,” said +Howell, discontentedly. “We shall have to go +several miles for timber enough to build our cabins. +We don’t want to cut down right away what little +there is along the creek.”</p> +<p>“Timber?” said Younkins, reflectively. “Timber? +Well, if one of you would put up with a +quarter-section of farming land, then the other +can enter some of the timber land up on the North +Branch.”</p> +<p>Now, the North Branch was two miles and a +half from the cabin in which the Dixon party were +camped; and that cabin was two miles from the +beautiful slopes on which the intending settlers +were now looking for an opportunity to lay out +their two claims. The two men looked at each +other. Could they divide and settle this far apart +for the sake of getting a timber lot?</p> +<p>It was Sandy who solved the problem. “I’ll +tell you what to do, father!” he cried, eagerly: +“you take up the timber claim on the North +Branch, and we boys can live there; then you +and Uncle Charlie can keep one of the claims +here. We can build two cabins, and you old folks +can live in one, and we in another.”</p> +<p>The fathers exchanged glances, and Mr. Howell +said, “I don’t see how I could live without Sandy +and Charlie.”</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_7' id='linki_7'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/set-102.jpg' alt='' title='' width='564' height='328' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span class='smcap'>Younkins Argued that Settlers were Entitled to all they Could Get and Hold.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span></div> +<p>Younkins brightened up at Sandy’s suggestion; +and he added that the two men might take up two +farming claims, side by side, and let the boys try +and hold the timber claim on the North Branch. +Thus far, there was no rush of emigration to the +south side of the Republican Fork. Most of the +settlers went further to the south; or they halted +further east, and fixed their stakes along the line +of the Big Blue and other more accessible regions.</p> +<p>“We’ll chance it, won’t we, Aleck?” said Mr. +Bryant.</p> +<p>Mr. Howell looked vaguely off over the rolling +slope on which they were standing, and said: “We +will chance it with the boys on the timber land, +but I am not in favor of taking up two claims here. +Let the timber claim be in my name or yours, and +the boys can live on it. But we can’t take up two +claims here and the timber besides––three in all––with +only two full-grown men among the whole of +us. That stands to reason.”</p> +<p>Younkins was a little puzzled by the strictness +with which the two newcomers were disposed to +regard their rights and duties as actual settlers. +He argued that settlers were entitled to all they +could get and hold; and he was in favor of the +party’s trying to hold three claims of one hundred +and sixty acres each, even if there were only two +men legally entitled to enter homesteads. Wouldn’t +Charlie be of age before the time came to take out +a patent for the land? +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span></p> +<p>“But he is not of age to enter upon and hold +the land now,” said his father, stiffly.</p> +<p>So it was settled that the two men should enter +upon the quarter-section of farming land, and build +a cabin as soon as convenient, and that the claim +on the North Fork, which had a fine grove of timber +on it, should be set apart for the boys, and a +cabin built there, too. The cabin in the timber +need not be built until late in the autumn; that +claim could be taken up by Mr. Howell, or by Mr. +Bryant; by and by they would draw lots to decide +which. Before sundown that night, they had +staked out the corners of the one hundred and +sixty acre lot of farming land, on which the party +had arrived in the morning.</p> +<p>It was dark before they returned from looking +over the timber land in the bend of the North Fork +of the Republican.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_X_DRAWING_THE_FIRST_FURROW' id='CHAPTER_X_DRAWING_THE_FIRST_FURROW'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> +<h3>DRAWING THE FIRST FURROW.</h3> +</div> +<p>The good-natured Younkins was on hand bright +and early the next morning, to show the new +settlers where to cut the first furrow on the land +which they had determined to plough. Having +decided to take the northwest corner of the quarter-section +selected, it was easy to find the stake set +at the corner. Then, having drawn an imaginary +line from the stake to that which was set in the +southwest corner, the tall Charlie standing where +he could he used as a sign for said landmark, his +father and his uncle, assisted by Younkins, and +followed by the two other boys, set the big breaking-plough +as near that line as possible. The four +yoke of oxen stood obediently in line. Mr. Howell +firmly held the plough-handles; Younkins drove +the two forward yoke of cattle, and Mr. Bryant the +second two; and the two younger boys stood ready +to hurrah as soon as the word was given to start. +It was an impressive moment to the youngsters.</p> +<p>“Gee up!” shouted Younkins, as mildly as if +the oxen were petted children. The long train +moved; the sharp nose of the plough cut into the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +virgin turf, turning over a broad sod, about five +inches thick; and then the plough swept onward +toward the point where Charlie stood waving his +red handkerchief in the air. Sandy seized a huge +piece of the freshly-turned sod, and swinging it over +his head with his strong young arms, he cried, +“Three cheers for the first sod of Bleeding Kansas! +’Rah! ’Rah! ’Rah!” The farming of the boy +settlers had begun.</p> +<p>Charlie, at his distant post on the other side of +the creek, saw the beginning of things, and sent +back an answering cheer to the two boys who were +dancing around the massive and slow-moving team +of cattle. The men smiled at the enthusiasm of +the youngsters, but in their hearts the two new +settlers felt that this was, after all, an event of +much significance. The green turf now being +turned over was disturbed by ploughshare for the +first time since the creation of the world. Scarcely +ever had this soil felt the pressure of the foot of a +white man. For ages unnumbered it had been +the feeding-ground of the buffalo and the deer. +The American savage had chased his game over +it, and possibly the sod had been wet with the +blood of contending tribes. Now all was to be +changed. As the black, loamy soil was turned for +the first time to the light of day, so for the first +time the long-neglected plain was being made +useful for the support of civilized man.</p> +<p>No wonder the boys cheered and cheered again.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_8' id='linki_8'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/set-106.jpg' alt='' title='' width='566' height='354' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span class='smcap'>Sandy Seized a Huge Piece of the Freshly-Turned Sod, and Waving It Over His Head Cried, “Three Cheers for the First Sod of Bleeding Kansas!”</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span></div> +<table style='margin: auto' summary=''><tr><td> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'> +“We go to plant her common schools,<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>On distant prairie swells,</span><br /> +And give the Sabbaths of the wild<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 0.78125em;'>The music of her bells.”</span></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>This is what was in Mr. Charles Bryant’s mind +as he wielded the ox-goad over the backs of the +animals that drew the great plough along the first +furrow cut on the farm of the emigrants. The +day was bright and fair; the sun shone down on +the flower-gemmed sod; no sound broke on the +still air but the slow treading of the oxen, the +chirrup of the drivers, the ripping of the sod as it +was turned in the furrow, and the gay shouts of +the light-hearted boys.</p> +<p>In a line of marvellous straightness, Younkins +guided the leading yoke of cattle directly toward +the creek on the other side of which Charlie yet +stood, a tall, but animated landmark. When, after +descending the gradual slope on which the land +lay, the trees that bordered the stream hid the lad +from view, it was decided that the furrow was +long enough to mark the westerly boundary line +of the forty acres which it was intended to break +up for the first corn-field on the farm. Then the +oxen were turned, with some difficulty, at right +angles with the line just drawn, and were driven +easterly until the southern boundary of the patch +was marked out. Turning, now, at right angles, +and tracing another line at the north, then again +to the west to the point of original departure, they +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +had accurately defined the outer boundaries of the +field on which so much in the future depended; +for here was to be planted the first crop of the +newcomers.</p> +<p>Younkins, having started the settlers in their +first farming, returned across the river to his own +plough, first having sat down with the Dixon +party to a substantial dinner. For the boys, after +the first few furrows were satisfactorily turned, +had gone back to the cabin and made ready the +noon meal. The ploughmen, when they came to +the cabin in answer to Sandy’s whoop from the +roof, had made a considerable beginning in the +field. They had gone around within the outer +edge of the plantation that was to be, leaving with +each circuit a broader band of black and shining +loam over which a flock of birds hopped and swept +with eager movements, snapping up the insects +and worms which, astonished at the great upheaval, +wriggled in the overturned turf.</p> +<p>“Looks sorter homelike here,” said Younkins, +with a pleased smile, as he drew his bench to the +well-spread board and glanced around at the walls +of the cabin, where the boys had already hung +their fishing-tackle, guns, Oscar’s violin, and a +few odds and ends that gave a picturesque look to +the long-deserted cabin.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Mr. Bryant, as he filled Younkins’s +tin cup with hot coffee, “our boys have all got the +knack of making themselves at home,––runs in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +the blood, I guess,––and if you come over here +again in a day or two, you will probably find us +with rugs on the floor and pictures on the walls. +Sandy is a master-hand at hunting; and he intends +to get a dozen buffalo-skins out of hand, so to +speak, right away.” And he looked fondly at his +freckled nephew as he spoke.</p> +<p>“A dibble and a corn-dropper will be more in +his way than the rifle, for some weeks to come,” +said Mr. Howell.</p> +<p>“What’s a dibble?” asked both of the youngsters +at once.</p> +<p>The elder man smiled and looked at Younkins +as he said, “A dibble, my lambs, is an instrument +for the planting of corn. With it in one hand you +punch a hole in the sod that has been turned over, +and then, with the other hand, you drop in three +or four grains of corn from the corn-dropper, cover +it with your heel, and there you are,––planted.”</p> +<p>“Why, I supposed we were going to plant corn +with a hoe; and we’ve got the hoes, too!” cried +Oscar.</p> +<p>“No, my son,” said his father; “if we were to +plant corn with a hoe, we shouldn’t get through +planting before next fall, I am afraid. After dinner, +we will make some dibbles for you boys, for +you must begin to drop corn to-morrow. What +ploughing we have done to-day, you can easily catch +up with when you begin. And the three of you +can all be on the furrow at once, if that seems +worth while.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span></p> +<p>The boys very soon understood fully what a dibble +was, and what a corn-dropper was, strange +though those implements were to them at first. +Before the end of planting-time, they fervently +wished they had never seen either of these instruments +of the corn-planter.</p> +<p>With the aid of a few rude tools, there was fashioned +a staff from the tough hickory that grew +near at hand, the lower part of the stick being +thick and pointed at the end. The staff was about +as high as would come up to a boy’s shoulder, so +that as he grasped it near the upper end, his arm +being bent, the lower end was on the ground.</p> +<p>The upper end was whittled so as to make a +convenient handle for the user. The lower end +was shaped carefully into something like the convex +sides of two spoons put together by their bowls, +and the lower edge of this part was shaved down to +a sharpness that was increased by slightly hardening +it in the fire. Just above the thickest part of +the dibble, a hole was bored at right angles through +the wood, and into this a peg was driven so that +several inches stuck out on both sides of the instrument. +This completed the dibble.</p> +<p>“So that is a dibble, is it?” said Oscar, when +the first one was shown him. “A dibble. Now +let’s see how you use it.”</p> +<p>Thereupon his Uncle Aleck stood up, grasped the +staff by the upper end, pressed his foot on the peg +at the lower end of the tool, and so forced the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +sharp point of the dibble downward into the earth. +Then, drawing it out, a convex slit was shown in +the elastic turf. Shaking an imaginary grain of +corn into the hole, he closed it with a stamp of his +heel, stepped on and repeated the motion a few +times, and then said, “That’s how they plant corn +on the sod in Kansas.”</p> +<p>“Uncle Aleck, what a lot you know!” said +Oscar, with undisguised admiration.</p> +<p>Meanwhile, Mr. Bryant, taking a pair of old +boots, cut off the legs just above the ankles, and, +fastening in the lower end of each a round bit of +wood, by means of small nails, quickly made a pair +of corn-droppers. Sandy’s belt, being passed through +the loop-strap of one of these, was fastened around +his waist. The dropper was to be filled with corn, +and, thus accoutred, he was ready for doing duty in +the newly ploughed field. When the lad expressed +his impatience for another day to come so that he +could begin corn-planting, the two elders of the +family laughed outright.</p> +<p>“Sandy, boy, you will be glad when to-morrow +night comes, so that you can rest from your labors. +You remember what I tell you!” said his father.</p> +<p>Nevertheless, when the two boys stepped bravely +out, next morning, in the wake of the breaking-team, +they were not in the least dismayed by the +prospect of working all day in the heavy furrows +of the plough. Bryant drove the leading yoke of +oxen, Charlie tried his ’prentice hand with the +second yoke, and Howell held the plough. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span></p> +<table style='margin: auto' summary=''><tr><td> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'> +“‘He that by the plough would thrive,<br /> +Must either hold the plough or drive,’”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>commented Oscar, filling his corn-dropper and +eyeing his father’s rather awkward handling of +the ox-goad. Uncle Aleck had usually driven the +cattle, but his hand was now required in the more +difficult business of holding the plough.</p> +<p>“‘Plough deep while sluggards sleep,’” replied +his father; “and if you don’t manage better with +dropping corn than I do with driving these oxen, +we shall have a short crop.”</p> +<p>“How many grains of corn to a hole, Uncle +Aleck? and how many bushels to the acre?” +asked Oscar.</p> +<p>“Not more than five grains nor less than three +is the rule, my boy. Now then, step out lively.”</p> +<p>And the big team swept down the slope, leaving +a broad and shining furrow behind it. The two +boys followed, one about twenty feet behind the +other, and when the hindermost had come up to +the work of him who was ahead, he skipped the +planted part and went on ahead of his comrade +twenty feet, thus alternating each with the other. +They were cheerily at work when, apparently +from under the feet of the forward yoke of oxen, +a bird somewhat bigger than a robin flew up with +shrieks of alarm and went fluttering off along the +ground, tumbling in the grass as if desperately +wounded and unable to fly. Sandy made a rush +for the bird, which barely eluded his clutches once +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +or twice, and drew him on and on in a fruitless +chase; for the timid creature soon recovered the +use of its wings, and soaring aloft, disappeared in +the depths of the sky.</p> +<p>“That’s the deceivingest bird I ever saw,” panted +Sandy, out of breath with running, and looking +shamefacedly at the corn that he had spilled in +his haste to catch his prey. “Why, it acted just +as if its right wing was broken, and then it flew off +as sound as a nut, for all I could see.”</p> +<p>When the ploughmen met them, on the next turn +of the team, Uncle Aleck said, “Did you catch the +lapwing, you silly boy? That fellow fooled you +nicely.”</p> +<p>“Lapwing?” said Sandy, puzzled. “What’s a +lapwing?” But the ploughmen were already out +of earshot.</p> +<p>“Oh, I know now,” said Oscar. “I’ve read of +the lapwing; it is a bird so devoted to its young, +or its nest, that when it fancies either in danger, +it assumes all the distress of a wounded thing, and, +fluttering along the ground, draws the sportsman +away from the locality.”</p> +<p>“Right out of a book, Oscar!” cried Sandy. +“And here’s its nest, as sure as I’m alive!” So +saying, the lad stooped, and, parting the grass with +his hands, disclosed a pretty nest sunk in the +ground, holding five finely speckled eggs. The +bird, so lately playing the cripple, cried and +circled around the heads of the boys as they peered +into the home of the lapwing. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span></p> +<p>“Well, here’s an actual settler that we must disturb, +Sandy,” said Oscar; “for the plough will +smash right through this nest on the very next turn. +Suppose we take it up and put it somewhere else, +out of harm’s way?”</p> +<p>“I’m willing,” assented Sandy; and the two +boys, carefully extracting the nest from its place, +carried it well over into the ploughed ground, +where under the lee of a thick turf it was left in +safety. But, as might have been expected, the +parent lapwing never went near that nest again. +The fright had been too great.</p> +<p>“What in the world are you two boys up to +now?” shouted Uncle Aleck from the other side +of the ploughing. “Do you call that dropping +corn? Hurry and catch up with the team; you +are ’way behind.”</p> +<p>“Great Scott!” cried Sandy; “I had clean forgotten +the corn-dropping. A nice pair of farmers +we are, Oscar!” and the lad, with might and +main, began to close rapidly the long gap between +him and the steadily moving ox-team.</p> +<p>“Leg-weary work, isn’t it, Sandy?” said his +father, when they stopped at noon to take the +luncheon they had brought out into the field with +them.</p> +<p>“Yes, and I’m terribly hungry,” returned the +boy, biting into a huge piece of cold corn-bread. +“I shouldn’t eat this if I were at home, and I +shouldn’t eat it now if I weren’t as hungry as a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span> +bear. Say, daddy, you cannot think how tired my +leg is with the punching of that dibble into the +sod; seems as if I couldn’t hold out till sundown; +but I suppose I shall. First, I punch a hole by +jamming down the dibble with my foot, and then +I kick the hole again with the same foot, after I +have dropped in the grains of corn. These two +motions are dreadfully tiresome.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said his uncle, with a short laugh, “and +while I was watching you and Oscar, this forenoon, +I couldn’t help thinking that you did not +yet know how to make your muscles bear an equal +strain. Suppose you try changing legs?”</p> +<p>“Changing legs?” exclaimed both boys at once. +“Why, how could we exchange legs?”</p> +<p>“I know what Uncle Aleck means. I saw you +always used the right leg to jam down the dibble +with, and then you kicked the hole full with the +right heel. No wonder your right legs are tired. +Change hands and legs, once in a while, and use +the dibble on the left side of you,” said Charlie, +whose driving had tired him quite as thoroughly.</p> +<p>“Isn’t Charlie too awfully knowing for anything, +Oscar?” said Sandy, with some sarcasm. +Nevertheless, the lad got up, tried the dibble with +his left hand, and saying, “Thanks, Charlie,” +dropped down upon the fragrant sod and was +speedily asleep, for a generous nooning was +allowed the industrious lads.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI_AN_INDIAN_TRAIL' id='CHAPTER_XI_AN_INDIAN_TRAIL'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>AN INDIAN TRAIL.</h3> +</div> +<p>The next day was Sunday, and, true to their +New England training, the settlers refrained from +labor on the day of rest. Mr. Bryant took his +pocket Bible and wandered off into the wild waste +of lands somewhere. The others lounged about +the cabin, indoors and out, a trifle sore and stiff +from the effects of work so much harder than that +to which they had been accustomed, and glad of +an opportunity to rest their limbs. The younger +of the boy settlers complained that they had worn +their legs out with punching holes in the sod while +planting corn. The soles of their feet were sore +with the pressure needed to jam the dibble through +the tough turf. In the afternoon, they all wandered +off through the sweet and silent wilderness +of rolling prairie into the woods in which they +proposed to lay off another claim for pre-emption. +At a short distance above their present home, cutting +sharply through the sod, and crossing the +Republican Fork a mile or so above their own ford, +was an old Indian trail, which the boys had before +noticed but could not understand. As Charlie +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +and Oscar, pressing on ahead of their elders, came +upon the old trail, they loitered about until the +rest of the party came up, and then they asked +what could have cut that narrow track in the turf, +so deep and so narrow.</p> +<p>“That’s an Injun trail,” said Younkins, who, +with an uncomfortably new suit of Sunday clothes +and a smooth-shaven face, had come over to visit +his new neighbors. “Didn’t you ever see an Injun +trail before?” he asked, noting the look of eager +curiosity on the faces of the boys. They assured +him that they never had, and he continued: “This +yere trail has been here for years and years, long +and long before any white folks came into the +country. Up north and east of yer, on the head-waters +of the Big Blue, the Cheyennes used to +live,”––Younkins pronounced it Shyans,––“and +as soon as the grass began to start in the spring, +so as to give feed to their ponies and to the buffalo, +they would come down this yere way for game. +They crossed the Fork just above yere-like, and +then they struck down to the head-waters of the +Smoky Hill and so off to the westwards. Big +game was plenty in those days, and now the Injuns +off to the north of yere come down in just the +same way––hunting for game.”</p> +<p>The boys got down on their knees and scanned +the trail with new interest. It was not more than +nine or ten inches across, and was so worn down +that it made a narrow trench, as it were, in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span> +deep sod, its lower surface being as smooth as a +rolled wagon-track. Over this well-worn track, +for ages past, the hurrying feet of wild tribes had +passed so many times that even the wiry grass-roots +had been killed down.</p> +<p>“Did war parties ever go out on this trail, do +you suppose?” asked Sandy, sitting up in the +grass.</p> +<p>“Sakes alive, yes!” replied Younkins. “Why, +the Cheyennes and the Comanches used to roam +over all these plains, in the old times, and they +were mostly at war.”</p> +<p>“Where are the Cheyennes and the Comanches +now, Mr. Younkins?” asked Uncle Aleck.</p> +<p>“I reckon the Comanches are off to the south-like +somewhere. It appears to me that I heard +they were down off the Texas border, somewheres; +the Cheyennes are to the westwards, somewhere +near Fort Laramie.”</p> +<p>“And what Indians are there who use this trail +now?” inquired Oscar, whose eyes were sparkling +with excitement as he studied the well-worn path +of the Indian tribes.</p> +<p>Younkins explained that the Pottawottomies +and the Pawnees, now located to the north, were +the only ones who used the trail. “Blanket Indians,” +he said they were, peaceable creatures +enough, but not good neighbors; he did not want +any Indians of any sort near him. When one of the +boys asked what blanket Indians were, Younkins +explained,–– +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span></p> +<p>“There’s three kinds of Injuns, none on ’em +good,––town Injuns, blanket Injuns, and wild +Injuns. You saw some of the town Injuns when +you came up through the Delaware reserve––great +lazy fellows, lyin’ round the house all day and lettin’ +the squaws do all the work. Then there’s +the blankets; they live out in the woods and on +the prairie, in teepees, or lodges, of skins and +canvas-like, moving round from place to place, +hunting over the plains in summer, and living off’n +the Gov’ment in winter. They are mostly at +peace with the whites, but they will steal whenever +they get a chance. The other kind, and the +worst, is the wild ones. They have nothing to do +with the Government, and they make war on the +whites whenever they feel like it. Just now, I +don’t know of any wild Injuns that are at war +with Uncle Sam; but the Arapahoes, Comanches, +and Cheyennes are all likely to break loose any +time. I give ’m all a plenty of elbow room.”</p> +<p>As the boys reluctantly ceased contemplating +the fascinating Indian trail, and moved on behind +the rest of the party, Charlie said: “I suppose we +must make allowance for Younkins’s prejudices. +He is like most of the border men, who believe +that all the good Indians are dead. If the Cheyennes +and the Comanches could only tell their +story in the books and newspapers, we might hear +the other side.”</p> +<p>The idea of a wild Indian’s writing a book or a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +letter to the newspapers tickled Sandy so much +that he laughed loud and long.</p> +<p>Some two miles above the point where the settlers’ +ford crossed the Republican Fork, the stream +swept around a bluffy promontory, and on a curve +just above this was the tract of timber land which +they now proposed to enter upon for their second +claim. The trees were oak, hickory, and beech, +with a slight undergrowth of young cottonwoods +and hazel. The land lay prettily, the stream at +this point flowing in a southerly direction, with +the timber claim on its northwesterly bank. The +sunny exposure of the grove, the open glades that +diversified its dense growth, and the babbling brook +that wound its way through it to the river, all combined +to make it very desirable for a timber claim. +At a short distance from the river the land rose +gradually to a high ridge, and on the top of this +grew a thick wood of spruce and fir.</p> +<p>“That’s what you want for your next cabin,” +said Younkins, pointing his finger in the direction +of the pines. “Best kind of stuff for building +there is in these parts.” Then he explained to the +boys the process of cutting down the trees, splitting +them up into shakes, or into lengths suitable +for cabin-building, and he gave them an entertaining +account of all the ways and means of finishing +up a log-cabin,––a process, by the way, which they +found then more entertaining in description than +they afterward found it in the reality. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span></p> +<p>That night when Sandy lay down to refreshing +sleep it was to dream of picturesque Indian fights, +witnessed at a safe distance from afar. Accordingly, +he was not very much surprised next morning, +while he was helping Charlie to get ready the +breakfast, when Oscar ran in breathless, with the +one word, “Indians!”</p> +<p>“Come out on the hill back of the cabin,” panted +Oscar. “There’s a lot of ’em coming out on the +trail we saw yesterday, all in Indian file. Hurry +up!” and away he darted, Sandy hastening with +him to see the wonderful sight.</p> +<p>Sure enough, there they were, twenty-five or +thirty Indians,––blanket Indians, as Younkins +would have said,––strung along in the narrow +trail, all in Indian file. It amazed the lads to see +how the little Indian ponies managed to keep their +feet in the narrow path. But they seemed to trot +leisurely along with one foot before the other, just +as the Indians did. Behind the mounted men +were men and boys on foot, nearly as many as had +passed on horseback. These kept up with the +others, silently but swiftly maintaining the same +pace that the mounted fellows did. It was a picturesque +and novel sight to the young settlers. +The Indians were dressed in the true frontier +style, with hunting-shirt and leggings of dressed +deerskin, a blanket slung loosely over the shoulder, +all bareheaded, and with coarse black hair +flowing in the morning breeze, except for the loose +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +knot in which it was twisted behind. Some of +them carried their guns slung on their backs; and +others of them had the weapons in their hands, +ready for firing on the instant.</p> +<p>“There they go, over the divide,” said Oscar, as +the little cavalcade reached the last roll of the +prairie, and began to disappear on the other side. +Not one of the party deigned even to look in the +direction of the wondering boys; and if they saw +them, as they probably did, they made no sign.</p> +<p>“There they go, hunting buffalo, I suppose,” +said Sandy, with a sigh, as the last Indian of the +file disappeared down the horizon. “Dear me! +don’t I wish I was going out after buffalo, instead +of having to dibble corn into the sod all day! +Waugh! Don’t I hate it!” And the boy turned +disconsolately back to the cabin. But he rallied +with his natural good-humor when he had his tale +to tell at the breakfast-table. He eagerly told +how they had seen the Indians passing over the +old trail, and had gazed on the redskins as they +went “on the warpath.”</p> +<p>“Warpath, indeed!” laughed Charlie. “Pot-hunters, +that’s what they are. All the warfare +they are up to is waged on the poor innocent +buffalo that Younkins says they are killing off and +making scarcer every year.”</p> +<p>“If nobody but Indians killed buffalo,” said +Mr. Bryant, “there would be no danger of their +ever being all killed off. But, in course of time, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +I suppose this country will all be settled up, and +then there will be railroads, and after that the +buffalo will have to go. Just now, any white man +that can’t saddle his horse and go out and kill a +buffalo before breakfast thinks they are getting +scarce. But I have heard some of the soldiers say +that away up north of here, a little later in the +season, the settlers cannot keep their crops, the +buffalo roam all over everything so.”</p> +<p>“For my part,” put in Charlie, “I am not in +the least afraid that the buffalo will be so plenty +around these parts that they will hurt our crops; +and I’d just like to see a herd come within shooting +distance.” And here he raised his arms, and +took aim along an imaginary rifle.</p> +<p>Later in the forenoon, when the two younger +boys had reached the end of the two rows in which +they had been planting, Sandy straightened himself +up with an effort, and said, “This is leg-weary +work, isn’t it, Oscar? I hate work, anyhow,” he +added, discontentedly, leaning on the top of his +dibble, and looking off over the wide and green +prairie that stretched toward the setting sun. “I +wish I was an Indian.”</p> +<p>Oscar burst into a laugh, and said, “Wish you +were an Indian!––so you could go hunting when +you like, and not have any work to do? Why, +Sandy, I didn’t think that of you.”</p> +<p>Sandy colored faintly, and said, “Well, I do +hate work, honestly; and it is only because I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span> +know that I ought, and that father expects me to +do my share, that I do it, and never grumble about +it. Say, I never do grumble, do I, Oscar?” he +asked earnestly.</p> +<p>“Only once in a while, when you can’t help it, +Sandy. I don’t like work any better than you do; +but it’s no use talking about it, we’ve got to do it.”</p> +<p>“I always feel so in the spring,” said Sandy, +very gravely and with a little sigh, as he went +pegging away down another furrow.</p> +<p>Forty acres of land was all that the settlers +intended to plant with corn, for the first year. +Forty acres does not seem a very large tract of +land to speak of, but when one sees the area +marked out with a black furrow, and realizes that +every foot of it must be covered with the corn-planter, +it looks formidable. The boys thought it +was a very big piece of land when they regarded +it in that way. But the days soon flew by; and +even while the young workers were stumping over +the field, they consoled themselves with visions of +gigantic ripe watermelons and mammoth pumpkins +and squashes that would regale their eyes before +long. For, following the example of most Kansas +farmers, they had stuck into many of the furrows +with the corn the seeds of these easily grown +vines.</p> +<p>“Keep the melons a good way from the pumpkins, +and the squashes a good way from both, if you +don’t want a bad mixture,” said Uncle Aleck to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span> +the boy settlers. Then he explained that if the +pollen of the squash-blossoms should happen to fall +on the melon-blossoms, the fruit would be neither +good melon nor yet good squash, but a poor mixture +of both. This piece of practical farming was +not lost on Charlie; and when he undertook the +planting of the garden spot which they found near +the cabin, he took pains to separate the cucumber-beds +as far as possible from the hills in which he +planted his cantaloupe seeds. The boys were learning +while they worked, even if they did grumble +occasionally over their tasks.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII_HOUSEBUILDING' id='CHAPTER_XII_HOUSEBUILDING'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2> +<h3>HOUSE-BUILDING.</h3> +</div> +<p>There was a change in the programme of daily +labor, when the corn was in the ground. At odd +times the settlers had gone over to the wood-lot +and had laid out their plans for the future home +on that claim. There was more variety to be expected +in house-building than in planting, and the +boys had looked forward with impatience to the +beginning of that part of their enterprise. Logs +for the house were cut from the pines and firs of +the hill beyond the river bluff. From these, too, +were to be riven, or split, the “shakes” for the +roof-covering and for the odd jobs of work to be +done about the premises.</p> +<p>Now, for the first time, the boys learned the use +of some of the strange tools that they had brought +with them. They had wondered over the frow, an +iron instrument about fourteen inches long, for +splitting logs. At right angles with the blade, and +fixed in an eye at one end, was a handle of hard-wood. +A section of wood was stood up endwise +on a firm foundation of some sort, and the thin end +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span> +of the frow was hammered down into the grain of +the wood, making a lengthwise split.</p> +<p>In the same way, the section of wood so riven +was split again and again until each split was thin +enough. The final result was called a “shake.” +Shakes were used for shingles, and even––when +nailed on frames––for doors. Sawed lumber was +very dear; and, except the sashes in the windows, +every bit of the log-cabin must be got out of the +primitive forest.</p> +<p>The boys were proud of the ample supply which +their elders had brought with them; for even the +knowing Younkins, scrutinizing the tools for woodcraft +with a critical eye, remarked, “That’s a good +outfit, for a party of green settlers.” Six stout +wedges of chilled iron, and a heavy maul to hammer +them with, were to be used for the splitting up +of the big trees into smaller sections. Wooden +wedges met the wants of many people in those +primitive parts, at times, and the man who had a +good set of iron wedges and a powerful maul was +regarded with envy.</p> +<p>“What are these clumsy rings for?” Oscar had +asked when he saw the maul-rings taken out of the +wagon on their arrival and unloading.</p> +<p>His uncle smiled, and said, “You will find out +what these are for, my lad, when you undertake to +swing the maul. Did you never hear of splitting +rails? Well, these are to split rails and such +things from the log. We chop off a length of a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +tree, about eight inches thick, taking the toughest +and densest wood we can find. Trim off the bark +from a bit of the trunk, which must be twelve or +fourteen inches long; drive your rings on each end +of the block to keep it from splitting; fit a handle +to one end, or into one side of the block; and there +you have your maul.”</p> +<p>“Why, that’s only a beetle, after all,” cried +Sandy, who, sitting on a stump near by, had been +a deeply interested listener to his father’s description +of the maul.</p> +<p>“Certainly, my son; a maul is what people in +the Eastern States would call a beetle; but you +ask Younkins, some day, if he has a beetle over at +his place. He, I am sure, would never use the +name beetle.”</p> +<p>Log-cabin building was great fun to the boys, +although they did not find it easy work. There +was a certain novelty about the raising of the +structure that was to be a home, and an interest +in learning the use of rude tools that lasted until +the cabin was finished. The maul and the wedges, +the frow and the little maul intended for it, and +all the other means and appliances of the building, +were all new and strange to these bright lads.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_9' id='linki_9'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/set-128.jpg' alt='' title='' width='407' height='537' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span class='smcap'>Making “Shakes” with a “Frow.”</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span></div> +<p>First, the size of the cabin, twelve feet wide +and twenty feet long, was marked out on the site +on which it was to rise, and four logs were laid +to define the foundation. These were the sills of +the new house. At each end of every log two +notches were cut, one on the under side and one +on the upper, to fit into similar notches cut in the +log below, and in that which was to be placed +on top. So each corner was formed by these interlacing +and overlapping ends. The logs were +piled up, one above another, just as children build +“cob-houses,” from odds and ends of playthings. +Cabin-builders do not say that a cabin is a certain +number of feet high; they usually say that it is +ten logs high, or twelve logs high, as the case may +be. When the structure is as high as the eaves +are intended to be, the top logs are bound together, +from side to side, with smaller logs fitted upon the +upper logs of each side and laid across as if they +were to be the supports of a floor for another story. +Then the gable-ends are built up of logs, shorter +and shorter as the peak of the gable is approached, +and kept in place by other small logs laid across, +endwise of the cabin, and locked into the end of +each log in the gable until all are in place. On +these transverse logs, or rafters, the roof is laid. +Holes are cut or sawed through the logs for the +door and windows, and the house begins to look +habitable.</p> +<p>The settlers on the Republican Fork cut the +holes for doors and windows before they put on +the roof, and when the layer of split shakes that +made the roof was in place, and the boys bounded +inside to see how things looked, they were greatly +amused to notice how light it was. The spaces +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +between the logs were almost wide enough to crawl +through, Oscar said. But they had studied log-cabin +building enough to know that these wide +cracks were to be “chinked” with thin strips of +wood, the refuse of shakes, driven in tightly, and +then daubed over with clay, a fine bed of which +was fortunately near at hand. The provident +Younkins had laid away in his own cabin the +sashes and glass for two small windows; and these +he had agreed to sell to the newcomers. Partly +hewn logs for floor-joists were placed upon the +ground inside the cabin, previously levelled off +for the purpose. On these were laid thick slabs +of oak and hickory, riven out of logs drawn from +the grove near by. These slabs of hard-wood were +“puncheons,” and fortunate as was the man who +could have a floor of sawed lumber to his cabin, +he who was obliged to use puncheons was better +off than those with whom timber was so scarce +that the natural surface on the ground was their +only floor.</p> +<p>“My! how it rattles!” was Sandy’s remark when +he had first taken a few steps on the new puncheon +floor of their cabin. “It sounds like a tread-mill +going its rounds. Can’t you nail these down, +daddy?”</p> +<p>His father explained that the unseasoned lumber +of the puncheons would so shrink in the drying +that no fastening could hold them. They must +lie loosely on the floor-joists until they were thoroughly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +seasoned; then they might be fastened +down with wooden pins driven through holes bored +for that purpose; nails and spikes cost too much +to be wasted on a puncheon floor. In fact, very +little hardware was wasted on any part of that +cabin. Even the door was made by fastening with +wooden pegs a number of short pieces of shakes to +a frame fitted to the doorway cut in the side of +the cabin. The hinges were strong bits of leather, +the soles of the boots whose legs had been used +for corn-droppers. The clumsy wooden latch was +hung inside to a wooden pin driven into one of the +crosspieces of the door, and it played in a loop of +deerskin at the other end. A string of deerskin +fastened to the end of the latch-bar nearest the +jamb of the doorway was passed outside through +a hole cut in the door, serving to lift the latch +from without when a visitor would enter.</p> +<p>“Our latch-string hangs out!” exclaimed Charlie, +triumphantly, when this piece of work was +done. “I must say I never knew before what it +meant to have the ‘latch-string hanging out’ for +all comers. See, Oscar, when we shut up the +house for the night, all we have to do is to pull in +the latch-string, and the door is barred.”</p> +<p>“Likewise, when you have dropped your jackknife +through a crack in the floor into the cellar +beneath, all you have to do is to turn over a puncheon +or two and get down and find it,” said Sandy, +coolly, as he took up two slabs and hunted for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +his knife. The boys soon found that although +their home was rude and not very elegant as to +its furniture, it had many conveniences that more +elaborate and handsomer houses did not have. +There were no floors to wash, hardly to sweep. +As their surroundings were simple, their wants +were few. It was a free and easy life that they +were gradually drifting into, here in the wilderness.</p> +<p>Charlie declared that the cabin ought to have +a name. As yet, the land on which they had +settled had no name except that of the river by +which it lay. The boys thought it would give +some sort of distinction to their home if they +gave it a title. “Liberty Hall,” they thought +would be a good name to put on the roof of their +log-cabin. Something out of Cooper’s novels, Oscar +proposed, would be the best for the locality.</p> +<p>“‘Hog-and-hominy,’ how would that suit?” +asked Sandy, with a laugh. “Unless we get some +buffalo or antelope meat pretty soon, it will be hog +and hominy to the end of the chapter.”</p> +<p>“Why not call it the John G. Whittier cabin?” +said Uncle Aleck, looking up from his work of +shaping an ox-yoke.</p> +<p>“The very thing, daddy!” shouted Sandy, clapping +his hands. “Only don’t you think that’s +a very long name to say in a hurry? Whittier +would be shorter, you know. But, then,” he +added, doubtfully, “it isn’t everybody that would +know which Whittier was meant by that, would +they?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span></p> +<p>“Sandy seems to think that the entire population +of Kansas will be coming here, some day, +to read that name, if we ever have it. We have +been here two months now, and no living soul but +ourselves and Younkins has ever been in these +diggings; not one. Oh, I say, let’s put up just +nothing but ‘Whittier’ over the door there. +We’ll know what that means, and if anybody +comes in the course of time, I’ll warrant he’ll +soon find out which Whittier it means.” This +was Oscar’s view of the case.</p> +<p>“Good for you, Oscar!” said his uncle. “Whittier +let it be.”</p> +<p>Before sundown, that day, a straight-grained +shake of pine, free from knot or blemish, had been +well smoothed down with the draw-shave, and on +its fair surface, writ large, was the beloved name +of the New England poet, thus: WHITTIER.</p> +<p>This was fastened securely over the entrance of +the new log-cabin, and the Boy Settlers, satisfied +with their work, stood off at a little distance and +gave it three cheers. The new home was named.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIII_LOST' id='CHAPTER_XIII_LOST'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> +<h3>LOST!</h3> +</div> +<p>“We must have some board-nails and some +lead,” remarked Uncle Aleck, one fine morning, +as the party were putting the finishing touches to +the Whittier cabin. “Who will go down to the +post and get them?”</p> +<p>“I”, “I”, “I”, shouted all three of the boys at +once.</p> +<p>“Oh, you will all go, will you?” said he, with +a smile. “Well, you can’t all go, for we can borrow +only one horse, and it’s ten miles down there +and ten miles back; and you will none of you care +to walk, I am very sure.”</p> +<p>The boys looked at each other and laughed. +Who should be the lucky one to take that delightful +horseback ride down to the post, as Fort Riley +was called, and get a glimpse of civilization?</p> +<p>“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” said Sandy, after +some good-natured discussion. “Let’s draw cuts +to see who shall go. Here they are. You draw +first, Charlie, you being the eldest man. Now, +then, Oscar. Why, hooray! it’s my cut! I’ve +drawn the longest, and so I am to go. Oh, it was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span> +a fair and square deal, daddy,” he added, seeing +his father look sharply at him.</p> +<p>The matter was settled, and next morning, +bright and early, Sandy was fitted out with his +commissions and the money to buy them with. +Younkins had agreed to let him have his horse, +saddle, and bridle. Work on the farm was now +practically over until time for harvesting was +come. So the other two boys accompanied Sandy +over to the Younkins side of the river and saw +him safely off down the river road leading to the +post. A meal-sack in which to bring back his +few purchases was snugly rolled up and tied to +the crupper of his saddle, and feeling in his +pocket for the hundredth time to make sure of +the ten-dollar gold piece therein bestowed, Sandy +trotted gayly down the road. The two other +boys gazed enviously after him, and then went +home, wondering, as they strolled along, how long +Sandy would be away. He would be back by +dark at the latest, for the days were now at about +their longest, and the long summer day was just +begun.</p> +<p>At Younkins’s cabin they met Hiram Battles, a +neighbor who lived beyond the divide to the eastward, +and who had just ridden over in search of +some of his cattle that had strayed away, during +the night before. Mr. Battles said he was “powerful +worrited.” Indians had been seen prowling +around on his side of the divide: but he had seen +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +no signs of a camp, and he had traced the tracks +of his cattle, three head in all, over this way as far +as Lone Tree Creek, a small stream just this side +of the divide; but there he had unaccountably lost +all trace of them.</p> +<p>“Well, as for the Indians,” said Charlie, modestly, +“we have seen them passing out on the trail. +But they were going hunting, and they kept right +on to the southward and westward; and we have +not seen them go back since.”</p> +<p>“The lad’s right,” said Younkins, slowly, “but +still I don’t like the stories I hear down the road a +piece. They do say that the Shians have riz.”</p> +<p>“The Cheyennes have risen!” exclaimed Charlie. +“And we have let Sandy go down to the post +alone!”</p> +<p>Both of the men laughed––a little unpleasantly, +it seemed to the boys, although Younkins was the +soul of amiability and mildness. But Charlie +thought it was unkind in them to laugh at his +very natural apprehensions; and he said as much, +as he and Oscar, with their clothes on their heads, +waded the Republican Fork on the way home.</p> +<p>“Well, Charlie,” was Oscar’s comforting remark, +as they scrambled up the opposite bank, “I guess +the reason why they laughed at us was that if the +Cheyennes have gone on the warpath, the danger +is out in the west; whereas, Sandy has gone eastward +to-day, and that is right in the way of safety, +isn’t it? He’s gone to the post; and you know +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +that the people down at Soldier Creek told us that +this was a good place to settle, because the post +would be our protection in case of an Indian +rising.”</p> +<p>Meanwhile, Sandy was blissfully and peacefully +jogging along in the direction of the military post. +Only one house stood between Younkins’s and the +fort; and that was Mullett’s. They all had occasion +to think pleasantly of Mullett’s; for whenever +an opportunity came for the mail to be forwarded +from the fort up to Mullett’s, it was sent there; +then Sparkins, who was the next neighbor above, +but who lived off the road a bit, would go down +to Mullett’s and bring the mail up to his cabin; +when he did this, he left a red flannel flag flying +on the roof of his house, and Younkins, if passing +along the trail, saw the signal and went out of his +way a little to take the mail up to his cabin. +Somehow, word was sent across the river to the +Whittier boys, as the good Younkins soon learned +to call the Boy Settlers, and they went gladly +over to Younkins’s and got the precious letters +and papers from home. That was the primitive +way in which the mail for the settlers on the +Republican Fork went up the road from Fort +Riley, in those days; and all letters and papers +designed for the settlers along there were addressed +simply to Fort Riley, which was their +nearest post-office.</p> +<p>So Sandy, when he reached Mullett’s, was not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +disappointed to be told that there were no letters +for anybody up the river. There had been nobody +down to the post very lately. Sandy knew that, +and he was confident that he would have the +pleasure of bringing up a good-sized budget when +he returned. So he whipped up his somewhat +lazy steed and cantered down toward the fort.</p> +<p>Soon after leaving Mullett’s he met a drove of +sheep. The drivers were two men and a boy of +his own age, mounted on horseback and carrying +their provisions, apparently, strapped behind them. +When he asked them where they were going, they +surlily replied that they were going to California. +That would take them right up the road that he +had come down, Sandy thought to himself. And +he wondered if the boys at home would see the +interesting sight of five hundred sheep going up +the Republican Fork, bound for California.</p> +<p>He reached the fort before noon; and, with a +heart beating high with pleasure, he rode into the +grounds and made his way to the well-remembered +sutler’s store where he had bought the candy, +months before. He had a few pennies of his own, +and he mentally resolved to spend these for raisins. +Sandy had a “sweet tooth”, but, except for sugar +and molasses, he had eaten nothing sweet since +they were last at Fort Riley on their way westward.</p> +<p>It was with a feeling of considerable importance +that Sandy surveyed the interior of the sutler’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +store. The proprietor looked curiously at him, as +if wondering why so small a boy should turn up +alone in that wilderness; and when the lad asked +for letters for the families up the river, Mullett’s, +Sparkins’s, Battles’s, Younkins’s, and his own +people, the sutler said: “Be you one of them +Abolitioners that have named your place after +that man Whittier, the Abolition poet? I’ve +hearn tell of you, and I’ve hearn tell of him. +And he ain’t no good. Do you hear me?” Sandy +replied that he heard him, and to himself he wondered +greatly how anybody, away down here, ten +miles from the new home, could possibly have +heard about the name they had given to their +cabin.</p> +<p>Several soldiers who had been lounging around +the place now went out at the door. The sutler, +looking cautiously about as if to be sure that +nobody heard him, said: “Never you mind what +I said just now, sonny. Right you are, and that +man Whittier writes the right sort of stuff. Bet +yer life! I’m no Abolitioner; but I’m a free-State +man, I am, every time.”</p> +<p>“Then what made you talk like that, just +now?” asked Sandy, his honest, freckled face +glowing with righteous indignation. “If you like +Mr. John G. Whittier’s poetry, why did you say +he wasn’t any good?”</p> +<p>“Policy, policy, my little man. This yere’s a +pro-slavery guv’ment, and this yere is a pro-slavery +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +post. I couldn’t keep this place one single +day if they thought I was a free-State man. See? +But I tell you right here, and don’t you fergit it, +this yere country is going to be free State. Kansas +is no good for slavery; and slavery can’t get +in here. Stick a pin there, and keep your eye +on it.”</p> +<p>With some wonder and much disgust at the +man’s cowardice, Sandy packed his precious letters +in the bosom of his shirt. Into one end of his +meal-sack he put a pound of soda-biscuit for which +his Uncle Charlie had longed, a half-pound of +ground ginger with which Charlie desired to make +some “molasses gingerbread, like mother’s,” and +a half-pound of smoking-tobacco for his dear +father. It seemed a long way off to his father +now, Sandy thought, as he tied up that end of the +bag. Then into the other end, having tied the +bag firmly around, about a foot and a half from +the mouth, he put the package of nails and a roll +of sheet lead. It had been agreed that if they +were to go buffalo-hunting, they must have rifle-balls +and bullets for their shot-guns.</p> +<p>The sutler, who had become very friendly, +looked on with an amused smile, and said, “’Pears +to me, sonny, you got all the weight at one end, +haven’t you?”</p> +<p>Sandy did not like to be called “sonny,” but he +good-naturedly agreed that he had made a mistake; +so he began all over again and shifted his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +cargo so that the nails and a box of yeast-powder +occupied one end of the meal-sack, and the other +articles balanced the other. The load was then +tied closely to the crupper of the saddle and the +boy was ready to start on his homeward trip. His +eyes roved longingly over the stock of goodies +which the sutler kept for the children, young and +old, of the garrison, and he asked, “How much +for raisins?”</p> +<p>“Two bits a pound for box, and fifteen cents for +cask,” replied the man, sententiously.</p> +<p>“Give me half a pound of cask raisins,” said +the boy, with some hesitation. He had only a few +cents to spare for his own purchases.</p> +<p>The sutler weighed out a half-pound of box +raisins, did them up, and handed them across the +counter, saying, “No pay; them’s for Whittier.”</p> +<p>Sandy took the package, shoved it into his +shirt-bosom, and, wondering if his “Thank you” +were sufficient payment for the gift, mounted his +steed, rode slowly up the road to a spring that he +had noticed bubbling out of the side of a ravine, +and with a thankful heart, turning out the horse +to graze, sat down to eat his frugal lunch, now +graced with the dry but to him delicious raisins. +So the sutler at Fort Riley was a free-State man! +Wasn’t that funny!</p> +<p>It was a beautifully bright afternoon, and +Sandy, gathering his belongings together, started +up the river road on a brisk canter. The old +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +horse was a hard trotter, and when he slackened +down from a canter, poor Sandy shook in every +muscle, and his teeth chattered as if he had a fit +of ague. But whenever the lad contrived to +urge his steed into an easier gait he got on +famously. The scenery along the Republican Fork +is (or was) very agreeable to the eye. Long +slopes of vivid green stretched off in every direction, +their rolling sides dropping into deep ravines +through which creeks, bordered with dense growths +of alder, birch, and young cottonwood, meandered. +The sky was blue and cloudless, and, as the boy +sped along the breezy uplands, the soft and balmy +air fanning his face, he sung and whistled to express +the fervor of his buoyant spirits. He was a +hearty and a happy boy.</p> +<p>Suddenly he came to a fork in the road which +he had not noticed when he came down that way +in the morning. For a moment he was puzzled +by the sight. Both were broad and smooth tracks +over the grassy prairie, and both rose and fell over +the rolling ground; only, one led to the left and +somewhat southerly, and the other to the right. +“Pshaw!” muttered Sandy, and he paused and +rubbed his head for an idea. “That left-hand +road must strike off to some ford lower down on +the Fork than I have ever been. But I never +heard of any ford below ours.”</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_10' id='linki_10'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/set-142.jpg' alt='' title='' width='411' height='483' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span class='smcap'>Filling in the Chinks in the Walls of the Log-cabin.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span></div> +<p>With that, his keen eyes noticed that the right-hand +road was cut and marked with the many +hoof-tracks of a flock of sheep. He argued to +himself that the sheep-drivers had told him that +they were going to California. The California +road led up the bank of the Republican Fork close +to the trail that led him from Younkins’s to the +ford across the river. The way was plain; so, +striking his spur into the old sorrel’s side, he +dashed on up the right-hand road, singing gayly as +he went.</p> +<p>Absorbed in the mental calculation as to the +number of days that it would take that flock of +sheep to reach California, the boy rode on, hardly +noticing the landmarks by the way, or taking in +anything but the general beauty of the broad and +smiling landscape over which the yellow light of +the afternoon sun, sinking in the west, poured a +flood of splendor. Slackening his speed as he +passed a low and sunken little round valley filled +with brush and alders, he heard a queer sound +like the playful squealing of some wild animal. +Slipping off his saddle and leading his horse by +the bridle over the thick turf, Sandy cautiously +approached the edge of the valley, the margin of +which was steep and well sheltered by a growth +of cottonwoods. After peering about for some +time, the lad caught a glimpse of a beautiful sight. +A young doe and her fawn were playing together +in the open meadow below, absolutely unconscious +of the nearness of any living thing besides themselves. +The mother-deer was browsing, now and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span> +again, and at times the fawn, playful as a young +kitten, would kick its heels, or butt its head +against its mother’s side, and both would squeal +in a comical way.</p> +<p>Sandy had never seen deer in a state of living +wildness before, and his heart thumped heavily in +his breast as he gazed on the wonderful sight. He +half groaned to himself that he was a great fool +to have come away from home without a gun. +What an easy shot it was! How nicely he could +knock over the mother, if only he had a shot-gun! +She was within such short range. Then he felt a +sinking of the heart, as he imagined the horror of +death that would have overtaken the innocent and +harmless creatures, sporting there so thoughtless +of man’s hunting instincts and cruelty. Would +he kill them, if he had the weapon to kill with? +He could not make up his mind that he would. +So he crouched silently in the underbrush, and +watched the pretty sight as if it were a little animal +drama enacted here in the wilderness, mother and +child having a romp in their wildwood home.</p> +<p>“Well, I’ll give them a good scare, anyhow,” +muttered the boy, his sportive instincts getting +the better of his tender-heartedness at last. He +dashed up noisily from the underbrush, swung his +arms, and shouted, “Boo!” Instantly deer and +fawn, with two or three tremendous bounds, were +out of the little valley and far away on the prairie, +skimming over the rolls of green, and before the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +boy could catch his breath, they had disappeared +into one of the many dells and ravines that interlaced +the landscape.</p> +<p>But another animal was scared by the boy’s +shout. In his excitement he had slipped the bridle-rein +from his arm, and the old sorrel, terrified +by his halloo, set off on a brisk trot down the road. +In vain Sandy called to him to stop. Free from +guidance, the horse trotted along, and when, after +a long chase, Sandy caught up with his steed, a +considerable piece of road had been covered the +wrong way, for the horse had gone back over +the line of march. When Sandy was once more +mounted, and had mopped his perspiring forehead, +he cast his eye along the road, and, to his dismay, +discovered that the sheep-tracks had disappeared. +What had become of the sheep? How could they +have left the trail without his sooner noticing it? +He certainly had not passed another fork of the +road since coming into this at the fork below.</p> +<p>“This is more of my heedlessness, mother would +say,” muttered Sandy to himself. “What a big +fool I must have been to miss seeing where the +sheep left the trail! I shall never make a good +plainsman if I don’t keep my eye skinned better +than this. Jingo! it’s getting toward sundown!” +Sure enough, the sun was near the horizon, and +Sandy could see none of the familiar signs of the +country round about the Fork.</p> +<p>But he pushed on. It was too late now to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span> +return to the fork of the road and explore the other +branch. He was in for it. He remembered, +too, that two of their most distant neighbors, Mr. +Fuller and his wife, lived somewhere back of +Battles’s place, and it was barely possible that it +was on the creek, whose woody and crooked line +he could now see far to the westward, that their +log-cabin was situated. He had seen Mr. Fuller +over at the Fork once or twice, and he remembered +him as a gentle-mannered and kindly man. Surely +he must live on this creek! So he pushed on with +new courage, for his heart had begun to sink when +he finally realized that he was far off his road.</p> +<p>The sun was down when he reached the creek. +No sign of human habitation was in sight. In +those days cabins and settlements were very, very +few and far between, and a traveller once off his +trail might push on for hundreds of miles without +finding any trace of human life.</p> +<p>In the gathering dusk the heavy-hearted boy +rode along the banks of the creek, anxiously looking +out for some sign of settlers. It was as lonely +and solitary as if no man had ever seen its savageness +before. Now and then a night-bird called +from a thicket, as if asking what interloper came +into these solitudes; or a scared jack-rabbit scampered +away from his feeding-ground, as the steps of +the horse tore through the underbrush. Even the +old sorrel seemed to gaze reproachfully at the lad, +who had dismounted, and now led the animal +through the wild and tangled undergrowths.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_11' id='linki_11'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/set-146.jpg' alt='' title='' width='392' height='505' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span class='smcap'>Lost!</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span></div> +<p>When he had gone up and down the creek several +times, hunting for some trace of a settlement, +and finding none, he reflected that Fuller’s house +was on the side of the stream, to the west. It was +a very crooked stream, and he was not sure, in +the darkness, which was west and which was east. +But he boldly plunged into the creek, mounting +his horse, and urging the unwilling beast across. +Once over, he explored that side of the stream, +hither and yon, in vain. Again he crossed, and +so many times did he cross and recross that he +finally had no idea where he was. Then the conviction +came fully into his mind: He was lost.</p> +<p>The disconsolate boy sat down on a fallen tree +and meditated. It was useless to go farther. He +was tired in every limb and very, very hungry. +He bethought himself of the soda-biscuits in his +sack. He need not starve, at any rate. Dobbin +was grazing contentedly while the lad meditated, +so slipping off the saddle and the package attached +to it, Sandy prepared to satisfy his hunger with +what little provisions he had at hand. How +queerly the biscuits tasted! Jolting up and down +on the horse’s back, they were well broken up. +But what was this so hot in the mouth? Ginger? +Sure enough, it was ginger. The pounding that +had crushed the biscuits had broken open the +package of ginger, and that spicy stuff was plentifully +sprinkled all over the contents of the sack.</p> +<p>“Gingerbread,” muttered Sandy, grimly, as he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +blew out of his mouth some of the powdery spice. +“Faugh! Tobacco!” he cried next. His father’s +package of smoking-tobacco had shared the fate +of the ginger. Sandy’s supper was spoiled; and +resigning himself to spending the night hungry in +the wilderness, he tethered the horse to a tree, put +the saddle-blanket on the ground, arranged the +saddle for a pillow, and, having cut a few leafy +boughs from the alders, stuck them into the turf +so as to form a shelter around his head, and lay +down to pleasant dreams.</p> +<p>“And this is Saturday night, too,” thought the +lost boy. “They are having beans baked in the +ground-oven at home in the cabin. They are wondering +where I am. What would mother say if +she knew I was lost out here on Flyaway Creek?” +And the boy’s heart swelled a little, and a few +drops of water stood in his eyes, for he had never +been lost before in his life. He looked up at the +leaden sky, now overcast, and wondered if God +saw this lost boy. A few drops fell on his cheek. +Tears? No; worse than that; it was rain.</p> +<p>“Well, this is a little too much,” said Sandy, +stoutly. “Here goes for one more trial.” So saying, +he saddled and mounted his patient steed, +and, at a venture, took a new direction around a +bend in the creek. As he rounded the bend, the +bark of a dog suddenly rung from a mass of gloom +and darkness. How sweet the sound! Regardless +of the animal’s angry challenge, he pressed on. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +That mass of blackness was a log-barn, and near +by was a corral with cows therein. Then a light +shone from the log-cabin, and a man’s voice was +heard calling the dog.</p> +<p>Fuller’s!</p> +<p>The good man of the house received the lad +with open arms, and cared for his horse; inside +the cabin, Mrs. Fuller, who had heard the conversation +without, had made ready a great pan of milk +and a loaf of bread, having risen from her bed to +care for the young wanderer. Never did bread +and milk taste so deliciously to weary traveller as +this! Full-fed, Sandy looked at the clock on the +wall, and marked with wondering eye that it was +past midnight. He had recounted his trials as he +ate, and the sympathizing couple had assured him +that he had been deceived by the sheep-driver. It +was very unlikely that he was driving his flock to +California. And it was probable that, coming to +some place affording food and water, the sheep had +left the main road and had camped down in one of +the ravines out of sight.</p> +<p>As Sandy composed his weary limbs in a blanket-lined +bunk opposite that occupied by Fuller and +his wife, he was conscious that he gave a long, +long sigh as if in his sleep. And, as he drifted off +into slumber-land, he heard the good woman say, +“Well, he’s out of his troubles, poor boy!” Sandy +chuckled to himself and slept.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIV_MORE_HOUSEBUILDING' id='CHAPTER_XIV_MORE_HOUSEBUILDING'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> +<h3>MORE HOUSE-BUILDING.</h3> +</div> +<p>It was an anxious and wondering household +that Sandy burst in upon next morning, when he +had reached the cabin, escorted to the divide above +Younkins’s place by his kind-hearted host of the +night before. It was Sunday morning, bright and +beautiful; but truly, never had any home looked +so pleasant to his eyes as did the homely and +weather-beaten log-cabin which they called their +own while they lived in it. He had left his borrowed +horse with its owner, and, shouldering his +meal-sack, with its dearly bought contents, he had +taken a short-cut to the cabin, avoiding the usual +trail in order that as he approached he might not +be seen from the window looking down the river.</p> +<p>“Oh, Sandy’s all right,” he heard his brother +Charlie say. “I’ll stake my life that he will come +home with flying colors, if you only give him time. +He’s lost the trail somehow, and had to put up +at some cabin all night. Don’t you worry about +Sandy.”</p> +<p>“But these Indian stories; I don’t like them,” +said his father, with a tinge of sadness in his voice. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span></p> +<p>Sandy could bear no more; so, flinging down +his burden, he bounced into the cabin with, “Oh, +I’m all right! Safe and sound, but as hungry as +a bear.”</p> +<p>The little party rushed to embrace the young +adventurer, and, in their first flush of surprise, +nobody remembered to be severe with him for his +carelessness. Quite the hero of the hour, the lad +sat on the table and told them his tale, how he had +lost his way, and how hospitably and well he had +been cared for at Fuller’s.</p> +<p>“Fuller’s!” exclaimed his uncle. “What in +the world took you so far off your track as +Fuller’s? You must have gone at least ten miles +out of your way.”</p> +<p>“Yes, Uncle Charlie,” said the boy, “it’s just as +easy to travel ten miles out of the way as it is to +go one. All you have to do is to get your face in +the wrong way, and all the rest is easy. Just keep +a-going; that’s what I did. I turned to the right +instead of to the left, and for once I found that +the right was wrong.”</p> +<p>A burst of laughter from Oscar, who had been +opening the sack that held Sandy’s purchases, interrupted +the story.</p> +<p>“Just see what a hodgepodge of a mess Sandy +has brought home! Tobacco, biscuits, ginger, and +I don’t know what not, all in a pudding. It only +lacks milk and eggs to make it a cracker pudding +flavored with ginger and smoking-tobacco!” And +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +everybody joined in the laugh that a glance at +Sandy’s load called forth.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the blushing boy; “I forgot to tie +the bag at both ends, and the jouncing up and +down of Younkins’s old horse (dear me! wasn’t he +a hard trotter!) must have made a mash of everything +in the bag. The paper of tobacco burst, and +then I suppose the ginger followed; the jolting of +poor old ‘Dobbin’ did the rest. Ruined, daddy? +Nothing worth saving?”</p> +<p>Mr. Howell ruefully acknowledged that the +mixture was not good to eat, nor yet to smoke, +and certainly not to make gingerbread of. So, +after picking out some of the larger pieces of the +biscuits, the rest was thrown away, greatly to +Sandy’s mortification.</p> +<p>“All of my journey gone for nothing,” he said, +with a sigh.</p> +<p>“Never mind, my boy,” said his father, fondly; +“since you have come back alive and well, let the +rest of the business care for itself. As long as you +are alive, and the redskins have not captured you, +I am satisfied.”</p> +<p>Such was Sandy’s welcome home.</p> +<p>With the following Monday morning came hard +work,––harder work, so Sandy thought, than miserably +trying to find one’s way in the darkness of +a strange region of country. For another log-house, +this time on the prairie claim, was to be +begun at once. They might be called on at any +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span> +time to give up the cabin in which they were +simply tenants at will, and it was necessary that +a house of some sort be put on the claim that they +had staked out and planted. The corn was up and +doing well. Sun and rain had contributed to +hasten on the corn-field, and the vines of the +melons were vigorously pushing their way up and +down the hills of grain. Charlie wondered what +they would do with so many watermelons when +they ripened; there would be hundreds of them; +and the mouths that were to eat them, although +now watering for the delicious fruit, were not +numerous enough to make away with a hundredth +part of what would be ripe very soon. There was +no market nearer than the post, and there were +many melon-patches between Whittier’s and the +fort.</p> +<p>But the new log-house, taken hold of with +energy, was soon built up to the height where the +roof was to be put on. At this juncture, Younkins +advised them to roof over the cabin slightly, make +a corn-bin of it, and wait for developments. For, +he argued, if there should be any rush of emigrants +and settlers to that part of the country, so that +their claims were in danger of dispute, they would +have ample warning, and could make ready for an +immediate occupation of the place. If nobody +came, then the corn-house, or bin, would be all +they wanted of the structure.</p> +<p>But Mr. Howell, who took the lead in all such +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +matters, shook his head doubtfully. He was not +in favor of evading the land laws; he was more +afraid of the claim being jumped. If they were to +come home from a hunting trip, some time, and +find their log-cabin occupied by a “claim-jumper,” +or “squatter,” as these interlopers are called, and +their farm in the possession of strangers, wouldn’t +they feel cheap? He thought so.</p> +<p>“Say, Uncle Aleck,” said Oscar, “why not finish +it off as a cabin to live in, put in the corn when it +ripens, and then we shall have the concern as a +dwelling, in case there is any danger of the claim +being jumped?”</p> +<p>“Great head, Oscar,” said his uncle, admiringly. +“That is the best notion yet. We will complete +the cabin just as if we were to move into it, and if +anybody who looks like an intended claim-jumper +comes prowling around, we will take the alarm and +move in. But so far, I’m sure, there’s been no +rush to these parts. It’s past planting season, and +it is not likely that anybody will get up this way, +now so far west, without our knowing it.”</p> +<p>So the log-cabin, or, as they called it, “Whittier, +Number Two,” was finished with all that the land +laws required, with a window filled with panes of +glass, a door, and a “stick chimney” built of sticks +plastered with clay, a floor and space enough on +the ground to take care of a family twice as large +as theirs, in case of need. When all was done, +they felt that they were now able to hold their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span> +farming claim as well as their timber claim, for on +each was a goodly log-house, fit to live in and comfortable +for the coming winter if they should make +up their minds to live in the two cabins during +that trying season.</p> +<p>The boys took great satisfaction in their kitchen-garden +near the house in which they were tenants; +for when Younkins lived there, he had +ploughed and spaded the patch, and planted it two +seasons, so now it was an old piece of ground compared +with the wild land that had just been broken +up around it. In their garden-spot they had planted +a variety of vegetables for the table, and in the +glorious Kansas sunshine, watered by frequent +showers, they were thriving wonderfully. They +promised themselves much pleasure and profit from +a garden that they would make by their new cabin, +when another summer should come.</p> +<p>“Younkins says that he can walk all over his +melon-patch on the other side of the Fork, stepping +only on the melons and never touching the ground +once,” said Oscar, one day, later in the season, as +they were feasting themselves on one of the delicious +watermelons that now so plentifully dotted +their own corn-field.</p> +<p>“What a big story!” exclaimed both of the +other boys at once. But Oscar appealed to his +father, who came striding by the edge of the field +where they chatted together. Had he ever heard +of such a thing? +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span></p> +<p>“Well,” said Mr. Bryant, good-naturedly, “I +have heard of melons so thick in a patch, and +so big around, that the sunshine couldn’t get to +the ground except at high noon. How is that for +a tall story?”</p> +<p>The boys protested that that was only a tale of +fancy. Could it be possible that anybody could +raise melons so thickly together as Mr. Younkins +had said he had seen them? Mr. Bryant, having +kicked open a fine melon, took out the heart of it +to refresh himself with, as was the manner of the +settlers, where the fruit was so plenty and the +market so far out of reach; then, between long +drafts of the delicious pulp, he explained that certain +things, melons for example, flourished better +on the virgin soil of the sod than elsewhere.</p> +<p>“Another year or so,” he said, “and you will +never see on this patch of land such melons as +these. They will never do so well again on this +soil as this year. I never saw such big melons as +these, and if we had planted them a little nearer +together, I don’t in the least doubt that any smart +boy, like Sandy here, could walk all over the field +stepping from one melon to another, if he only had +a pole to balance himself with as he walked. There +would be nothing very ‘wonderful-like’ about that. +It’s a pity that we have no use for these, there are +so many of them and they are so good. Pity some +of the folks at home haven’t a few of them––a +hundred or two, for instance.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span></p> +<p>It did seem a great waste of good things that +these hundreds and hundreds of great watermelons +should decay on the ground for lack of somebody +to eat them. In the very wantonness of their +plenty the settlers had been accustomed to break +open two or three of the finest of the fruit before +they could satisfy themselves that they had got +one of the best. Even then they only took the +choicest parts, leaving the rest to the birds. By +night, too, the coyotes, or prairie-wolves, mean +and sneaking things that they were, would steal +down into the melon-patch, and, in the desperation +of their hunger, nose into the broken melons left +by the settlers, and attempt to drag away some of +the fragments, all the time uttering their fiendish +yelps and howls.</p> +<p>Somebody had told the boys that the juice of +watermelons boiled to a thick syrup was a very +good substitute for molasses. Younkins told them +that, back in old Missouri, “many families never +had any other kind of sweetenin’ in the house than +watermelon molasses.” So Charlie made an experiment +with the juice boiled until it was pretty +thick. All hands tasted it, and all hands voted +that it was very poor stuff. They decided that +they could not make their superabundance of +watermelons useful except as an occasional refreshment.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XV_PLAY_COMES_AFTER_WORK' id='CHAPTER_XV_PLAY_COMES_AFTER_WORK'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2> +<h3>PLAY COMES AFTER WORK.</h3> +</div> +<p>The two cabins built, wood for the winter cut +and hauled, and the planting all done, there was +now nothing left to do but to wait and see the +crop ripen. Their good friend Younkins was in +the same fortunate condition, and he was ready to +suggest, to the intense delight of the boys, that +they might be able to run into a herd of buffalo, if +they should take a notion to follow the old Indian +trail out to the feeding-grounds. In those days +there was no hunting west of the new settlement, +except that by the Indians. In that vague and +mysterious way by which reports travel––in the +air, as it were––among all frontier settlements, +they had heard that buffalo were plenty in the +vast ranges to the westward, the herds moving +slowly northward, grazing as they went. It was +now the season of wild game, and so the boys +were sent across to Younkins’s to ask him what he +thought of a buffalo-hunting trip.</p> +<p>Reaching his cabin, the good woman of the house +told them that he had gone into the tall timber +near by, thinking he heard some sort of wild birds +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +in the underbrush. He had taken his gun with +him; in fact, Younkins was seldom seen without +his gun, except when he was at work in the fields. +The boys gleefully followed Younkins’s trail into +the forest, making for an opening about a half-mile +away, where Mrs. Younkins thought he was most +likely to be found. “Major,” the big yellow dog, a +special pet of Sandy’s, accompanied them, although +his mistress vainly tried to coax him back. Major +was fond of boys’ society.</p> +<p>“There’s Younkins now!” cried Oscar, as they +drew near an opening in the wood into which the +hot sunlight poured. Younkins was half crouching +and cautiously making his way into the nearer +side of the opening, and the boys, knowing that +he was on the track of game, silently drew near, +afraid of disturbing the hunter or the hunted. Suddenly +Major, catching sight of the game, bounded +forward with a loud bark into the tangle of berry +bushes and vines. There was a confused noise of +wings, a whistle of alarm which also sounded like +the gobble of a turkey, and four tremendous birds +rose up, and with a motion, that was partly a run +and partly a flying, they disappeared into the +depths of the forest. To their intense surprise, +the usually placid Younkins turned savagely upon +the dog, and saying, “Drat that fool dog!” fired +one barrel loaded with fine bird-shot into poor +Major.</p> +<p>“Four as fine wild turkeys as you ever saw in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span> +your life!” he explained, as if in apology to the +boys. “I was sure of at least two of ’em; and +that lunkhead of a dog must needs dash in and +scare ’em up. It’s too pesky blamed bad!”</p> +<p>The boys were greatly mortified at the disaster +that they had brought upon Younkins and Major +by bringing the dog out with them. But when +Charlie, as the eldest, explained that they had no +idea that Major would work mischief, Younkins +said, “Never mind, boys, for you did not know +what was going on-like.”</p> +<p>Younkins, ashamed, apparently, of his burst of +temper, stooped down, and discovering that Major’s +wounds were not very serious, extracted the shot, +plucked a few leaves of some plant that he seemed +to know all about, and pressed the juice into the +wounds made by the shot. The boys looked on +with silent admiration. This man knew everything, +they thought. They had often marvelled +to see how easily and unerringly he found his way +through woods, streams, and over prairies; now he +showed them another gift. He was a “natural-born +doctor,” as his wife proudly said of him.</p> +<p>“No turkey for supper to-night,” said Younkins, +as he picked up his shot-gun and returned with +the boys to the cabin. He was “right glad,” he +said, to agree to go on a buffalo hunt, if the rest +of the party would like to go. He knew there +must be buffalo off to the westward. He went +with Mr. Fuller and Mr. Battles last year, about +this time, and they had great luck. He would +come over that evening and set a date with the +other men for starting out together.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_12' id='linki_12'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/set-160.jpg' alt='' title='' width='566' height='397' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span class='smcap'>They were Feasting Themselves on One of the Delicious Watermelons that now so Plentifully Dotted their Own Corn-field.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span></div> +<p>Elated with this ready consent of Younkins, the +lads went across the ford, eager to tell their elders +the story of the wild turkeys and poor Major’s exploit. +Sandy, carrying his shot-gun on his shoulder, +lingered behind while the other two boys hurried +up the trail to the log-cabin. He fancied that +he heard a noise as of ducks quacking, in the +creek that emptied into the Fork just below the +ford. So, making his way softly to the densely +wooded bank of the creek, he parted the branches +with great caution and looked in. What a sight +it was! At least fifty fine black ducks were swimming +around, feeding and quacking sociably together, +entirely unconscious of the wide-open blue +eyes that were staring at them from behind the +covert of the thicket. Sandy thought them even +more wonderful and beautiful than the young +fawn and his dam that he had seen on the Fort +Riley trail. For a moment, fascinated by the rare +spectacle, he gazed wonderingly at the ducks as +they swam around, chasing each other, and eagerly +hunting for food. It was but for a moment, however. +Then he raised his shot-gun, and taking +aim into the thickest of the flock, fired both barrels +in quick succession. Instantly the gay clamor of +the pretty creatures ceased, and the flock rose with +a loud whirring of wings, and wheeled away over +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +the tree-tops. The surface of the water, to Sandy’s +excited imagination, seemed to be fairly covered +with birds, some dead, and some struggling with +wounded limbs. The other two boys, startled by +the double report from Sandy’s gun, came scampering +down the trail, just as the lad, all excitement, +was stripping off his clothes to wade into the creek +for his game.</p> +<p>“Ducks! Black ducks! I’ve shot a million of +’em!” cried the boy, exultingly; and in another +instant he plunged into the water up to his middle, +gathering the ducks by the legs and bringing +them to the bank, where Charlie and Oscar, discreetly +keeping out of the oozy creek, received +them, counting the birds as they threw them on +the grass.</p> +<p>“Eighteen, all told!” shouted Oscar, when the +last bird had been caught, as it floundered about +among the weeds, and brought ashore.</p> +<p>“Eighteen ducks in two shots!” cried Sandy, +his freckled face fairly beaming with delight. +“Did ever anybody see such luck?”</p> +<p>They all thought that nobody ever had.</p> +<p>“What’s that on your leg?” asked Oscar, stooping +to pick from Sandy’s leg a long, brown object +looking like a flat worm. To the boys’ intense +astonishment, the thing would not come off, but +stretched out several inches in length, holding on +by one end.</p> +<p>Sandy howled with pain. “It is something that +bites,” he cried. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span></p> +<p>“And there’s another,––and another! Why, +he’s covered all over with ’em!” exclaimed Oscar.</p> +<p>Sure enough, the lad’s legs, if not exactly covered, +were well sprinkled with the things.</p> +<p>“Scrape ’em off with your knife!” cried Sandy.</p> +<p>Oscar usually carried a sheath-knife at his belt, +“more for the style of the thing, than use,” he explained; +so with this he quickly took off the repulsive +creatures, which, loosening their hold, dropped +to the ground limp and shapeless.</p> +<p>“Leeches,” said Charlie, briefly, as he poked one +of them over with a stick. The mystery was explained, +and wherever one of them had been attached +to the boy’s tender skin, blood flowed freely for a +few minutes, and then ceased. Even on one or +two of the birds they found a leech adhering to +the feathers where the poor thing’s blood had followed +the shot. Picking up the game, the two +boys escorted the elated Sandy to the cabin, where +his unexpected adventures made him the hero of +the day.</p> +<p>“Couldn’t we catch some of those leeches and +sell them to the doctors?” asked the practical +Oscar.</p> +<p>His father shook his head. “American wild +leeches like those are not good for much, my son. +I don’t know why not; but I have been told that +only the imported leeches are used by medical +men.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Sandy, tenderly rubbing his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span> +wounded legs, “if imported leeches can bite any +more furiously than these Kansas ones do, I don’t +want any of them to tackle me! I suppose these +were hungry, though, not having had a taste of a +fresh Illinois boy lately. But they didn’t make +much out of me, after all.”</p> +<p>Very happy were those three boys that evening, +as, filled with roast wild duck, they sat by and +heard their elders discuss with Younkins the details +of the grand buffalo hunt that was now to be +organized. Younkins had seen Mr. Fuller, who +had agreed to make one of the party. So there +would be four men and the three boys to compose +the expedition. They were to take two horses, +Fuller’s and Younkins’s, to serve as pack-animals, +for the way to the hunting-ground might be long; +but the hunting was to be done on foot. Younkins +was very sure that they would have no difficulty +in getting near enough to shoot; the animals had +not been hunted much in those parts at that time, +and the Indians killed them on foot very often. If +Indians could do that, why could not white men?</p> +<p>The next two days were occupied in preparations +for the expedition, to the great delight of the boys, +who recalled with amusement something of a similar +feeling that they had when they were preparing +for their trip to Kansas, long ago, away back +in Dixon. How far off that all seemed now! +Now they were in the promised land, and were +going out to hunt for big game––buffalo! It +seemed too good to be true. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span></p> +<p>Bread was made and baked; smoked side-meat, +and pepper and salt packed; a few potatoes taken, +as a luxury in camp-life; blankets, guns, and ammunition +prepared; and above all, plenty of coffee, +already browned and ground, was packed for use. +It was a merry and a buoyant company that started +out in the early dawn of a September morning, +having snatched a hasty breakfast, of which the +excited boys had scarcely time to taste. Buffalo +beef, they confidently said, was their favorite +meat. They would dine on buffalo hump that +very day.</p> +<p>Oscar, more cautious than the others, asked Younkins +if they were sure to see buffalo soon.</p> +<p>“Surely,” replied he; “I was out to the bend of +the Fork just above the bluffs, last night, and the +plains were just full of ’em, just simply black-like, +as it were.”</p> +<p>“What?” exclaimed all three boys, in a breath. +“Plains full of them, and you didn’t even mention +it! What a funny man you are.”</p> +<p>Mr. Howell reminded them that Mr. Younkins +had been accustomed to see buffalo for so long +that he did not think it anything worth mentioning +that he had seen vast numbers of the creatures +already. So, as they pressed on, the boys strained +their eyes in the distance, looking for buffalo. +But no animals greeted their sight, as they passed +over the long green swales of the prairie, mile +after mile, now rising to the top of a little eminence, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span> +and now sinking into a shallow valley; but +occasionally a sneaking, stealthy coyote would +noiselessly trot into view, and then, after cautiously +surveying them from a distance, disappear, as +Sandy said, “as if he had sunk into a hole in the +ground.” It was in vain that they attempted to +get near enough to one of these wary animals to +warrant a shot. It is only by great good luck that +anybody ever shoots a coyote, although in countries +where they abound every man’s hand is +against them; they are such arrant thieves, as well +as cowards.</p> +<p>But at noon, while the little party was taking a +luncheon in the shade of a solitary birch that grew +by the side of a little creek, or runlet, Sandy, the +irrepressible, with his bread and meat in his hand, +darted off to the next roll of the prairie, a high +and swelling hill, in fact, “to see what he could +see.” As soon as the lad had reached the highest +part of the swale, he turned around and swung his +arms excitedly, too far off to make his voice heard. +He jumped up and down, whirled his arms, and +acted altogether like a young lunatic.</p> +<p>“The boy sees buffalo,” said Younkins, with a +smile of calm amusement. He could hardly understand +why anybody should be excited over so +commonplace a matter. But the other two lads +were off like a shot in Sandy’s direction. Reaching +their comrade, they found him in a state of +great agitation. “Oh, look at ’em! Look at ’em! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +Millions on millions! Did anybody ever see the +like?”</p> +<p>Perhaps Sandy’s estimate of the numbers was a +little exaggerated, but it really was a wonderful +sight. The rolls of the prairie, four or five miles +away, were dark with the vast and slow-moving +herds that were passing over, their general direction +being toward the spot on which the boys were +standing. Now and again, some animals strayed +off in broken parties, but for the most part the +phalanx seemed to be solid, so solid that the green +of the earth was completely hidden by the dense +herd.</p> +<p>The boys stood rooted to the spot with the intensity +of their wonder and delight. If there were +not millions in that vast army of buffalo, there +were certainly hundreds of thousands. What +would happen if that great mob should suddenly +take a notion to gallop furiously in their direction?</p> +<p>“You needn’t whisper so,” said Charlie, noticing +the awe-struck tones of the youngsters. “They +can’t hear you, away off there. Why, the very +nearest of the herd cannot be less than five miles +off; and they would run from us, rather than +toward us, if they were to see and hear us.”</p> +<p>“I asked Younkins if he ever had any trouble +with a buffalo when he was hunting, and what do +you suppose he said?” asked Oscar, who had recovered +his voice. “Well, he said that once he +was out on horseback, and had cornered a young +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +buffalo bull in among some limestone ledges up +there on the Upper Fork, and ‘the critter turned +on him and made a nasty noise with his mouth-like,’ +so that he was glad to turn and run. ‘Nasty +noise with his mouth,’ I suppose was a sort of a +snort––a snort-like, as Younkins would say. +There come the rest of the folks. My! won’t +daddy be provoked that we didn’t go back and +help hitch up!”</p> +<p>But the elders of the party had not forgotten +that they were once boys themselves, and when +they reached the point on which the lads stood +surveying the sight, they also were stirred to +enthusiasm. The great herd was still moving on, +the dark folds of the moving mass undulating like +the waves of a sea, as the buffalo rose and fell +upon the surface of the rolling prairie.</p> +<p>As if the leaders had spied the hunters, the +main herd now swung away more to the right, or +northward, only a few detached parties coming +toward the little group of hunters that still watched +them silently from its elevated point of observation.</p> +<p>Younkins surveyed the movement critically and +then announced it as his opinion that the herd was +bound for the waters of the Republican Fork, to +the right and somewhat to the northward of the +party. The best course for them to take now +would be to try and cut off the animals before +they could reach the river. There was a steep +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +and bluffy bank at the point for which the buffalo +seemed to be aiming; that would divert them +further up stream, and if the hunters could only +creep along in the low gullies of the prairie, out of +the sight of the herd, they might reach the place +where the buffalo would cross before they could +get there; for the herd moved slowly; an expert +walker could far out-travel them in a direct line.</p> +<p>“One of you boys will have to stay here by the +stuff; the rest of us will press on in the direction +of the river as fast as may be,” said Uncle Aleck. +The boys looked at each other in dismay. Who +would be willing to be left behind in a chase so +exciting as this? Sandy bravely solved the puzzle.</p> +<p>“Here, you take my shot-gun, Charlie,” he said. +“It carries farther than yours; I’ll stay by the +stuff and the horses; I’m pretty tired, anyhow.” +His father smiled approvingly, but said nothing. +He knew how great a sacrifice the boy was making +for the others.</p> +<p>Left alone on the hill-top, for the rest of the +party moved silently and swiftly away to the +northward, Sandy felt the bitterness of disappointment +as well as of loneliness while he sat on the +grass watching with absorbed attention the motions +of the great herds. All trace of his companions +was soon lost as they passed down into +the gullies and ravines that broke the ground +adjacent to the Fork to the westward of the +stream. Once, indeed, he saw the figures of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +hunters, painted dark against the sky, rise over a +distant swell and disappear just as one of them +turned and waved a signal in dumb show to the +solitary watcher on the hill.</p> +<p>“If those buffalo should get stampeded,” mused +Sandy, “and make a break in this way, it would +be ‘all day’ with those horses and the camp stuff. +I guess I had better make all fast, for there may +be a gale of wind, or a gale of buffalo, which is +the same thing.” So saying, the thoughtful lad +led the animals down into the gully where the +noon luncheon had been taken, removed their +packs, tethered them to the tree, and then ran +back to the hill-top and resumed his watch.</p> +<p>There was no change in the situation except +that there were, if possible, more buffalo moving +over the distant slopes of the rolling prairie. The +boy stood entranced at the sight. More, more, and +yet more of the herds were slowly moving into +sight and then disappearing in the gullies below. +The dark brown folds seemed to envelop the face +of the earth. Sandy wondered where so many +creatures could find pasturage. Their bodies appeared +to cover the hills and valleys, so that there +could not be room left for grazing. “They’ve +got such big feet,” he soliloquized aloud, “that I +should think that the ground would be all pawed +up where they have travelled.” In the ecstasy of +his admiration, he walked to and fro on the hill-top, +talking to himself, as was his wont. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span></p> +<p>“I wonder if the other fellows can see them as +I do?” he asked. “I don’t believe, after all, that +it is one-half so entertaining for them as it is for +me. Oh, I just wish the folks at home could be +here now, and see this sight. It beats all nature, +as Father Dixon used to say. And to think that +there are thousands of people in big cities who +don’t have meat enough to eat. And all this +buffalo-meat running wild!” The boy laughed to +himself at the comicality of the thought. “Fresh +beef running wild!”</p> +<p>The faint report of a gun fired afar off now +reached his ear and he saw a blue puff of smoke +rising from the crest of a timber-bordered hill far +away. The herd in that direction seemed to +swerve somewhat and scatter, but, to his intense +surprise, there was no hurry in their movements; +the brown and black folds of the great mass of +animals still slowly and sluggishly spread out and +flowed like the tides of the sea, enveloping everything. +Suddenly there was another report, then +another, and another. Three shots in quick succession.</p> +<p>“Now they are getting in their work!” shouted +the boy, fairly dancing up and down in his excitement. +“Oh, I wish I was there instead of here +looking on!”</p> +<p>Now the herds wavered for a moment, then their +general direction was changed from the northward +to the eastward. Then there was a swift and sudden +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +movement of the whole mass, and the vast +dark stream flowed in a direction parallel with the +Fork instead of toward it, as heretofore.</p> +<p>“They are coming this way!” shouted Sandy, +to the empty, silent air around him. “I’ll get a +shot at ’em yet!” Then, suddenly recollecting +that his gun had been exchanged for his brother’s, +he added, “And Charlie’s gun is no good!”</p> +<p>In truth, the herd was now bound straight for +the hill on which the boy maintained his solitary +watch. Swiftly running down to the gully in +which the horses were tethered, Sandy got out +his brother’s gun and carefully examined the +caps and the load. They had run some heavy +slugs of lead in a rude mould which they had +made, the slug being just the size of the barrel +of the shot-gun. One barrel was loaded with a +heavy charge of buckshot, and the other with a +slug. The latter was an experiment, and a big +slug like that could not be expected to carry +very far; it might, however, do much damage at +short range.</p> +<p>Running up to the head of the gully, which was +in the nature of a shallow ravine draining the hill +above, Sandy emerged on the highest point of +land, a few hundred feet to the right and north of +his former post of observation. The herd was in +full drive directly toward him. Suppose they +should come driving down over the hills where he +was! They would sweep down into the gully, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +stampede the horses, and trample all the camp stuff +into bits! The boy fairly shook with excitement +as the idea struck him. On they came, the solid +ground shaking under their thundering tread.</p> +<p>“I must try to head ’em off,” said the boy to +himself. “The least I can do is to scare them a +good bit, and then they’ll split in two and the herd +will divide right here. But I must get a shot at +one, or the other fellows will laugh at me.”</p> +<p>The rushing herd was headed right for the spot +where Sandy stood, spreading out to the left and +right, but with the centre of the phalanx steering +in a bee-line for the lad. Thoroughly alarmed +now, Sandy looked around, and perceiving a sharp +outcropping of the underlying stratum of limestone +at the head of the little ravine, he resolved +to shelter himself behind that, in case the buffalo +should continue to come that way. Notwithstanding +his excitement, the lad did not fail to note +two discharges, one after the other, in the distance, +showing that his friends were still keeping up a +fusillade against the flying herds.</p> +<p>At the second shot, Sandy thought that the +masses in the rear swung off more to the southward, +as if panic-stricken by the firing, but the +advance guard still maintained a straight line for +him. There was no escape from it now, and Sandy +looked down at the two horses tethered in the +ravine below, peacefully grazing the short, thick +grass, unconscious of the flood of buffalo undulating +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +over the prairie above them, and soon to swoop +down over the hill-side where they were. In another +instant the lad could see the tossing, shaggy +manes of the leaders of the herd, and could even +distinguish the redness of their eyes as they swept +up the incline, at the head of which he stood. He +hastily dodged behind the crag of rock; it was a +small affair, hardly higher than his head, but wide +enough, he thought, to divide the herd when they +came to it. So he ducked behind it and waited +for coming events.</p> +<p>Sandy was right. Just beyond the rock behind +which he was crouched, the ground fell off rapidly +and left a stiff slope, up which even a stampeded +buffalo would hardly climb. The ground trembled +as the vast army of living creatures came tumbling +and thundering over the prairie. Sandy, stooping +behind the outcropping, also trembled, partly with +excitement and partly with fear. If the buffalo +were to plunge over the very small barrier between +him and them, his fate was sealed. For an instant +his heart stood still. It was but for an instant, +for, before he could draw a long breath, the herd +parted on the two sides of the little crag. The +divided stream poured down on both sides of him, +a tumultuous, broken, and disorderly torrent of +animals, making no sound except for the ceaseless +beat of their tremendous hoofs. Sandy’s eyes +swam with the bewildering motion of the living +stream. For a brief space he saw nothing but a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +confused mass of heads, backs, and horns, hundreds +of thousands flowing tumultuously past. Gradually +his sense of security came back to him, and, +exulting in his safety, he raised his gun, and muttering +under his breath, “Right behind the fore-shoulder-like, +Younkins said,” he took steady aim +and fired. A young buffalo bull tumbled headlong +down the ravine. In their mad haste, a number +of the animals fell over him, pell-mell, but, recovering +themselves with incredible swiftness, they +skipped to their feet, and were speedily on their +way down the hill. Sandy watched, with a beating +heart, the young bull as he fell heels over head +two or three times before he could rally; the poor +creature got upon his feet, fell again, and while +the tender-hearted boy hesitated whether to fire +the second barrel or not, finally fell over on his +side helpless.</p> +<p>Meanwhile the ranks of buffalo coming behind +swerved from the fallen animal to the left and +right, as if by instinct, leaving an open space all +around the point where the boy stood gazing at +his fallen game. He fired, almost at random, at +the nearest of the flying buffalo; but the buckshot +whistled hurtlessly among the herd, and Sandy +thought to himself that it was downright cruelty +to shoot among them, for the scattering shot would +only wound without killing the animals.</p> +<p>It was safe now for Sandy to emerge from his +place of concealment, and, standing on the rocky +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +point behind which he had been hidden, he gazed +to the west and north. The tumbling masses of +buffalo were scattered far apart. Here and there +he could see wide stretches of prairie, no longer +green, but trampled into a dull brown by the tread +of myriads of hurrying feet; and far to the north +the land was clear, as if the main herd had passed +down to the southward. Scattered bands still +hurried along above him, here and there, nearer +to the Fork, but the main herd had gone on in the +general direction of the settlers’ home.</p> +<p>“What if they have gone down to our cabin?” +he muttered aloud. “It’s all up with any corn-field +that they run across. But, then, they must +have kept too far to the south to get anywhere +near our claim.” And the lad consoled himself +with this reflection.</p> +<p>But his game was more engrossing of his attention +just now than anything else. He had been +taught that an animal should not bleed to death +through a gunshot wound. His big leaden slug +had gone directly through the buffalo’s vitals somewhere, +for it was now quite dead. Sandy stood +beside the noble beast with a strange elation, looking +at it before he could make up his mind to cut +its throat and let out the blood. It was a young +bull buffalo that lay before him, the short, sharp +horns ploughed into the ground, and the massive +form, so lately bounding over the rolling prairie, +forever still. To Sandy it all seemed like a dream, +it had come and gone so quickly. His heart misgave +him as he looked, for Sandy had a tender +heart. Then he gently touched the animal with +the toe of his boot and cried, “All by my own +self!”</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_13' id='linki_13'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/set-176.jpg' alt='' title='' width='510' height='395' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span class='smcap'>He Gently Touched the Animal with the Toe of His Boot and Cried, “All by My Own Self</span>.”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span></div> +<p>“Well done, Sandy!” The boy started, turned, +and beheld his cousin Oscar gazing open-mouthed +at the spectacle. “And did you shoot him all by +your very own self? What with? Charlie’s gun?” +The lad poured forth a torrent of questions, and +Sandy proudly answered them all with, “That is +what I did.”</p> +<p>As the two boys hung with delight over the +prostrate beast, Oscar told the tale of disappointment +that the others had to relate. They had +gone up the ravines that skirted the Fork, prowling +on their hands and knees; but the watchers of +the herd were too wary to let the hunters get near +enough for a good shot. They had fired several +times, but had brought down nothing. Sandy +had heard the shots? Yes, Sandy had heard, and +had hoped that somebody was having great sport. +After all, he thought, as he looked at the fallen +monarch of the prairie, it was rather cruel business. +Oscar did not think so; he wished he had had +such luck.</p> +<p>The rest of the party now came up, one after +another, and all gave a whoop of astonishment +and delight at Sandy’s great success as soon as +they saw his noble quarry. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span></p> +<p>The sun was now low in the west; here was a +good place for camping; a little brush would do +for firing, and water was close at hand. So the +tired hunters, after a brief rest, while they lay on +the trampled grass and recounted the doings of +the day, went to work at the game. The animal +was dressed, and a few choice pieces were hung on +the tree to cool for their supper. It was dark +when they gathered around their cheerful fire, as +the cool autumnal evening came on, and cooked +and ate with infinite zest their first buffalo-meat. +Boys who have never been hungry with the hunger +of a long tramp over the prairies, hungry for +their first taste of big game of their own shooting, +cannot possibly understand how good to the Boy +Settlers was their supper on the wind-swept slopes +of the Kansas plains.</p> +<p>Wrapping themselves as best they could in +the blankets and buffalo-robes brought from home, +the party lay down in the nooks and corners of the +ravine, first securing the buffalo-meat on the tree +that made their camp.</p> +<p>“What, for goodness’ sake, is that?” asked +Charlie, querulously, as he was roused out of his +sleep by a dismal cry not far away in the darkness.</p> +<p>“Wolves,” said Younkins, curtly, as he raised +himself on one elbow to listen. “The pesky critters +have smelt blood; they would smell it if they +were twenty miles off, I do believe, and they are +gathering round as they scent the carcass.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span></p> +<p>By this, all of the party were awake except +Sandy, who, worn out with excitement, perhaps, +slept on through all the fearful din. The mean +little prairie-wolves gathered, and barked, and +snarled, in the distance. Nearer, the big wolves +howled like great dogs, their long howl occasionally +breaking into a bark; and farther and +farther off, away in the extremest distance, they +could hear other wolves, whose hollow-sounding +cry seemed like an echo of their more fortunate +brethren, nearer the game. A party of the creatures +were busy at the offal from the slain buffalo, +just without the range of the firelight, for the +camp-fire had been kept alight. Into the struggling, +snarling group Younkins discharged his +rifle. There was a sharp yell of pain, a confused +patter of hurrying feet, and in an instant all was +still.</p> +<p>Sandy started up. “Who’s shot another buffalo?” +he asked, as if struggling with a dream. +The others laughed, and Charlie explained what +had been going on, and the tired boy lay down to +sleep again. But that was not a restful night for +any of the campers. The wolves renewed their +howling. The hunters were able to snatch only a +few breaths of sleep from time to time, in moments +when the dismal ululation of the wolf-chorus subsided. +The sun rose, flooding the rolling prairies +with a wealth of golden sunshine. The weary +campers looked over the expanse around them, but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span> +not a remnant of the rejected remains of the buffalo +was to be seen; and in all the landscape about, +no sign of any living thing was in sight, save +where some early-rising jack-rabbit scudded over +the torn sod, hunting for his breakfast.</p> +<p>Fresh air, bright sunlight, and a dip in a cool +stream are the best correctives for a head heavy +with want of sleep; and the hunters, refreshed by +these and a pot of strong and steaming coffee, were +soon ready for another day’s sport.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVI_A_GREAT_DISASTER' id='CHAPTER_XVI_A_GREAT_DISASTER'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> +<h3>A GREAT DISASTER.</h3> +</div> +<p>The hunters had better success on their second +day’s search for buffalo; for they not only found +the animals, but they killed three. The first game +of the day was brought down by Younkins, who +was the “guide, philosopher, and friend” of the +party, and Oscar, the youngest of them all, slew +the second. The honor of bringing down the third +and last was Uncle Aleck’s. When he had killed +his game, he was anxious to get home as soon as +possible, somewhat to the amusement of the others, +who rallied him on his selfishness. They hinted +that he would not be so ready to go home, if he yet +had his buffalo to kill, as had some of the others.</p> +<p>“I’m worried about the crop, to tell the truth,” +said Mr. Howell. “If that herd of buffalo swept +down on our claim, there’s precious little corn left +there now; and it seemed to me that they went in +that direction.”</p> +<p>“If that’s the case,” said the easy-going Younkins, +“what’s the use of going home? If the corn +is gone, you can’t get it back by looking at the +place where it was.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span></p> +<p>They laughed at this cool and practical way of +looking at things, and Uncle Aleck was half +ashamed to admit he wanted to be rid of his present +suspense, and could not be satisfied until he +had settled in his mind all that he dreaded and +feared.</p> +<p>It was a long and wearisome tramp homeward. +But they had been more successful than they had +hoped or expected, and the way did not seem so +long as it would if they had been empty-handed. +The choicest parts of their game had been carefully +cooled by hanging in the dry Kansas wind, over +night, and were now loaded upon the pack-animals. +There was enough and more than enough for each +of the three families represented in the party; and +they had enjoyed many a savory repast of buffalo-meat +cooked hunter-fashion before an open camp-fire, +while their expedition lasted. So they hailed +with pleasure the crooked line of bluffs that marks +the big bend of the Republican Fork near which +the Whittier cabin was built. Here and there they +had crossed the trail, broad and well pounded, of +the great herd that had been stampeded on the first +day of their hunt. But for the most part the track +of the animal multitude bore off more to the south, +and the hunters soon forgot their apprehensions +of danger to the corn-fields left unfenced on their +claim.</p> +<p>It was sunset when the weary pilgrims reached +the bluff that overlooked the Younkins cabin +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span> +where the Dixon party temporarily dwelt. The +red light of the sun deluged with splendor the +waving grass of the prairie below them, and jack-rabbits +scurrying hither and yon were the only +signs of life in the peaceful picture. Tired as he +was, Oscar could not resist taking a shot at one of +the flying creatures; but before he could raise his +gun to his shoulder, the long-legged, long-eared +rabbit was out of range. Running briskly for a +little distance, it squatted in the tall grass. Piqued +at this, Oscar stealthily followed on the creature’s +trail. “It will make a nice change from so much +buffalo-meat,” said the lad to himself, “and if I +get him into the corn-field, he can’t hide so easily.”</p> +<p>He saw Jack’s long ears waving against the sky +on the next rise of ground, as he muttered this to +himself, and he pressed forward, resolved on one +parting shot. He mounted the roll of the prairie, +and before him lay the corn-field. It was what +had been a corn-field! Where had stood, on the +morning of their departure, a glorious field of gold +and green, the blades waving in the breeze like +banners, was now a mass of ruin. The tumultuous +drove had plunged down over the ridge above the +field, and had fled, in one broad swath of destruction, +straight over every foot of the field, their +trail leaving a brown and torn surface on the earth, +wide on both sides of the plantation. Scarcely a +trace of greenness was left where once the corn-field +had been. Here and there, ears of grain, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +broken and trampled into the torn earth, hinted +what had been; but for the most part hillock, +stalk, corn-blade, vine, and melon were all crushed +into an indistinguishable confusion, muddy and +wrecked.</p> +<p>Oscar felt a shudder pass down his back, and +his knees well-nigh gave way under him as he +caught a glimpse of the ruin that had been wrought. +Tears were in his eyes, and, unable to raise a shout, +he turned and wildly waved his hands to the party, +who had just then reached the door of the cabin. +His Uncle Aleck had been watching the lad, and +as he saw him turn he exclaimed, “Oscar has +found the buffalo trail over the corn-field!”</p> +<p>The whole party moved quickly in the direction +of the plantation. When they reached the rise of +ground overlooking the field, Oscar, still unable to +speak, turned and looked at his father with a face +of grief. Uncle Aleck, gazing on the wreck and +ruin, said only, “A whole summer’s work gone!”</p> +<p>“A dearly bought buffalo-hunt!” remarked +Younkins.</p> +<p>“That’s so, neighbor,” added Mr. Bryant, with +the grimmest sort of a smile; and then the men +fell to talking calmly of the wonderful amount of +mischief that a drove of buffalo could do in a few +minutes, even seconds, of time. Evidently, the +animals had not stopped to snatch a bite by the +way. They had not tarried an instant in their +wild course. Down the slope of the fields they +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +had hurried in a mad rush, plunged into the woody +creek below, and, leaving the underbrush and +vines broken and flattened as if a tornado had +passed through the land, had thundered away +across the flat floor of the bottom-land on the +further side of the creek. A broad brown track +behind them showed that they had then fled into +the dim distance of the lands of the Chapman’s +Creek region.</p> +<p>There was nothing to be done, and not much to +be said. So, parting with their kindly and sympathizing +neighbors, the party went sorrowfully +home.</p> +<p>“Well,” said Uncle Aleck, as soon as they were +alone together, “I am awful sorry that we have +lost the corn; but I am not so sure that it is so +very great a loss, after all.”</p> +<p>The boys looked at him with amazement, and +Sandy said,––</p> +<p>“Why, daddy, it’s the loss of a whole summer; +isn’t it? What are we going to live on this whole +winter that’s coming, now that we have no corn +to sell?”</p> +<p>“There’s no market for free-State corn in these +parts, Sandy,” replied his father; and, seeing the +look of inquiry on the lad’s face, he explained: +“Mr. Fuller tells us that the officer at the post, +the quartermaster at Fort Riley who buys for the +Government, will buy no grain from free-State +men. Several from the Smoky Hill and from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +Chapman’s have been down there to find a market, +and they all say the same thing. The sutler at +the post, Sandy’s friend, told Mr. Fuller that it +was no use for any free-State man to come there +with anything to sell to the Government, at any +price. And there is no other good market nearer +than the Missouri, you all know that,––one hundred +and fifty miles away.”</p> +<p>“Well, I call that confoundedly mean!” cried +Charlie, with fiery indignation. “Do you suppose, +father, that they have from Washington any such +instructions to discriminate against us?”</p> +<p>“I cannot say as to that, Charlie,” replied his +father; “I only tell you what the other settlers +report; and it sounds reasonable. That is why +the ruin of the corn-field is not so great a misfortune +as it might have been.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVII_THE_WOLF_AT_THE_DOOR' id='CHAPTER_XVII_THE_WOLF_AT_THE_DOOR'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> +<h3>THE WOLF AT THE DOOR.</h3> +</div> +<p>Uncle Aleck and Mr. Bryant had gone over +to Chapman’s Creek to make inquiries about the +prospect of obtaining corn for their cattle through +the coming winter, as the failure of their own crop +had made that the next thing to be considered. +The three boys were over at the Younkins cabin +in quest of news from up the river, where, it was +said, a party of California emigrants had been fired +upon by the Indians. They found that the party +attacked was one coming from California, not +migrating thither. It brought the Indian frontier +very near the boys to see the shot-riddled wagons, +left at Younkins’s by the travellers. The Cheyennes +had shot into the party and had killed four +and wounded two, at a point known as Buffalo +Creek, some one hundred miles or so up the Republican +Fork. It was a daring piece of effrontery, +as there were two military posts not very far away, +Fort Kearney above and Fort Riley below.</p> +<p>“But they are far enough away by this time,” +said Younkins, with some bitterness. “Those +military posts are good for nothin’ but to run to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span> +in case of trouble. No soldiers can get out into +the plains from any of them quick enough to catch +the slowest Indian of the lot.”</p> +<p>Charlie was unwilling to disagree with anything +that Younkins said, for he had the highest respect +for the opinions of this experienced old plainsman. +But he couldn’t help reminding him that it would +take a very big army to follow up every stray +band of Indians, provided any of the tribes should +take a notion to go on the warpath.</p> +<p>“Just about this time, though, the men that +were stationed at Fort Riley are all down at +Lawrence to keep the free-State people from +sweeping the streets with free-State brooms, or +something that-a-way,” said Younkins, determined +to have his gibe at the useless soldiery, as he +seemed to think them. Oscar was interested at +once. Anything that related to the politics of +Kansas the boy listened to greedily.</p> +<p>“It’s something like this,” explained Younkins. +“You see the free-State men have got a government +there at Lawrence which is lawful under the +Topeka Legislator’, as it were. The border-State +men have got a city government under the Lecompton +Legislatur’; and so the two are quarrelling +to see which shall govern the city; ’tisn’t +much of a city, either.”</p> +<p>“But what have the troops from Fort Riley to +do with it? I don’t see that yet,” said Oscar, +with some heat.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_14' id='linki_14'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/set-188.jpg' alt='' title='' width='561' height='336' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span class='smcap'>A Great Disaster.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span></div> +<p>“Well,” said Younkins, “I am a poor hand at +politics; but the way I understand it is that the +Washington Government is in favor of the border-State +fellows, and so the troops have been sent +down to stand by the mayor that belongs to the +Lecompton fellows. Leastways, that is the way +the sutler down to the post put it to me when I +was down there with the folks that were fired on +up to Buffalo Creek; I talked with him about it +yesterday. That’s why I said they were at Lawrence +to prevent the streets being swept by free-State +brooms. That is the sutler’s joke. See?”</p> +<p>“That’s what I call outrageous,” cried Oscar, +his eyes snapping with excitement. “Here’s a +people up here on the frontier being massacred by +Indians, while the Government troops are down at +Lawrence in a political quarrel!”</p> +<p>The boys were so excited over this state of +things that they paid very little attention to anything +else while on their way back to the cabin, +full of the news of the day. Usually, there was +not much news to discuss on the Fork.</p> +<p>“What’s that by the cabin-door?” said Sandy, +falling back as he looked up the trail and beheld +a tall white, or light gray, animal smelling around +the door-step of the cabin, only a half-mile away. +It seemed to be about as large as a full-grown +calf, and it moved stealthily about, and yet with a +certain unconcern, as if not used to being scared +easily. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span></p> +<p>“It’s a wolf!” cried Oscar. “The Sunday that +Uncle Aleck and I saw one from the bluff yonder, +he was just like that. Hush, Sandy, don’t talk so +loud, or you’ll frighten him off before we can get +a crack at him. Let’s go up the trail by the +ravine, and perhaps we can get a shot before he +sees us.”</p> +<p>It was seldom that the boys stirred abroad without +firearms of some sort. This time they had a +shot-gun and a rifle with them, and, examining +the weapons as they went, they ran down into a +dry gully, to follow which would bring them unperceived +almost as directly to the cabin as by the +regular trail. As noiselessly as possible, the boys +ran up the gully trail, their hearts beating high +with expectation. It would be a big feather in +their caps if they could only have a gray wolf’s +skin to show their elders on their return from +Chapman’s.</p> +<p>“You go round the upper side of the house with +your rifle, Oscar, and I’ll go round the south side +with the shot-gun,” was Charlie’s advice to his +cousin when they had reached the spring at the +head of the gully, back of the log-cabin. With +the utmost caution, the two boys crept around opposite +corners of the house, each hoping he would +be lucky enough to secure the first shot. Sandy +remained behind, waiting with suppressed excitement +for the shot. Instead of the report of a firearm, +he heard a peal of laughter from both boys. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span></p> +<p>“What is it?” he cried, rushing from his place +of concealment. “What’s the great joke?”</p> +<p>“Nothing,” said Oscar, laughing heartily, “only +that as I was stealing around the corner here by +the corral, Charlie was tiptoeing round the other +corner with his eyes bulging out of his head as if +he expected to see that wolf.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” laughed Charlie, “and if Oscar had been +a little quicker, he would have fired at me. He +had his gun aimed right straight ahead as he came +around the corner of the cabin.”</p> +<p>“And that wolf is probably miles and miles +away from here by this time, while you two fellows +were sneaking around to find him. Just as if he +was going to wait here for you!” It was Sandy’s +turn to laugh, then.</p> +<p>The boys examined the tracks left in the soft +loam of the garden by the strange animal, and +came to the conclusion that it must have been a +very large wolf, for its footsteps were deep as if it +were a heavy creature, and their size was larger +than that of any wolf-tracks they had ever seen.</p> +<p>When the elders heard the story on their arrival +from Chapman’s, that evening, Uncle Aleck remarked +with some grimness, “So the wolf is at +the door at last, boys.” The lads by this understood +that poverty could not be far off; but they +could not comprehend that poverty could affect +them in a land where so much to live upon was +running wild, so to speak. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span></p> +<p>“Who is this that rides so fast?” queried +Charlie, a day or two after the wolf adventure, as +he saw a stranger riding up the trail from the ford. +It was very seldom that any visitor, except the +good Younkins, crossed their ford. And Younkins +always came over on foot.</p> +<p>Here was a horseman who rode as if in haste. +The unaccustomed sight drew all hands around +the cabin to await the coming of the stranger, who +rode as if he were on some important errand bent. +It was Battles. His errand was indeed momentous. +A corporal from the post had come to his +claim, late in the night before, bidding him warn +all the settlers on the Fork that the Cheyennes +were coming down the Smoky Hill, plundering, +burning, and slaying the settlers. Thirteen white +people had been killed in the Smoky Hill country, +and the savages were evidently making their way +to the fort, which at that time was left in an +unprotected condition. The commanding officer +sent word to all settlers that if they valued their +lives they would abandon their claims and fly to +the fort for safety. Arms and ammunition would +be furnished to all who came. Haste was necessary, +for the Indians were moving rapidly down +the Smoky Hill.</p> +<p>“But the Smoky Hill is twenty-five or thirty +miles from here,” said Mr. Bryant; “why should +they strike across the plains between here and +there?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span></p> +<p>Battles did not know; but he supposed, from +his talk with the corporal, that it was expected +that the Cheyennes would not go quite to the fort, +but, having raided the Smoky Hill country down +as near to the post as might seem safe, they would +strike across to the Republican Fork at some +narrow point between the two rivers, travel up +that stream, and so go back to the plains from +which they came, robbing and burning by the way.</p> +<p>The theory seemed a reasonable one. Such a +raid was like Indian warfare.</p> +<p>“How many men are there at the post?” asked +Uncle Aleck.</p> +<p>“Ten men including the corporal and a lieutenant +of cavalry,” replied Battles, who was a pro-slavery +man. “The rest are down at Lawrence to +suppress the rebellion.”</p> +<p>“So the commanding officer at the post wants +us to come down and help defend the fort, which +has been left to take care of itself while the troops +are at Lawrence keeping down the free-State men,” +said Mr. Bryant, bitterly. “For my part, I don’t +feel like going. How is it with you, Aleck?”</p> +<p>“I guess we had better take care of ourselves +and the boys, Charlie,” said Uncle Aleck, cheerily. +“It’s pretty mean for Uncle Sam to leave the +settlers to take care of themselves and the post at +this critical time, I know; but we can’t afford to +quibble about that now. Safety is the first consideration. +What does Younkins say?” he asked +of Battles. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span></p> +<p>“A randyvoo has been appointed at my house +to-night,” said the man, “and Younkins said he +would be there before sundown. He told me to +tell you not to wait for him; he would meet you +there. He has sent his wife and children over to +Fuller’s, and Fuller has agreed to send them with +Mrs. Fuller over to the Big Blue, where there is +no danger. Fuller will be back to my place by +midnight. There is no time to fool away.”</p> +<p>Here was an unexpected crisis. The country +was evidently alarmed and up in arms. An Indian +raid, even if over twenty miles away, was a +terror that they had not reckoned on. After a +hurried consultation, the Whittier settlers agreed +to be at the “randyvoo,” as Battles called it, before +daybreak next morning. They thought it +best to take his advice and hide what valuables +they had in the cabin, make all snug, and leave +things as if they never expected to see their home +again, and take their way to the post as soon as +possible.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_15' id='linki_15'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/set-194.jpg' alt='' title='' width='391' height='529' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span class='smcap'>The Retreat to Battles’s.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span></div> +<p>It was yet early morning, for Mr. Battles had +wasted no time in warning the settlers as soon as +he had received notice from the fort. They had +all the day before them for their preparations. So +the settlers, leaving other plans for the time, went +zealously to work packing up and secreting in the +thickets and the gully the things they thought +most valuable and they were least willing to spare. +Clothing, crockery, and table knives and forks +were wrapped up in whatever came handy and +were buried in holes dug in the ploughed ground. +Lead, bullets, slugs, and tools of various kinds +were buried or concealed in the forks of trees, +high up and out of sight. Where any articles +were buried in the earth, a fire was afterwards +built on the surface so that no trace of the disturbed +ground should be left to show the expected +redskins that goods had been there concealed. +They lamented that a sack of flour and a keg of +molasses could not be put away, and that their +supply of side-meat, which had cost them a long +journey to Manhattan, must be abandoned to the +foe––if he came to take it. But everything that +could be hidden in trees or buried in the earth was +so disposed of as rapidly as possible.</p> +<p>Perhaps the boys, after the first flush of apprehension +had passed, rather enjoyed the novelty +and the excitement. Their spirits rose as they +privately talked among themselves of the real +Indian warfare of which this was a foretaste. They +hoped that it would be nothing worse. When the +last preparations were made, and they were ready +to depart from their home, uncertain whether they +would ever see it again, Sandy, assisted by Oscar, +composed the following address. It was written +in a big, boyish hand on a sheet of letter-paper, +and was left on the table in the middle of their +cabin:–– +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span></p> +<p style='margin-left:1.0em; margin-right:2.0em; '><span class='smcap'>Good Mister Indian:</span> We are leaving in a hurry and +we want you to be careful of the fire when you come. Don’t +eat the corn-meal in the sack in the corner; it is poisoned. +The flour is full of crickets, and crickets are not good for the +stomach. Don’t fool with the matches, nor waste the molasses. +Be done as you would do by, for that is the golden +rule.</p> +<p style='margin-left:1.0em; margin-right:2.0em; text-align:right'><span style='margin-right: 8.203125em;'>Yours truly,</span><br /> +<span style='margin-right: 1.0em;'><span class='smcap'>The Whittier Settlers</span>.</span><br /></p> +<p>Even in the midst of their uneasiness and +trouble, their elders laughed at this unique composition, +although Mr. Bryant thought that the +boys had mixed their version of the golden rule. +Sandy said that no Cheyenne would be likely to +improve upon it. So, with many misgivings, the +little party closed the door of their home behind +them, and took up their line of march to the rendezvous.</p> +<p>The shortest way to Battles’s was by a ford +farther down the river, and not by the way of the +Younkins place. So, crossing the creek on a fallen +tree near where Sandy had shot his famous flock +of ducks, and then steering straight across the flat +bottom-land on the opposite side, the party struck +into a trail that led through the cottonwoods +skirting the west bank of the stream. The moon +was full, and the darkness of the grove through +which they wended their way in single file was +lighted by long shafts of moonbeams that streamed +through the dense growth. The silence, save for +the steady tramp of the little expedition, was absolute. +Now and again a night-owl hooted, or a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span> +sleeping hare, scared from its form, scampered +away into the underbrush; but these few sounds +made the solitude only more oppressive. Charlie, +bringing up the rear, noted the glint of the moonlight +on the barrels of the firearms carried by the +party ahead of him, and all the romance in his +nature was kindled by the thought that this was +frontier life in the Indian country. Not far away, +he thought, as he turned his face to the southward, +the cabins of settlers along the Smoky Hill were +burning, and death and desolation marked the +trail of the cruel Cheyennes.</p> +<p>Now and again Sandy, shivering in the chill +and dampness of the wood, fell back and whispered +to Oscar, who followed him in the narrow trail, +that this would be awfully jolly if he were not so +sleepy. The lad was accustomed to go to bed +soon after dark; it was now late into the night.</p> +<p>All hands were glad when the big double cabin +of the Battles family came in sight about midnight, +conspicuous on a rise of the rolling prairie and +black against the sky. Lights were burning +brightly in one end of the cabin; in the other end +a part of the company had gone to sleep, camping +on the floor. Hot coffee and corn-bread were +ready for the newcomers, and Younkins, with a +tender regard for the lads, who were unaccustomed +to milk when at home, brought out a big +pan of delicious cool milk for their refreshment. +Altogether, as Sandy confessed to himself, an Indian +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +scare was not without its fun. He listened +with great interest to the tales that the settlers +had to tell of the exploits of Gray Wolf, the +leader and chief of the Cheyennes. He was a +famous man in his time, and some of the elder +settlers of Kansas will even now remember his +name with awe. The boys were not at all desirous +of meeting the Indian foe, but they secretly hoped +that if they met any of the redskins, they would +see the far-famed Gray Wolf.</p> +<p>While the party, refreshed by their late supper, +found a lodging anywhere on the floor of the +cabin, a watch was set outside, for the Indians +might pounce upon them at any hour of the night +or day. Those who had mounted guard during +the earlier part of the evening went to their rest. +Charlie, as he dropped off to sleep, heard the footsteps +of the sentry outside and said to himself, half +in jest, “The Wolf is at the door.”</p> +<p>But no wolf came to disturb their slumbers. +The bright and cheerful day, and the song of birds +dispelled the gloom of the night, and fear was +lifted from the minds of the anxious settlers, some +of whom, separated from wives and children, were +troubled with thoughts of homes despoiled and +crops destroyed. Just as they had finished breakfast +and were preparing for the march to the fort, +now only two or three miles away, a mounted man +in the uniform of a United States dragoon dashed +up to the cabin, and, with a flourish of soldierly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +manner, informed the company that the commanding +officer at the post had information that the +Cheyennes, instead of crossing over to the Republican +as had been expected, or attacking the fort, +had turned and gone back the way they came. +All was safe, and the settlers might go home +assured that there was no danger to themselves +or their families.</p> +<p>Having delivered this welcome message in a +grand and semi-official manner, the corporal dismounted +from his steed, in answer to a pressing +invitation from Battles, and unbent himself like +an ordinary mortal to partake of a very hearty +breakfast of venison, corn-bread, and coffee. The +company unslung their guns and rifles, sat down +again, and regaled themselves with pipes, occasional +cups of strong coffee, and yet more exhilarating +tales of the exploits and adventures of +Indian slayers of the earlier time on the Kansas +frontier. The great Indian scare was over. Before +night fell again, every settler had gone his +own way to his claim, glad that things were no +worse, but groaning at Uncle Sam for the niggardliness +which had left the region so defenceless +when an emergency had come.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVIII_DISCOURAGEMENT' id='CHAPTER_XVIII_DISCOURAGEMENT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> +<h3>DISCOURAGEMENT.</h3> +</div> +<p>Right glad were our settlers to see their log-cabin +home peacefully sleeping in the autumnal +sunshine, as they returned along the familiar trail +from the river. They had gone back by the way +of the Younkins place and had partaken of the +good man’s hospitality. Younkins thought it best +to leave his brood with his neighbors on the Big +Blue for another day. “The old woman,” he said, +“would feel sort of scary-like” until things had +well blown over. She was all right where she +was, and he would try to get on alone for a while. +So the boys, under his guidance, cooked a hearty +luncheon which they heartily enjoyed. Younkins +had milk and eggs, both of which articles were +luxuries to the Whittier boys, for on their ranch +they had neither cow nor hens.</p> +<p>“Why can’t we have some hens this fall, +daddy?” asked Sandy, luxuriating in a big bowl +of custard sweetened with brown sugar, which the +skilful Charlie had compounded. “We can build +a hen-house there by the corral, under the lee of +the cabin, and make it nice and warm for the winter. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +Battles has got hens to sell, and perhaps Mr. +Younkins would be willing to sell us some of his.”</p> +<p>“If we stay, Sandy, we will have some fowls; but +we will talk about that by and by,” said his father.</p> +<p>“Stay?” echoed Sandy. “Why, is there any +notion of going back? Back from ‘bleeding Kansas’? +Why, daddy, I’m ashamed of you.”</p> +<p>Mr. Howell smiled and looked at his brother-in-law. +“Things do not look very encouraging for a +winter in Kansas, bleeding or not bleeding; do +they, Charlie?”</p> +<p>“Well, if you appeal to me, father,” replied +the lad, “I shall be glad to stay and glad to go +home. But, after all, I must say, I don’t exactly +see what we can do here this winter. There is no +farm work that can be done. But it would cost +an awful lot of money to go back to Dixon, unless +we took back everything with us and went as we +came. Wouldn’t it?”</p> +<p>Younkins did not say anything, but he looked +approvingly at Charlie while the other two men +discussed the problem. Mr. Bryant said it was +likely to be a hard winter; they had no corn to +sell, none to feed to their cattle. “But corn is so +cheap that the settlers over on Solomon’s Fork say +they will use it for fuel this winter. Battles told +me so. I’d like to see a fire of corn on the cob; +they say it makes a hot fire burned that way. +Corn-cobs without corn hold the heat a long time. +I’ve tried it.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span></p> +<p>“It is just here, boys,” said Uncle Aleck. “The +folks at home are lonesome; they write, you know, +that they want to come out before the winter sets +in. But it would be mighty hard for women out +here, this coming winter, with big hulking fellows +like us to cook for and with nothing for us to do. +Everything to eat would have to be bought. We +haven’t even an ear of corn for ourselves or our +cattle. Instead of selling corn at the post, as we +expected, we would have to buy of our neighbors, +Mr. Younkins here, and Mr. Fuller, and we would be +obliged to buy our flour and groceries at the post, +or down at Manhattan; and they charge two prices +for things out here; they have to, for it costs +money to haul stuff all the way from the river.”</p> +<p>“That’s so,” said Younkins, resignedly. He was +thinking of making a trip to “the river,” as the +settlers around there always called the Missouri, +one hundred and fifty miles distant. But Younkins +assured his friends that they were welcome to +live in his cabin where they still were at home, for +another year, if they liked, and he would haul +from the river any purchases that they might +make. He was expecting to be ready to start for +Leavenworth in a few days, as they knew, and one +of them could go down with him and lay in a few +supplies. His team could haul enough for all +hands. If not, they could double up the two +teams and bring back half of Leavenworth, if +they had the money to buy so much. He “hated +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +dreadfully” to hear them talking about going +back to Illinois.</p> +<p>But when the settlers reached home and found +amusement and some little excitement in the digging +up of their household treasures and putting +things in place once more, the thought of leaving +this home in the Far West obtruded itself rather +unpleasantly on the minds of all of them, although +nobody spoke of what each thought. Oscar had +hidden his precious violin high up among the +rafters of the cabin, being willing to lose it only if +the cabin were burned. There was absolutely no +other place where it would be safe to leave it. He +climbed to the loft overhead and brought it forth +with great glee, laid his cheek lovingly on its body +and played a familiar air. Engrossed in his music, +he played on and on until he ran into the melody +of “Home, Sweet Home,” to which he had added +many curious and artistic variations.</p> +<p>“Don’t play that, Oscar; you make me homesick!” +cried Charlie, with a suspicious moisture +in his eyes. “It was all very well for us to hear +that when this was the only home we had or expected +to have; but daddy and Uncle Charlie +have set us to thinking about the home in Illinois, +and that will make us all homesick, I really +believe.”</p> +<p>“Here is all my ‘funny business’ wasted,” cried +Sandy. “No Indian came to read my comic letter, +after all. I suppose the mice and crickets must +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +have found some amusement in it; I saw any +number of them scampering away when I opened +the door; but I guess they are the only living +things that have been here since we went away.”</p> +<p>“Isn’t it queer that we should be gone like this +for nearly two days,” said Oscar, “leaving everything +behind us, and come back and know that +nobody has been any nearer to the place than we +have, all the time? I can’t get used to it.”</p> +<p>“My little philosopher,” said his Uncle Charlie, +“we are living in the wilderness; and if you were +to live here always, you would feel, by and by, +that every newcomer was an interloper; you +would resent the intrusion of any more settlers +here, interfering with our freedom and turning +out their cattle to graze on the ranges that seem +to be so like our own, now. That’s what happens +to frontier settlers, everywhere.”</p> +<p>“Why, yes,” said Sandy, “I s’pose we should all be +like that man over on the Big Blue that Mr. Fuller +tells about, who moved away when a newcomer +took up a claim ten miles and a half from him, +because, as he thought, the people were getting too +thick. For my part, I am willing to have this +part of Kansas crowded to within, say, a mile and +a half of us, and no more. Hey, Charlie?”</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_16' id='linki_16'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/set-204.jpg' alt='' title='' width='566' height='430' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +“<span class='smcap'>Home, Sweet Home.</span>”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span></div> +<p>But the prospect of that side of the Republican +Fork being over-full with settlers did not seem very +imminent about that time. From parts of Kansas +nearer to the Missouri River than they were, they +heard of a slackening in the stream of migration. +The prospect of a cold winter had cooled the ardor +of the politicians who had determined, earlier in +the season, to hold the Territory against all comers. +Something like a truce had been tacitly agreed on, +and there was a cessation of hostilities for the present. +The troops had been marched back from +Lawrence to the post, and no more elections were +coming on for the present in any part of the Territory. +Mr. Bryant, who was the only ardent politician +of the company, thought that it would be a +good plan to go back to Illinois for the winter. +They could come out again in the spring and bring +the rest of the two families with them. The land +would not run away while they were gone.</p> +<p>It was with much reluctance that the boys accepted +this plan of their elders. They were especially +sorry that it was thought best that the two +men should stay behind and wind up affairs, while +the three lads would go down to the river with +Younkins, and thence home by steamer from +Leavenworth down the Missouri to St. Louis. +But, after a few days of debate, this was thought +to be the best thing that could be done. It was +on a dull, dark November day that the boys, wading +for the last time the cold stream of the Fork, +crossed over to Younkins’s early in the morning, +while the sky was red with the dawning, carrying +their light baggage with them. They had ferried +their trunks across the day before, using the oxcart +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span> +for the purpose and loading all into Younkins’s +team, ready for the homeward journey.</p> +<p>Now that the bustle of departure had come, it +did not seem so hard to leave the new home on the +Republican as they had expected. It had been +agreed that the two men should follow in a week, +in time to take the last steamboat going down the +river in the fall, from Fort Benton, before the closing +of navigation for the season. Mr. Bryant, unknown +to the boys, had written home to Dixon +directing that money be sent in a letter addressed +to Charlie, in care of a well-known firm in Leavenworth. +They would find it there on their arrival, +and that would enable them to pay their way down +the river to St. Louis and thence home by the railroad.</p> +<p>“But suppose the money shouldn’t turn up?” +asked Charlie, when told of the money awaiting +them. He was accustomed to look on the dark +side of things, sometimes, so the rest of them +thought. “What then?”</p> +<p>“Well, I guess you will have to walk home,” +said his uncle, with a smile. “But don’t worry +about that. At the worst, you can work your +passage to St. Louis, and there you will find +your uncle, Oscar G. Bryant, of the firm of +Bryant, Wilder & Co. I’ll give you his address, +and he will see you through, in case of accidents. +But there will be no accidents. What is the use +of borrowing trouble about that?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span></p> +<p>They did not borrow any trouble, and as they +drove away from the scenes that had grown so +familiar to them, they looked forward, as all boys +would, to an adventurous voyage down the Missouri, +and a welcome home to their mothers and +their friends in dear old Dixon.</p> +<p>The nights were now cold and the days chilly. +They had cooked a goodly supply of provisions +for their journey, for they had not much ready +money to pay for fare by the way. At noon they +stopped by the roadside and made a pot of hot +coffee, opened their stores of provisions and +lunched merrily, gypsy-fashion, caring nothing for +the curious looks and inquisitive questions of +other wayfarers who passed them. For the first +few nights they attempted to sleep in the wagon. +But it was fearfully cold, and the wagon-bed, +cluttered up with trunks, guns, and other things, +gave them very little room. Miserable and sore, +they resolved to spend their very last dollar, if +need be, in paying for lodging at the wayside inns +and hospitable cabins of the settlers along the +road. The journey homeward was not nearly so +merry as that of the outward trip. But new cabins +had been built along their route, and the lads +found much amusement in hunting up their former +camping-places as they drove along the military +road to Fort Leavenworth.</p> +<p>In this way, sleeping at the farm-houses and +such casual taverns as had grown up by the highway, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span> +and usually getting their supper and breakfast +where they slept, they crept slowly toward +the river. Sandy was the cashier of the party, +although he had preferred that Charlie, being the +eldest, should carry their slender supply of cash. +Charlie would not take that responsibility; but, +as the days went by, he rigorously required an +accounting every morning; he was very much +afraid that their money would not hold out until +they reached Leavenworth.</p> +<p>Twenty miles a day with an ox-team was fairly +good travelling; and it was one hundred and fifty +miles from the Republican to the Missouri, as the +young emigrants travelled the road. A whole +week had been consumed by the tedious trip when +they drove into the busy and bustling town of +Leavenworth, one bright autumnal morning. All +along the way they had picked up much information +about the movement of steamers, and they +were delighted to find that the steamboat “New +Lucy” was lying at the levee, ready to sail on the +afternoon of the very day they would be in Leavenworth. +They camped, for the last time, in the +outskirts of the town, a good-natured border-State +man affording them shelter in his hay-barn, where +they slept soundly all through their last night in +“bleeding Kansas.”</p> +<p>The “New Lucy,” from Fort Benton on the +upper Missouri, was blowing off steam as they +drove down to the levee. Younkins helped them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span> +unload their baggage, wrung their hands, one +after another, with real tears in his eyes, for he +had learned to love these hearty, happy lads, and +then drove away with his cattle to pen them for +the day and night that he should be there. Charlie +and Oscar went to the warehouse of Osterhaus & +Wickham, where they were to find the letter from +home, the precious letter containing forty dollars +to pay their expenses homeward.</p> +<p>Sandy sat on the pile of trunks watching with +great interest the novel sight of hurrying passengers, +different from any people he ever saw +before; black “roustabouts,” or deck-hands, tumbling +the cargo and the firewood on board, singing, +shouting, and laughing the while, the white mates +overseeing the work with many hard words, and +the captain, tough and swarthy, superintending +from the upper deck the mates and all hands. A +party of nice-looking, citified people, as Sandy +thought them, attracted his attention on the upper +deck, and he mentally wondered what they could +be doing here, so far in the wilderness.</p> +<p>“Car’ yer baggage aboard, boss?” asked a lively +young negro, half-clad and hungry-looking.</p> +<p>“No, not yet,” answered Sandy, feeling in his +trousers pocket the last two quarters of a dollar +that was left them. “Not yet. I am not ready to go +aboard till my mates come.” The hungry-looking +darky made a rush for another more promising +passenger and left Sandy lounging where the other +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +lads soon after found him. Charlie’s face was a +picture of despair. Oscar looked very grave, for +him.</p> +<p>“What’s up?” cried Sandy, starting from his +seat. “Have you seen a ghost?”</p> +<p>“Worse than that,” said Charlie. “Somebody’s +stolen the money!”</p> +<p>“Stolen the money?” echoed Sandy, with vague +terror, the whole extent of the catastrophe flitting +before his mind. “Why, what on earth do you +mean?”</p> +<p>Oscar explained that they had found the letter, +as they expected, and he produced it, written by +the two loving mothers at home. They said that +they had made up their minds to send fifty dollars, +instead of the forty that Uncle Charlie had said +would be enough. It was in ten-dollar notes, five +of them; at least, it had been so when the letter +left Dixon. When it was opened in Leavenworth, +it was empty, save for the love and tenderness +that were in it. Sandy groaned.</p> +<p>The lively young darky came up again with, +“Car’ yer baggage aboard, boss?”</p> +<p>It was sickening.</p> +<p>“What’s to be done now?” said Charlie, in +deepest dejection, as he sat on the pile of baggage +that now looked so useless and needless. “I just +believe some of the scamps I saw loafing around +there in that store stole the money out of the letter. +See here; it was sealed with that confounded +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +new-fangled ‘mucilage’; gumstickum I call it. +Anybody could feel those five bank-notes inside of +the letter, and anybody could steam it open, take +out the money, and seal it up again. We have +been robbed.”</p> +<p>“Let’s go and see the heads of the house there +at Osterhaus & Wickham’s. They will see us +righted,” cried Sandy, indignantly. “I won’t +stand it, for one.”</p> +<p>“No use,” groaned Charlie. “We saw Mr. Osterhaus. +He was very sorry––oh, yes!––awfully +sorry; but he didn’t know us, and he had +no responsibility for the letters that came to his +place. It was only an accommodation to people +that he took them in his care, anyhow. Oh, it’s no +use talking! Here we are, stranded in a strange +place, knowing no living soul in the whole town +but good old Younkins, and nobody knows where +he is. He couldn’t lend us the money, even +if we were mean enough to ask him. Good old +Younkins!”</p> +<p>“Younkins!” cried Sandy, starting to his feet. +“He will give us good advice. He has got a great +head, has Younkins. I’ll go and ask him what to +do. Bless me! There he is now!” and as he +spoke, the familiar slouching figure of their neighbor +came around the corner of a warehouse on the +levee.</p> +<p>“Why don’t yer go aboard, boys? The boat +leaves at noon, and it’s past twelve now. I just +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span> +thought I’d come down and say good-by-like, for +I’m powerful sorry to have ye go.”</p> +<p>The boys explained to the astonished and +grieved Younkins how they had been wrecked, +as it were, almost in sight of the home port. The +good man nodded his head gravely, as he listened, +softly jingled the few gold coins in his trousers +pocket, and said: “Well, boys, this is the wust +scald I ever did see. If I wasn’t so dreadful hard +up, I’d give ye what I’ve got.”</p> +<p>“That’s not to be thought of, Mr. Younkins,” +said Charlie, with dignity and gratitude, “for we +can’t think of borrowing money to get home with. +It would be better to wait until we can write home +for more. We might earn enough to pay our +board.” And Charlie, with a sigh, looked around +at the unsympathetic and hurrying throng.</p> +<p>“You’ve got baggage as security for your passage +to St. Louis. Go aboard and tell the clerk +how you are fixed. Your pa said as how you +would be all right when you got to St. Louis. Go +and ’brace’ the clerk.”</p> +<p>This was a new idea to the boys. They had +never heard of such a thing. Who would dare +to ask such a great favor? The fare from Leavenworth +to St. Louis was twelve dollars each. +They had known all about that. And they knew, +too, that the price included their meals on the way +down.</p> +<p>“I’ll go brace the clerk,” said Sandy, stoutly; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span> +and before the others could put in a word, he was +gone.</p> +<p>The clerk was a handsome, stylish-looking man, +with a good-natured countenance that reassured +the timid boy at once. Mustering up his waning +courage, Sandy stated the case to him, telling him +that that pile of trunks and guns on the levee was +theirs, and that they would leave them on board +when they got to St. Louis until they had found +their uncle and secured the money for their fares.</p> +<p>The handsome clerk looked sharply at the lad +while he was telling his story. “You’ve got an +honest face, my little man. I’ll trust you. Bring +aboard your baggage. People spar their way on +the river every day in the year; you needn’t be +ashamed of it. Accidents will happen, you know.” +And the busy clerk turned away to another customer.</p> +<p>With a light heart Sandy ran ashore. His waiting +and anxiously watching comrades saw by his +face that he had been successful, before he spoke.</p> +<p>“That’s all fixed,” he cried, blithely.</p> +<p>“Bully boy!” said Younkins, admiringly.</p> +<p>“Car’ yer baggage aboard, boss?” asked the +lively young darky.</p> +<p>“Take it along,” said Sandy, with a lordly air. +They shook hands with Younkins once more, this +time with more fervor than ever. Then the three +lads filed on board the steamboat. The gang-plank +was hauled in, put out again for the last +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +tardy passenger, once more taken aboard, and then +the stanch steamer “New Lucy” was on her way +down the turbid Missouri.</p> +<p>“Oh, Sandy,” whispered Charlie, “you gave that +darky almost the last cent we had for bringing +our baggage on board. We ought to have lugged +it aboard ourselves.”</p> +<p>“Lugged it aboard ourselves? And all these +people that we are going to be passengers with for +the next four or five days watching us while we +did a roustabout’s work? Not much. We’ve a +quarter left.”</p> +<p>Charlie was silent. The great stern-wheel of +the “New Lucy” revolved with a dashing and a +churning sound. The yellow banks of the Missouri +sped by them. The sacred soil of Kansas +slid past as in a swiftly moving panorama. One +home was hourly growing nearer, while another +was fading away there into the golden autumnal +distance.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIX_DOWN_THE_BIG_MUDDY' id='CHAPTER_XIX_DOWN_THE_BIG_MUDDY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> +<h3>DOWN THE BIG MUDDY.</h3> +</div> +<p>It is more than six hundred miles from Leavenworth +to St. Louis by the river. And as the river +is crooked exceedingly, a steamboat travelling +that route points her bow at every point of the +compass, north, south, east, and west, before the +voyage is finished. The boys were impatient to +reach home, to be back in dear old Dixon, to see +the mother and the fireside once more. But they +knew that days must pass before they could reach +St. Louis. The three lads settled themselves comfortably +in the narrow limits of their little stateroom; +for they found that their passage included +quarters really more luxurious than they had been +accustomed to in their Kansas log-cabin.</p> +<p>“Not much army blanket and buffalo-robe about +this,” whispered Oscar, pressing his toil-stained +hand on the nice white spread of his berth. “Say, +wouldn’t Younkins allow that this was rather +comfortable-like, if he was to see it and compare it +with his deerskin coverlet that he is so proud of?”</p> +<p>“Well, Younkins’s deerskin coverlet is paid for, +and this isn’t,” said Charlie, grimly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span></p> +<p>But the light-hearted younger boys borrowed +no trouble on that score. As Sandy said, laughingly, +they were all fixed for the trip to St. Louis, +and what was the use of fretting about the passage +money until the time came to pay it?</p> +<p>When the lads, having exchanged their flannel +shirts for white cotton ones, saved up for this +occasion, came out from their room, they saw two +long tables covered with snowy cloths set for the +whole length of the big saloon. They had scanned +the list of meal hours hanging in their stateroom, +and were very well satisfied to find that there +were three meals served each day. It was nearly +time for the two o’clock dinner, and the colored +servants were making ready the tables. The boat +was crowded with passengers, and it looked as if +some of them would be obliged to wait for the +“second table.” On board of a steamboat, especially +in those days of long voyages, the matter of +getting early to the table and having a good seat +was of great concern to the passengers. Men +stood around, lining the walls of the saloon and +regarding with hungry expectation the movements +of the waiters who were making ready the tables. +When the chairs were placed, every man laid his +hand on the top of the seat nearest him, prepared, +as one of the boys privately expressed it, to “make +a grab.”</p> +<p>“Well, if we don’t make a grab, too, we shall +get left,” whispered Sandy, and the boys bashfully +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span> +filed down the saloon and stood ready to take their +seats when the gong should sound.</p> +<p>To eyes unused to the profuseness of living that +then prevailed on the best class of Western steamboats, +the display on the dining-tables of the “New +Lucy” was very grand indeed. The waiters, all +their movements regulated by something like military +discipline, filed in and out bearing handsome +dishes for the decoration of the board.</p> +<p>“Just look at those gorgeous flowers! Red, +white, blue, purple, yellow! My! aren’t they +fine?” said Sandy, under his breath.</p> +<p>Oscar giggled. “They are artificial, Sandy. +How awfully green you are!”</p> +<p>Sandy stoutly maintained that they were real +flowers. He could smell them. But when one +of the waiters, having accidentally overturned one +of the vases and knocked a flaming bouquet on +the carpeted floor of the cabin, snatched it up and +dusted it with his big black hand, Sandy gave in, +and murmured, “Tis true; they’re false.”</p> +<p>But the boys’ eyes fairly stood out with wonder +and admiration when a procession of colored men +came out of the pantry, bearing a grand array of +ornamental dishes. Pineapples, bananas, great baskets +of fancy cakes, and other dainties attracted +their wonder-stricken gaze. But most of all, numerous +pyramids of macaroons, two or three feet +high, with silky veils of spun sugar falling down +from summit to base, fascinated their attention. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +They had never seen the like at a public table; +and the generous board of the “New Lucy” fairly +groaned with good things when the gong somewhat +superfluously announced to the waiting +throng that dinner was served.</p> +<p>“No plates, knives, or forks,” said Sandy, as, +amid a great clatter and rush, everybody sat down +to the table. Just then a long procession of colored +waiters emerged from the pantry, the foremost man +carrying a pile of plates, and after him came another +with a basket of knives, after him another with a +basket of forks, then another with spoons, and so on, +each man carrying a supply of some one article for +the table. With the same military precision that +had marked all their movements, six black hands +were stretched at the same instant over the shoulders +of the sitting passengers, and six articles +were noiselessly dropped on the table; then, with +a similar motion, the six black hands went back to +their respective owners, as the procession moved +along behind the guests, the white-sleeved arms +and black hands waving in the air and keeping +exact time as the procession moved around the +table.</p> +<p>“Looks like a white-legged centipede,” muttered +Sandy, under his breath. But more evolutions +were coming. These preliminaries having been +finished, the solemn procession went back to the +kitchen regions, and presently came forth again, +bearing a glittering array of shining metal covered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +dishes. At the tap of the pompous head-waiter’s +bell, every man stood at “present arms,” as Oscar +said. Then, at another tap, each dish was projected +over the white cloth to the spot for which it was +designed, and held an inch or two above the table. +Another tap, and every dish dropped into its place +with a sound as of one soft blow. The pompous +head-waiter struck his bell again, and every dish-cover +was touched by a black hand. One more +jingle, and, with magical swiftness and deftness, +each dish-cover was lifted, and a delightful perfume +of savory viands gushed forth amidst the +half-suppressed “Ahs” of the assembled and hungry +diners. Then the procession of dark-skinned +waiters, bearing the dish-covers, filed back to the +pantry, and the real business of the day began. +This was the way that dinners were served on all +the first-rate steamboats on Western rivers in those +days.</p> +<p>To hungry, hearty boys, used of late to the +rough fare of the frontier, and just from a hard +trip in an ox-wagon, with very short rations indeed, +this profusion of good things was a real delight. +Sandy’s mouth watered, but he gently sighed to +himself, “’Most takes away my appetite.” The +polite, even servile, waiters pressed the lads with +the best of everything on the generous board; +and Sandy’s cup of happiness was full when a +jolly darky, his ebony face shining with good-nature, +brought him some frosted cake, charlotte +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +russe, and spun sugar and macaroons from one of +the shattered pyramids.</p> +<p>“D’ye s’pose they break those up every day?” +whispered Sandy to the more dignified Charlie.</p> +<p>“Suttinly, suh,” replied the colored man, overhearing +the question; “suttinly, suh. Dis yere +boat is de fastest and de finest on de Big Muddy, +young gent; an’ dere’s nuttin’ in dis yere worl’ +that the ‘New Lucy’ doan have on her table; an’ +doan yer fergit it, young mas’r,” he added, with +respectful pride in his voice.</p> +<p>“My! what a tuck-out! I’ve ate and ate until +I’m fairly fit to bust,” said Sandy, as the three +boys, their dinner over, sauntered out into the +open air and beheld the banks of the river swiftly +slipping by as they glided down the stream.</p> +<p>Just then, glancing around, his eye caught the +amused smile of a tall and lovely lady who was +standing near by, chatting with two or three rather +superior-looking young people whom the lad had +first noticed when the question of having the baggage +brought on board at Leavenworth was under +discussion. Sandy’s brown cheek flushed; but the +pretty lady, extending her hand, said: “Pardon +my smiling, my boy; but I have a dear lad at +home in Baltimore who always says just that after +his Christmas dinner, and sometimes on other +occasions, perhaps; and his name is Sandy, too. +I think I heard your brother call you Sandy? +This is your brother, is it not?” And the lady +turned towards Charlie. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span></p> +<p>The lad explained the relationship of the little +party, and the lady from Baltimore introduced the +members of her party. They had been far up the +river to Fort Benton, where they had spent some +weeks with friends who were in the military garrison +at that post. The young men, of whom +there were three in the party, had been out hunting +for buffalo, elk, and other big game. Had the +boys ever killed any buffalo? The pleasant-faced +young gentleman who asked the question had +noticed that they had a full supply of guns when +they came aboard at Leavenworth.</p> +<p>Yes, they had killed buffalo; at least, Sandy had; +and the youngster’s exploit on the bluff of the +Republican Fork was glowingly narrated by the +generous and manly Charlie. This story broke +the ice with the newly met voyagers and, before +the gong sounded for supper, the Whittier boys, +as they still called themselves, were quite as well +acquainted with the party from Baltimore, as they +thought, as they would have been if they had +been neighbors and friends on the banks of the +Republican.</p> +<p>The boys looked in at the supper-table. They +only looked; for although the short autumnal +afternoon had fled swiftly by while they were chatting +with their new friends or exploring the steamboat, +they felt that they could not possibly take +another repast so soon after their first real “tuck-out” +on the “New Lucy.” The overloaded table, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +shining with handsome glass and china and decked +with fancy cakes, preserves, and sweetmeats, had +no present attractions for the boys. “It’s just like +after Thanksgiving dinner,” said Oscar. “Only +we are far from home,” he added, rather soberly. +And when the lads crawled into their bunks, as +Sandy insisted upon calling their berths, it would +not surprise one if “thoughts of home and sighs +disturbed the sleeper’s long-drawn breath.”</p> +<p>Time and again, in the night-watches, the +steamer stopped at some landing by the river-side. +Now it would be a mere wood-pile, and the boat +would be moored to a cottonwood tree that overhung +the stream. Torches of light-wood burning +in iron frames at the end of a staff stuck into the +ground or lashed to the steamer rail shed a wild, +weird glare on the hurrying scene as the roustabouts, +or deck-hands, nimbly lugged the wood on +board, or carried the cargo ashore, singing plaintive +melodies as they worked. Then again, the steamer +would be made fast to a wharf-boat by some small +town, or to the levee of a larger landing-place, +and goods went ashore, passengers flitted on and +off, baggage was transferred, the gang-plank was +hauled in with prodigious clatter, the engineer’s +bell tinkled, and, with a great snort from her +engines, the “New Lucy” resumed her way down +the river. Few passengers but those who were to +go ashore could be seen on the upper deck viewing +the strange sights of making a night-landing. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span> +And through the whole racket and din, three lads +slept the sleep of the young and the innocent in +room Number 56. “Just the number of the year +with the eighteen knocked off,” Sandy had said +when they were assigned to it.</p> +<p>When the boys had asked in Leavenworth how +long the trip to St. Louis would be, they were told, +“Three or four days, if the water holds.” This +they thought rather vague information, and they +had only a dim idea of what the man meant by the +water holding. They soon learned. The season +had been dry for the time of year. Although it +was now November, little or no autumnal rains +had fallen. Passengers from Fort Benton said +that the lands on the Upper Missouri were parched +for want of water, and the sluggish currents of the +Big Muddy were “as slow as cold molasses,” as +one of the deck-hands said to Sandy, when he was +peering about the lower deck of the steamboat. +It began to look as if the water would not hold.</p> +<p>On the second afternoon out of Leavenworth, +as the “New Lucy” was gallantly sweeping around +Prairie Bend, where any boat going down stream +is headed almost due north, the turn in the river +revealed no less than four other steamers hard and +fast on the shoals that now plentifully appeared +above the surface of the yellow water. Cautiously +feeling her way along through these treacherous +bars and sands, the “New Lucy,” with slackened +speed, moved bravely down upon the stranded fleet. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +Anxious passengers clustered on the forward part +of the steamer, watching the course of events. +With many a cough and many a sigh, the boat +swung to the right or left, obedient to her helm, +the cry of the man heaving the lead for soundings +telling them how fast the water shoaled or deepened +as they moved down stream.</p> +<p>“We are bound to get aground,” said Oscar, as +he scanned the wide river, apparently almost bare +to its bed. “I suppose there is a channel, and +I suppose that pilot up there in the pilot-house +knows where it is, but I don’t see any.” Just +then the water before them suddenly shoaled, there +was a soft, grating sound, a thud, and the boat +stopped, hard and fast aground. The “New Lucy” +had joined the fleet of belated steamers on the +shoals of Prairie Bend.</p> +<p>The order was given for all passengers to go aft; +and while the lads were wondering what they were +so peremptorily sent astern for, they saw two tall +spars that had been carried upright at the bow of +the boat rigged into the shape of a V upside down, +and set on either side of the craft, the lower ends +resting on the sand-bar each side of her. A big +block and tackle were rigged at the point where +the spars crossed each other over the bow of the +boat, and from these a stout cable was made fast +to the steamer’s “nose,” as the boys heard somebody +call the extreme point of the bow.</p> +<p>“They are actually going to hoist this boat over +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +the sand-bar,” said Sandy, excitedly, as they viewed +these preparations from the rear of the boat.</p> +<p>“That is exactly what they are going to do,” +said the pleasant-faced young man from Baltimore. +“Now, then!” he added, with the air of one encouraging +another, as the crew, laying hold of the +tackle, and singing with a queer, jerky way, began +to hoist. This would not avail. The nose of the +boat was jammed deep into the sand, and so the +cable was led back to a windlass, around which it +was carried. Then, the windlass being worked by +steam, the hull of the steamer rose very slightly, +and the bottom of the bow was released from the +river-bottom. The pilot rang his bell, the engine +puffed and clattered, and the boat crept ahead for +a few feet, and then came to rest again. That was +all that could be done until the spars were reset +further forward or deep water was reached. It +was discouraging, for with all their pulling and +hauling, that had lasted for more than an hour, +they had made only four or five feet of headway.</p> +<p>“At the rate of five feet an hour, how long will +it take us to spar our way down to St. Louis?” +asked Charlie, quizzically.</p> +<p>“Oh, Charlie,” cried Sandy, “I know now why +the clerk said that there were plenty of fellows +who had to spar their way on the river. It is hard +work to pull this steamer over the sand-bars and +shoals, and when a man is busted and has to work +his way along, he’s like a steamboat in a fix, like +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span> +this one is. See? That’s the reason why they +say he is sparring his way, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“You are quite correct, youngster,” said the +young man from Baltimore, regarding Sandy’s +bright face with pleasure. “Correct you are. But +I never knew what the slang meant until I came +out here. And, for that matter, I don’t know that +I ever heard the slang before. But it is the jargon +of the river men.”</p> +<p>By this time, even sparring was of very little +use, for the spars only sank deep and deeper into +the soft river-bottom, and there was no chance to +raise the bow of the boat from its oozy bed. The +case for the present was hopeless; but the crew +were kept constantly busy until nightfall, pulling +and hauling. Some were sent ashore in a skiff, +with a big hawser, which was made fast to a tree, +and then all the power of the boat, men and steam, +was put upon it to twist her nose off from the +shoal into which it was stuck. All sorts of devices +were resorted to, and a small gain was made once +in a while; but it looked very much as if the calculation +of Charlie, five feet in an hour, was too +liberal an allowance for the progress towards St. +Louis.</p> +<p>Just then, from the boat furthest down the river +rose a cloud of steam, and the astonished lads +heard a most extraordinary sound like that of a +gigantic organ. More or less wheezy, but still +easily to be understood, the well-known notes of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +“Oh, Susannah!” came floating up the river to +them. Everybody paused to listen, even the tired +and tugging roustabouts smiling at the unwonted +music.</p> +<p>“Is it really music?” asked Oscar, whose artistic +ear was somewhat offended by this strange roar +of sounds. The young man from Baltimore assured +him that this was called music; the music of a +steam-organ or calliope, then a new invention on +the Western rivers. He explained that it was an +instrument made of a series of steam-whistles so +arranged that a man, sitting where he could handle +them all very rapidly, could play a tune on them. +The player had only to know the key to which +each whistle was pitched, and, with a simple arrangement +of notes before him, he could make a +gigantic melody that could be heard for many +miles away.</p> +<p>“You are a musician, are you not?” asked the +young man from Baltimore. “Didn’t I hear you +playing a violin in your room last night? Or was +it one of your brothers?”</p> +<p>Oscar, having blushingly acknowledged that he +was playing his violin for the benefit of his cousins, +as he explained, his new-found acquaintance said, +“I play the flute a little, and we might try some +pieces together some time, if you are willing.”</p> +<p>As they were making ready for bed that night, +the pleasant-faced young man from Baltimore, who +had been playing whist with his mother and sister, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span> +and the “military man,” as the boys had privately +named one of the party, came to their door with +his flute. The two musicians were fast friends at +once. Flute and violin made delicious harmony, +in the midst of which Sandy, who had slipped into +his bunk, drifted off into the land of dreams with +confused notions of a giant band somewhere up +in the sky playing “Oh, Susannah!” “Love’s Last +Greeting,” and “How Can I Leave Thee?” with +occasional suggestions of the “Song of the Kansas +Emigrants.”</p> +<p>Another morning came on, cold, damp, and raw. +The sky was overcast and there were signs of rain. +“There’s been rain to the nor’rard,” said Captain +Bulger, meditatively. Now Captain Bulger was +the skipper of the “New Lucy,” and when he +said those oracular words, they were reported +about the steamboat, to the great comfort of all on +board. Still the five boats stuck on the shoals; +their crews were still hard at work at all the devices +that could be thought of for their liberation. +The “War Eagle”––for they had found out the +name of the musical steamer far down stream––enlivened +the tedious day with her occasional strains +of martial and popular music, if the steam-organ +could be called musical.</p> +<p>In the afternoon, Oscar and the amiable young +man from Baltimore shut themselves in their stateroom +and played the flute and violin. The lovely +lady who had made Sandy’s acquaintance early in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +the voyage asked him if he could make one at a +game of whist. Sandy replied that he could play +“a very little.” The thought of playing cards +here on a steamboat, in public, as he said to himself, +was rather frightful. He was not sure if +his mother would like to have him do that. He +looked uneasily around to see what Charlie would +say about it. But Charlie was nowhere in sight. +He was wandering around, like an uneasy ghost, +watching for signs of the rising of the river, now +confidently predicted by the knowing ones among +the passengers.</p> +<p>“My boys all play whist,” said the lady, kindly; +“but if you do not like to play, I will not urge +you. We lack one of making up a party.”</p> +<p>Sandy had been told that he was an uncommonly +good player for one so young. He liked the game; +there would be no stakes, of course. With his +ready habit of making up his mind, he brightly +said, “I’ll play if you like, but you must know that +I am only a youngster and not a first-rate player.” +So they sat down, the lovely lady from Baltimore +being Sandy’s partner, and the military gentleman +and the young daughter of the lady from Baltimore +being their opponents. Sandy had great +good luck. The very best cards fell to him continually, +and he thought he had never played so +well. He caught occasional strains of music from +room Number 56, and he was glad that Oscar was +enjoying himself. From time to time the lovely +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +lady who was his partner smiled approvingly at +him, and once in a while, while the cards were +being dealt, she said, “How divinely those dear +boys are playing!”</p> +<p>The afternoon sped on delightfully, and Sandy’s +spirits rose. He thought it would be fine if the +“New Lucy” should stay stuck on a sand-bar for +days and days, and he should have such a good +game of whist, with the lovely lady from Baltimore +for a partner. But the military gentleman grew +tired. His luck was very poor, and when the servants +began to rattle dishes on the supper-table, +he suggested that it would be just as well perhaps +if they did not play too much now; they would +enjoy the game better later on. They agreed to +stop with the next game.</p> +<p>When they had first taken their places at the +card-table, the military gentleman had asked Sandy +if he had any cards, and when he replied that he +had none, the military gentleman, with a very +lordly air, sent one of the cabin waiters to the bar +for a pack of cards. Now that they were through +with the game, Sandy supposed that the military +gentleman would put the cards into his pocket and +pay for them. Instead of that he said, “Now, my +little man, we will saw off to see who shall pay +for the cards.”</p> +<p>“Saw off?” asked Sandy, faintly, with a dim +notion of what was meant.</p> +<p>“Yes, my lad,” said the military gentleman. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span> +“We will play one hand of Old Sledge to see who +shall pay for the cards and keep them.”</p> +<p>With a sinking heart, but with a brave face, +Sandy took up the cards dealt to him and began +to play. It was soon over. Sandy won one point +in the hand; the military gentleman had the other +three.</p> +<p>“Take care of your cards, my son,” said the +military gentleman; “we may want them again. +They charge the extravagant price of six bits for +them on this boat, and these will last us to St. +Louis.”</p> +<p>Six bits! Seventy-five cents! And poor Sandy +had only twenty-five cents in his pocket. That +silver quarter represented the entire capital of the +Boy Settlers from Kansas. Looking up, he saw +Charlie regarding him with reproachful eyes from +a corner of the saloon. With great carefulness, he +gathered up his cards and rose, revolving in his +mind the awful problem of paying for seventy-five +cents’ worth of cards with twenty-five cents.</p> +<p>“Well, you’ve got yourself into a nice scrape,” +tragically whispered Charlie, in his ear, as soon as +the two boys were out of earshot of the others. +“What are you going to do now? You can spar +your way down to St. Louis, but you can’t spar +your way with that barkeeper for a pack of cards.”</p> +<p>“Let me alone, Charlie,” said Sandy, testily. +“You haven’t got to pay for these cards. I’ll +manage it somehow. Don’t you worry yourself +the least bit.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span></p> +<p>“Serves you right for gambling. What would +mother say if she knew it? If you hadn’t been so +ready to show off your whist-playing before these +strangers, you wouldn’t have got into such a box.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t gamble,” replied Sandy, hotly. “It +isn’t gambling to play a hand to see who shall pay +for the cards. All men do that. I have seen +daddy roll a game of tenpins to see who should +pay for the alley.”</p> +<p>“I don’t care for that. It is gambling to play +for the leastest thing as a stake. Nice fellow you +are, sitting down to play a hand of seven-up for +the price of a pack of cards! Six bits at that!”</p> +<p>“A nice brotherly brother you are to nag me +about those confounded cards, instead of helping a +fellow out when he is down on his luck.”</p> +<p>Charlie, a little conscience-stricken, held his +peace, while Sandy broke away from him, and +rushed out into the chilly air of the after-deck. +There was no sympathy in the dark and murky +river, none in the forlorn shore, where rows of +straggling cottonwoods leaned over and swept +their muddy arms in the muddy water. Looking +around for a ray of hope, a bright idea struck him. +He could but try one chance. The bar of the “New +Lucy” was a very respectable-looking affair, as bars +go. It opened into the saloon cabin of the steamer +on its inner side, but in the rear was a small window +where the deck passengers sneaked up, from time +to time, and bought whatever they wanted, and then +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span> +quietly slipped away again, unseen by the more +“high-toned” passengers in the cabin. Summoning +all his courage and assurance, the boy stepped +briskly to this outside opening, and, leaning his +arms jauntily on the window-ledge, said, “See +here, cap, I owe you for a pack of cards.”</p> +<p>“Yep,” replied the barkeeper, holding a bottle +between his eye and the light, and measuring its +contents.</p> +<p>This was not encouraging. Sandy, with a little +effort, went on: “You see we fellows, three of us, +are sparring our way down to St. Louis. We have +got trusted for our passage. We’ve friends in St. +Louis, and when we get there we shall be in funds. +Our luggage is in pawn for our passage money. +When we come down to get our luggage, I will +pay you the six bits I owe you for the cards. Is +that all right?”</p> +<p>“Yep,” said the barkeeper, and he set the bottle +down. As the lad went away from the window, +with a great load lifted from his heart, the barkeeper +put his head out of the opening, looked +after him, smiled, and said, “That boy’ll do.”</p> +<p>When Sandy joined his brother, who was wistfully +watching for him, he said, a little less boastfully +than might have been expected of him, +“That’s all right, Charlie. The barkeeper says +he will trust me until we get to St. Louis and +come aboard to get the luggage. He’s a good +fellow, even if he did say ‘yep’ instead of ‘yes’ +when I asked him.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span></p> +<p>In reply to Charlie’s eager questions, Sandy related +all that had happened, and Charlie, with +secret admiration for his small brother’s knack of +“cheeking it through,” as he expressed it, forbore +any further remarks.</p> +<p>“I do believe the water is really rising!” exclaimed +the irrepressible youngster, who, now that +his latest trouble was fairly over, was already +thinking of something else. “Look at that log. +When I came out here just after breakfast, this +morning, it was high and dry on that shoal. +Now one end of it is afloat. See it bob up and +down?”</p> +<p>Full of the good news, the lads went hurriedly +forward to find Oscar, who, with his friend from +Baltimore, was regarding the darkening scene from +the other part of the boat.</p> +<p>“She’s moving!” excitedly cried Oscar, pointing +his finger at the “War Eagle”; and, as he spoke, +that steamer slid slowly off the sand-bar, and with +her steam-organ playing triumphantly “Oh, aren’t +you glad you’re out of the Wilderness!” a well-known +air in those days, she steamed steadily down +stream. From all the other boats, still stranded +though they were, loud cheers greeted the first to +be released from the long embargo. Presently +another, the “Thomas H. Benton,” slid off, and +churning the water with her wheels like a mad +thing, took her way down the river. All these +boats were flat-bottomed and, as the saying was, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span> +“could go anywhere if the ground was a little +damp.” A rise of a very few inches of water was +sufficient to float any one of them. And, in the +course of a half-hour, the “New Lucy,” to the +great joy of her passengers, with one more hoist on +her forward spars, was once more in motion, and +she too went gayly steaming down the river, her +less fortunate companions who were still aground +cheering her as she glided along the tortuous +channel.</p> +<p>“Well, that was worth waiting some day or two +to see,” said Oscar, drawing a long breath. “Just +listen to that snorting calliope, playing ‘Home, +Sweet Home’ as they go prancing down the Big +Muddy. I shall never forget her playing that +‘Out of the Wilderness’ as she tore out of those +shoals. It’s a pretty good tune, after all, and the +steam-organ is not so bad now that you hear it at +a distance.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XX_STRANDED_NEAR_HOME' id='CHAPTER_XX_STRANDED_NEAR_HOME'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2> +<h3>STRANDED NEAR HOME.</h3> +</div> +<p>It was after dark, on a Saturday evening, when +the “New Lucy” landed her passengers at the +levee, St. Louis. They should have been in the +city several hours earlier, and they had expected +to arrive by daylight. The lads marvelled much +at the sight of the muddy waters of the Missouri +running into the pure currents of the Mississippi, +twenty miles above St. Louis, the two streams +joining but not mingling, the yellow streak of the +Big Muddy remaining separate and distinct from +the flow of the Mississippi for a long distance below +the joining of the two. They had also found +new enjoyment in the sight of the great, many-storied +steamboats with which the view was now +diversified as they drew nearer the beautiful city +which had so long been the object of their hopes +and longings. They could not help thinking, as +they looked at the crowded levee, solid buildings, +and slender church spires, that all this was a +strange contrast to the lonely prairie and wide, +trackless spaces of their old home on the banks of +the distant Kansas stream. The Republican Fork +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +seemed to them like a far-off dream, it was so very +distant to them now.</p> +<p>“Where are you young fellows going to stop in +St. Louis?” asked the pleasant-faced young man +from Baltimore.</p> +<p>The lads had scarcely thought of that, and here +was the city, the strange city in which they knew +nobody, in full sight. They exchanged looks of +dismay, Sandy’s face wearing an odd look of +amusement and apprehension mixed. Charlie +timidly asked what hotels were the best. The +young man from Baltimore named two or three +which he said were “first-class,” and Charlie +thought to himself that they must avoid those. +They had no money to pay for their lodging, no +baggage as security for their payment.</p> +<p>As soon as they could get away by themselves, +they held a council to determine what was to be +done. They had the business address of their +uncle, Oscar Bryant, of the firm of Bryant, Wilder +& Co., wholesale dealers in agricultural implements, +Front Street. But they knew enough +about city life to know that it would be hopeless +to look for him in his store at night. It would be +nearly nine o’clock before they could reach any +hotel. What was to be done? Charlie was certain +that no hotel clerk would be willing to give +them board and lodging, penniless wanderers as +they were, with nothing but one small valise to +answer as luggage for the party. They could +have no money until they found their uncle. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span></p> +<p>Before they could make up their minds what to +do, or which way to turn, the boat had made her +landing and was blowing off steam at the levee. +The crowds of passengers, glad to escape from the +narrow limits of the steamer, were hurrying ashore. +The three homeless and houseless lads were carried +resistlessly along with the crowd. Charlie +regretted that they had not asked if they could +stay on the boat until Sunday morning. But +Sandy and Oscar both scouted such a confession +of their poverty. “Besides,” said Sandy, “it is +not likely that they would keep any passengers on +board here at the levee.”</p> +<p>“Ride up? Free ’bus to the Planters’!” cried +one of the runners on the levee, and before the +other two lads could collect their thoughts, the +energetic Sandy had drawn them into the omnibus, +and they were on their way to an uptown hotel. +When the driver had asked where their baggage +was, Sandy, who was ready to take command of +things, had airily answered that they would have +it sent up from the steamer. There were other +passengers in the ’bus, and Charlie, anxious and +distressed, had no chance to remonstrate; they were +soon rattling and grinding over the pavements +of St. Louis. The novelty of the ride and the +glitter of the brightly lighted shops in which +crowds of people were doing their Saturday-night +buying, diverted their attention for a time. Then +the omnibus backed up before a handsome hotel, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span> +and numerous colored men came hurrying down +the steps of the grand entrance to wait upon the +new arrivals. With much ceremony and obsequiousness, +the three young travellers were ushered +into the office, where they wrote their names in +a big book, and were escorted to a large and elegant +room, in which were ample, even luxurious, +sleeping accommodations for the trio.</p> +<p>The colored porter assiduously brushed off the +clothing of the lads. “Baggage?” the clerk at +the desk had asked when they registered. “Baggage, +sah?” the waiter asked again, as he dusted +briskly the jackets of the three guests. Neither +Charlie nor Oscar had the heart to make reply +to this very natural question. It was Sandy who +said: “We will not have our baggage up from +the steamer to-night. We are going right on up +north.”</p> +<p>But when Sandy tipped the expectant waiter +with the long-treasured silver quarter of a dollar, +Charlie fairly groaned, and sinking into a chair as +the door closed, said, “Our last quarter! Great +Scott, Sandy! are you crazy?”</p> +<p>Sandy, seeing that there was no help for it, +put on a bold front, and insisted that they must +keep up appearances to the last. He would hunt +up Uncle Oscar’s place of abode in the city directory +after supper, and bright and early Sunday +morning he would go and see him. They would +be all right then. What use was that confounded +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span> +old quarter, anyhow? They might as well stand +well with the waiter. He might be useful to them. +Twenty-five cents would not pay their hotel bill; +it would not buy anything they needed in St. +Louis. The darky might as well have it.</p> +<p>“And this is one of the swellest and most expensive +hotels in the city,” cried Charlie, eyeing +the costly furniture and fittings of the room in +which they were lodged. “I just think that we +are travelling under false pretences, putting up at +an expensive house like this without a cent in our +pockets. Not one cent! What will you do, you +cheeky boy, if they ask us for our board in advance? +I have heard that they always do that +with travellers who have no baggage.”</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t know what we will do,” said +Sandy, doggedly. “Suppose we wait until they +ask us. There’ll be time enough to decide when +we are dunned for our bill. I suppose the honestest +thing would be to own right up and tell the +whole truth. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Lots +of people have to do that sort of thing when they +get into a tight place.”</p> +<p>“But I’m really afraid, Sandy, that they won’t +believe us,” said the practical Oscar. “The world +is full of swindlers as well as of honest fellows. +They might put us out as adventurers.”</p> +<p>“We are not adventurers!” cried Sandy, indignantly. +“We are gentlemen when we are at home, +able to pay our debts. We are overtaken by an +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span> +accident,” he added, chuckling to himself. “Distressed +gentlemen, don’t you see?”</p> +<p>“But we might have gone to a cheaper place,” +moaned Charlie. “Here we are in the highest-priced +hotel in St. Louis. I know it, for I heard +that Baltimore chap say so. We might have put +up at some third-rate house, anyhow.”</p> +<p>“But it is the third-rate house that asks you for +your baggage, and makes you pay in advance if +you don’t have any,” cried Sandy, triumphantly. +“I don’t believe that a high-toned hotel like this +duns people in advance for their board, especially +if it is a casual traveller, such as we are. Anyhow, +they haven’t dunned us yet, and when they +do, I’ll engage to see the party through, Master +Charlie; so you set your mind at rest.” As for +Charlie, he insisted that he would keep out of the +sight of the hotel clerk, until relief came in the +shape of money to pay their bill.</p> +<p>Oscar, who had been reading attentively a printed +card tacked to the door of the room, broke in with +the declaration that he was hungry, and that supper +was served until ten o’clock at night. The +others might talk all night, for all he cared; he +intended to have some supper. There was no use +arguing about the chances of being dunned for +their board; the best thing he could think of was +to have some board before he was asked to pay for +it. And he read out the list of hours for dinner, +breakfast, and supper from the card. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span></p> +<p>“There is merit in your suggestion,” said Charlie, +with a grim smile. “The dead-broke Boy +Settlers from the roaring Republican Fork will +descend to the banquet-hall.” Charlie was recovering +his spirits under Oscar’s cool and unconcerned +advice to have board before being in the way of +paying for it.</p> +<p>After supper, the lads, feeling more cheerful +than before, sauntered up to the clerk’s desk, and +inspected the directory of the city. They found +their uncle’s name and address, and it gave them +a gleam of pleasure to see his well-remembered +business card printed on the page opposite. Under +the street address was printed Mr. Bryant’s place +of residence, thus: “h. at Hyde Park.”</p> +<p>“Where’s that?” asked Sandy, confidently, of +the clerk.</p> +<p>“Oh! that’s out of the city a few miles. You +can ride out there in the stage. Only costs you a +quarter.”</p> +<p>Only a quarter! And the last quarter had gone +to the colored boy with the whisk-broom.</p> +<p>“Here’s a go!” said Sandy, for once a little cast +down. “We might walk it,” Oscar whispered, as +they moved away from the desk. But to this +Charlie, asserting the authority of an elder brother, +steadfastly objected. He knew his Uncle Oscar +better than the younger boys did. He remembered +that he was a very precise and dignified elderly +gentleman. He would be scandalized greatly if +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span> +his three wandering nephews should come tramping +out to his handsome villa on a Sunday, like +three vagabonds, to borrow money enough to get +home to Dixon with. No; that was not to be +thought of. Charlie said he would pawn his watch +on Monday morning; he would walk the streets to +keep out of the way of the much-dreaded hotel +clerk; but, as for trudging out to his Uncle Oscar’s +on Sunday, he would not do it, nor should either +of the others stir a step. So they went to bed, and +slept as comfortably in their luxurious apartment +as if they had never known anything less handsome, +and had money in plenty to pay all demands +at sight.</p> +<p>It was a cloudy and chilly November Sunday to +which the boys awoke next day. The air was +piercingly raw, and the city looked dust-colored +and cheerless under the cold, gray sky. Breaking +their fast (Charlie keeping one eye on the hotel +office), they sallied forth to see the city. They +saw it all over, from one end to the other. They +walked and walked, and then went back to the +hotel; and after dinner, walked and walked again. +They hunted up their uncle’s store in one of the +deserted business streets of the city; and they +gazed at its exterior with a curious feeling of +relief. There was the sign on the prosperous-looking +outside of the building,––“Oscar G. Bryant +& Co., Agricultural Implements.” There, at least, +was a gleam of comfort. The store was a real +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span> +thing. Their uncle, little though they knew about +him, was a real man.</p> +<p>Then, as the evening twilight gathered, they +walked out to the borders of the suburb where he +lived. They did not venture into the avenue where +they had been told his house was, vaguely fearing +that he might meet and recognize them. As they +turned their steps towards the hotel, Oscar said: +“It’s lucky there are three of us to keep ourselves +in countenance. If that wasn’t the case, it would +be awfully lonely to think we were so near home, +and yet have gone ashore, hard and fast aground; +right in sight of port, as it were.”</p> +<p>The parents of these boys had been born and +brought up near the seacoast of New England, and +not a few marine figures of speech were mingled +in the family talk. So Charlie took up the parable +and gloomily said: “We are as good as castaways +in this big ocean of a city, with never a soul to +throw us a spar or give us a hand. I never felt so +blue in all my life. Look at those children playing +in that dooryard. Pretty poor-looking children +they are; but they’ve got a home over their heads +to-night. We haven’t.”</p> +<p>“Oh, pshaw, Charlie!” broke in Sandy; “why +will you always look on the dark side of things? +I know it’s real lonesome here in a strange city, +and away from our own folks. But they are not +so far away but what we can get to them after a +while. And we have got a roof over our heads for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span> +to-night, anyway; the Planters’ is good enough for +me; if you want anything better, you will have to +get outside of St. Louis for it; and, what is more, +they are not going to dun us for our board bill +until after to-day. I’m clean beat out traipsing +around this town, and I give you two fellows +notice that I am not going to stir a step out of the +hotel to-night. Unless it is to go to church,” he +added by way of postscript.</p> +<p>They did go to church that night, after they had +had their supper. It was a big, comfortable, and +roomy church, and the lads were shown into a corner +pew under the gallery, where they were not +conspicuous. The music of choir and organ was +soothing and comforting. One of the tunes sung +was “Dundee,” and each boy thought of their singing +the song of “The Kansas Emigrants,” as the +warbling measures drifted down to them from the +organ-loft, lifting their hearts with thoughts that +the strangers about them knew nothing of. The +preacher’s text was “In my father’s house are +many mansions.” Then they looked at each +other again, as if to say, “That’s a nice text for +three homeless boys in a strange city.” But nobody +even so much as whispered.</p> +<p>Later on in the sermon, when the preacher +touched a tender chord in Oscar’s heart, alluding +to home and friends, and to those who wander far +from both, the lad, with a little moisture in his +eyes, turned to look at Sandy. He was fast asleep +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span> +in his snug corner. Oscar made a motion to wake +him, but Charlie leaned over and said, “Leave the +poor boy alone. He’s tired with his long tramp +to-day.” When they went out after the service +was over, Oscar rallied Sandy on his sleeping in +church, and the lad replied: “I know it was bad +manners, but the last thing I heard the minister +say, was ‘Rest for the weary.’ I thought that was +meant for me. Leastways, I found rest for the +weary right off, and I guess there was no harm +done.”</p> +<p>With Monday morning came sunshine and a +clear and bracing air. Even Charlie’s face wore a +cheerful look, the first that he had put on since +arriving in St. Louis, although now and again his +heart quaked as he heard the hotel porter’s voice +in the hall roaring out the time of departure for +the trains that now began to move from the city +in all directions. They had studied the railroad +advertisements and time-tables to some purpose, +and had discovered that they must cross to East +St. Louis, on the Illinois side of the Mississippi +River, and there take a train for the northern part +of the State, where Dixon is situated. But they +must first see their Uncle Oscar, borrow the needed +money from him, settle with the steamboat people +and the hotel, and then get to the railroad station +by eleven o’clock in the forenoon. It was a big +morning’s work.</p> +<p>They were at their uncle’s store before he arrived +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span> +from his suburban home; and, while they waited, +they whisperingly discussed the question, Who +should ask for the money? Charlie was at first +disposed to put this duty on Sandy; but the other +two boys were very sure that it would not look +well for the youngest of the party to be the leader +on an occasion so important; and Charlie was +appointed spokesman.</p> +<p>Mr. Oscar Bryant came in. He was very much +surprised to see three strange lads drawn up in a +row to receive him. And he was still more taken +aback when he learned that they were his nephews, +on their way home from Kansas. He had heard +of his brother’s going out to Kansas, and he had +not approved of it at all. He was inclined to +think that, on the whole, it would be better for +Kansas to have slavery than to do without it. A +great many other people in St. Louis thought the +same way, at that time, although some of them +changed their minds later on.</p> +<p>Mr. Oscar Bryant was a tall, spruce-looking, and +severe man in appearance. His hair was gray and +brushed stiffly back from his forehead; and his +precise, thin, white whiskers were cut “just like a +minister’s,” as Sandy afterwards declared; and +when he said that going to Kansas to make it a +free State was simply the rankest kind of folly, +Charlie’s heart sunk, and he thought to himself +that the chance of borrowing money from their +stern-looking uncle was rather slim. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span></p> +<p>“But it doesn’t make any difference to you boys +whether slavery is voted up or down in Kansas, I +suppose,” he continued, less sternly. “You will +live to see the day when, if you live in Kansas, +you will own slaves and work them. You can +never clear up a wild country like that without +slave-labor, depend upon it. I know what I am +talking about.” And Uncle Oscar stroked his chin +in a self-satisfied way, as if he had settled the +whole Kansas-Nebraska question in his own manner +of thinking. Sandy’s brown cheeks flushed +and his eyes sparkled. He was about to burst out +with an indignant word, when Charlie, alarmed by +his small brother’s excited looks, blurted out their +troubles at once, in order to head off the protest +that he expected from Sandy. The lad was silent.</p> +<p>“Eh? what’s that?” asked the formal-looking +merchant. “Busted? And away from home? +Why, certainly, my lads. How much do you +need?” And he opened his pocket-book at once. +Greatly relieved, perhaps surprised, Charlie told +him that they thought that fifty dollars would pay +all their bills and get them back to Dixon. The +money was promptly handed over, and Charlie, +emboldened by this good nature, told his uncle +that they still owed for their passage down the +river from Leavenworth.</p> +<p>“And did they really trust you three boys for +your passage-money? How did that happen?” +asked the merchant, with admiration. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span></p> +<p>Charlie, as spokesman, explained that Sandy +had “sparred” their way for them; and when he +had told how Sandy still owed for a pack of cards, +and how it was his honest face and candid way of +doing things that had brought them thus far on +their homeward journey, Uncle Oscar, laughing +heartily and quite unbending from his formal and +dry way of talking, said, “Well done, my little +red-hot Abolitionist; you’ll get through this world, +I’ll be bound.” He bade the wanderers farewell +and goodspeed with much impressiveness and sent +messages of good-will to their parents.</p> +<p>“How do you suppose Uncle Oscar knew I was +an Abolitionist?” demanded Sandy, as soon as +they were out of earshot. “I’m not an Abolitionist, +anyhow.”</p> +<p>“Well, you’re a free-State man; and that’s the +same thing,” said Charlie. “A free-State boy,” +added Oscar.</p> +<p>With a proud heart the cashier of the Boy Settlers +paid their bill at the hotel, and reclaimed +their valise from the porter, with whom they had +lodged it in the morning before going out. Then +they hurried to the levee, and, to their surprise, +found that the little steamer that conveyed passengers +across the river to the East St. Louis railway +station lay close alongside the “New Lucy.” +Their task of transferring the baggage was easy.</p> +<p>“Say, Sandy, you made the bargain with the +clerk to bring us down here on the security of our +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span> +luggage; it’s nothing more than business-like that +you should pay him what we owe,” said Charlie.</p> +<p>“Right you are, Charlie,” added Oscar, “and +it’s fair that Sandy, who has had the bother of +sparring our way for us, should have the proud +satisfaction of paying up all old scores.” So +Sandy, nothing loth, took the roll of bills and +marched bravely up to the clerk’s office and paid +the money due. The handsome clerk looked approvingly +at the boy, and said: “Found your +friends? Good boy! Well, I wish you good +luck.”</p> +<p>The barkeeper said he had forgotten all about +the pack of cards that he had trusted Sandy with, +when the lad gave him the seventy-five cents due +him. “I can’t always keep account of these little +things,” he explained.</p> +<p>“But you don’t often trust anybody with cards +coming down the river, do you?” asked Sandy, +surprised.</p> +<p>“Heaps,” said the barkeeper.</p> +<p>“And do they always pay?”</p> +<p>“Some of ’em does, and then ag’in, some of ’em +doesn’t,” replied the man, as with a yawn he +turned away to rearrange his bottles and glasses.</p> +<p>With the aid of a lounger on the landing, whom +they thought they could now afford to fee for a +quarter, the youngsters soon transferred their luggage +from the “New Lucy” to the little ferry-boat +near at hand. To their great pleasure, they found +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span> +on board the pleasant-faced lady from Baltimore +and her party. She was apparently quite as pleased +to meet them, and she expressed her regret that +they were not going eastward on the train with +herself and sons. “We have had such a pleasant +trip down the river together,” she said. “And you +are going back to Illinois? Will you return to +Kansas in the spring?”</p> +<p>“We cannot tell yet,” replied Charlie, modestly. +“That all depends upon how things look in the +spring, and what father and Uncle Aleck think +about it. We are free-State people, and we want +to see the Territory free, you see.”</p> +<p>The pleasant-faced lady’s forehead was just a +little clouded when she said, “You will have your +labor lost, if you go to Kansas, then; for it will certainly +be a slave State.”</p> +<p>They soon were in the cars with their tickets for +Dixon bought, and, as Sandy exultingly declared, +paid for, and their baggage checked all the way +through. Then Sandy said, “I’m sorry that pretty +lady from Baltimore is a Border Ruffian.”</p> +<p>The other two boys shouted with laughter, and +Oscar cried: “She’s no Border Ruffian. She’s only +pro-slavery; and so is Uncle Oscar and lots of others. +You ought to be ashamed of yourself to be so––what +is it, Charlie? Intolerant, that’s what it is.”</p> +<p>The train was slowly moving from the rude shed +that was dignified by the name of railroad depot. +Looking back at the river with their heads out of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span> +the windows, for the track lay at right angles with +the river bank, they could now see the last of the +noble stream on which they had taken their journey +downwards from “bleeding Kansas” by the Big +Muddy. They were nearing home, and their hearts +were all the lighter for the trials and troubles +through which they had so lately passed.</p> +<p>“We don’t cross the prairies as of old our fathers +crossed the sea, any more, do we, Charlie?” said +Oscar, as they caught their last glimpse of the +mighty Mississippi.</p> +<p>“No,” said the elder lad. “We may not be +there to see it; but Kansas will be the homestead +of the free, for all that. Mind what I say.”</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;margin-top:40px;'>Typography by J. S. Cushing & Co., Boston.</p> +<hr style='border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width:200px; margin:5px auto;' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;'>Presswork by Berwick & Smith, Boston.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOY SETTLERS***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 29129-h.txt or 29129-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/9/1/2/29129">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/1/2/29129</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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