Chapter 7
I had a lot of fun that first winter, but none that I can remember moregratefully than our trip in the sledgehouse--a tight little housefitted and fastened to a big sledge. Uncle Eb had to go to mill atHillsborough, some twelve miles away, and Hope and I, after muchcoaxing and many family counsels, got leave to go with him. The sky wascloudless, and the frosty air was all aglow in the sunlight that morningwe started. There was a little sheet iron stove in one corner of thesledgehouse, walled in with zinc and anchored with wires; a layer ofhay covered the floor and over that we spread our furs and blankets. Thehouse had an open front, and Uncle Eb sat on the doorstep, as it were,to drive, while we sat behind him on the blankets.
'I love you very much,' said Hope, embracing me, after we were seated.Her affection embarrassed me, I remember. It seemed unmanly to be pettedlike a doll.
'I hate to be kissed,' I said, pulling away from her, at which Uncle Eblaughed heartily.
The day came when I would have given half my life for the words I heldso cheaply then.
'You'd better be good t' me,' she answered, 'for when mother dies I'mgoin' t' take care o' you. Uncle Eb and Gran'ma Bisnette an' you an'everybody I love is goin' t' come an' live with me in a big, big house.An' I'm goin' t' put you t' bed nights an' hear ye say yer prayers aneverything.'
'Who'll do the spankin?' Uncle Eb asked.
'My husban',' she answered, with a sigh at the thought of all thetrouble that lay before her.
'An' I'll make him rub your back, too, Uncle Eb,' she added. 'Wall, Irather guess he'll object to that,' said he.
'Then you can give 'ins five cents, an' I guess he'll be glad t' do it,'she answered promptly.
'Poor man! He won't know whether he's runnin' a poorhouse er a hospital,will he?' said Uncle Eb. 'Look here, children,' he added, taking out hisold leather wallet, as he held the reins between his knees. 'Here's tewshillin' apiece for ye, an' I want ye t' spend it jest eggsackly as yeplease.' The last words were spoken slowly and with emphasis.
We took the two silver pieces that he handed to us and looked them allover and compared them.
'I know what I'll do,' said she, suddenly. 'I'm goin' t' buy my mother anew dress, or mebbe a beautiful ring,' she added thoughtfully.
For my own part I did not know what I should buy. I wanted a real gunmost of all and my inclination oscillated between that and a red rockinghorse. My mind was very busy while I sat in silence. Presently I roseand went to Uncle Eb and whispered in his ear.
'Do you think I could get a real rifle with two shilin'?' I enquiredanxiously.
'No,' he answered in a low tone that seemed to respect my confidence.'Bime by, when you're older, I'll buy ye a rifle--a real rip snorter,too, with a shiny barrel 'n a silver lock. When ye get down t, thevillage ye'll see lots o' things y'd rather hev, prob'ly. If I was you,children,' he added, in a louder tone, 'I wouldn't buy a thing but nuts'n' raisins.'
'Nuts 'n' raisins!' Hope exclaimed, scornfully.
'Nuts 'n' raisins,' he repeated. 'They're cheap 'n' satisfyin'. If yeeat enough uv 'em you'll never want anything else in this world.'
I failed to see the irony in Uncle Eb's remark and the suggestion seemedto have a good deal of merit, the more I thought it over.
''T any rate,' said Uncle Eb, 'I'd git somethin' fer my own selves.'
'Well,' said Hope, 'You tell us a lot o' things we could buy.'
'Less see!' said Uncle Eb, looking very serious. 'There's bootjacks an'there's warmin' pans 'n' mustard plasters 'n' liver pads 'n' all themkind o' things.'
We both shook our heads very doubtfully.
'Then,' he added, 'there are jimmyjacks 'n' silver no nuthin's.'
There were many other suggestions but none of them were decisive.
The snow lay deep on either side of the way and there was a glimmer onevery white hillside where Jack Frost had sown his diamonds. Here andthere a fox track crossed the smooth level of the valley and dwindled onthe distant hills like a seam in a great white robe. It grew warmer asthe sun rose, and we were a jolly company behind the merry jingle of thesleigh bells. We had had a long spell of quiet weather and the road layin two furrows worn as smooth as ice at the bottom.
'Consarn it!' said Uncle Eb looking up at the sky, after we had been onthe road an hour or so. 'There's a sun dog. Wouldn't wonder if we got asnowstorm' fore night.
I was running behind the sledge and standing on the brake hooks goingdownhill. He made me get in when he saw the sun dog, and let ourhorse--a rat-tailed bay known as Old Doctor--go at a merry pace.
We were awed to silence when we came in sight of Hillsborough, withspires looming far into the sky, as it seemed to me then, and buildingsthat bullied me with their big bulk, so that I had no heart for thespending of the two shillings Uncle Eb had given me. Such sublimityof proportion I have never seen since; and yet it was all very smallindeed. The stores had a smell about them that was like chloroform inits effect upon me; for, once in them, I fell into a kind of tranceand had scarce sense enough to know my own mind. The smart clerks, whogenerally came and asked, 'Well, young man, what can I do for you?' Iregarded with fear and suspicion. I clung the tighter to my coin always,and said nothing, although I saw many a trinket whose glitter went tomy soul with a mighty fascination. We both stood staring silently at theshow cases, our tongues helpless with awe and wonder. Finally, after awhispered conference, Hope asked for a 'silver no nothing', and provokedso much laughter that we both fled to the sidewalk. Uncle Eb had to doour buying for us in the end.
'Wall, what'll ye hev?' he said to me at length.
I tried to think-it was no easy thing to do after all I had seen.
'Guess I'll take a jacknife,' I whispered.
'Give this boy a knife,' he demanded. 'Wants t' be good 'n sharp. Mighthev t' skin a swift with it sometime.'
'What ye want?' he asked, then turning to Hope.
'A doll,' she whispered.
'White or black?' said he.
'White,' said she, 'with dark eyes and hair.'
'Want a reel, splendid, firs'-class doll,' he said to the clerk. 'Thetone'll do, there, with the sky-blue dress 'n the pink apron.'
We were worn out with excitement when we left for home under loweringskies. We children lay side by side under the robes, the doll betweenus, and were soon asleep. It was growing dark when Uncle Eb woke us,and the snow was driving in at the doorway. The air was full of snow, Iremember, and Old Doctor was wading to his knees in a drift. We were upin the hills and the wind whistled in our little chimney. Uncle Eb hada serious look in his face. The snow grew deeper and Old Doctor wentslower every moment.
'Six mild from home,' Uncle Eb muttered, as he held up to rest a moment.'Six mild from home. 'Fraid we're in fer a night uv it.'
We got to the top of Fadden's Hill about dark, and the snow lay so deepin the cut we all got out for fear the house would tip over. Old Doctorfloundered along a bit further until he went down in the drift and laybetween the shafts half buried. We had a shovel that always hung besidea small hatchet in the sledgehouse--for one might need much beside thegrace of God of a winter's day in that country--and with it Uncle Ebbegan to uncover the horse. We children stood in the sledgehouse doorwatching him and holding the lantern. Old Doctor was on his feet in afew minutes.
''Tain' no use tryin',' said Uncle Eb, as he began to unhitch. 'Can't gono further t'night.'
Then he dug away the snow beside the sledgehouse, and hitched Old Doctorto the horseshoe that was nailed to the rear end of it. That done, heclambered up the side of the cut and took some rails off the fence andshoved them over on the roof of the house, so that one end rested thereand the other on the high bank beside us. Then he cut a lot of hemlockboughs with the hatchet, and thatched the roof he had made over OldDoctor, binding them with the reins. Bringing more rails, he leaned themto the others on the windward side and nailed a big blanket over them,piecing it out with hemlock thatching, so it made a fairly comfortableshelter. We were under the wind in t
his deep cut on Fadden's Hill, andthe snow piled in upon us rapidly. We had a warm blanket for Old Doctorand two big buffalo robes for our own use. We gave him a good feed ofhay and oats, and then Uncle Eb cut up a fence rail with our hatchet andbuilt a roaring fire in the stove. We had got a bit chilly wading in thesnow, and the fire gave us a mighty sense of comfort.
'I thought somethin' might happen,' said Uncle Eb, as he hung hislantern to the ridge pole and took a big paper parcel out of his greatcoat pocket. 'I thought mebbe somethin' might happen, an' so I broughtalong a bite o' luncheon.'
He gave us dried herring and bread and butter and cheese.
''S a little dry,' he remarked, while we were eating, 'but it's drierwhere there's none.'
We had a pail of snow on top of the little stove and plenty of gooddrinking water for ourselves and the Old Doctor in a few minutes.
After supper Uncle Eb went up the side of the cut and brought back a lotof hemlock boughs and spread them under Old Doctor for bedding.
Then we all sat around the stove on the warm robes and listened to thewind howling above our little roof and the stories of Uncle Eb. Thehissing of the snow as it beat upon the sledgehouse grew fainter by andby, and Uncle Eb said he guessed we were pretty well covered up. We fellasleep soon. I remember he stopped in the middle of a wolf story, and,seeing that our eyes were shut, pulled us back from the fire a littleand covered us with one of the robes. It had been a mighty strugglebetween Sleep and Romance, and Sleep had won. I roused myself andbegged him to go on with the story, but he only said, 'Hush, boy; it'sbedtime,' and turned up the lantern and went out of doors. I woke onceor twice in the night and saw him putting wood on the fire. He had putout the light. The gleam of the fire shone on his face when he openedthe stove door.
'Gittin' a leetle cool here, Uncle Eb,' he was saying to himself.
We were up at daylight, and even then it was snowing and blowingfiercely. There were two feet of snow on the sledgehouse roof, and wewere nearly buried in the bank. Uncle Eb had to do a lot of shovelingto get out of doors and into the stable. Old Doctor was quite out of thewind in a cave of snow and nickering for his breakfast. There was plentyfor him, but we were on short rations. Uncle Eb put on the snow shoes,after we had eaten what there was left, and, cautioning us to keep in,set out for Fadden's across lots. He came back inside of an hour with agood supply of provisions in a basket on his shoulder. The wind had gonedown and the air was milder. Big flakes of snow came fluttering slowlydownward out of a dark sky. After dinner we went up on top of thesledgehouse and saw a big scraper coming in the valley below. Six teamsof oxen were drawing it, and we could see the flying furrows on eitherside of the scraper as it ploughed in the deep drifts. Uncle Eb put onthe snow shoes again, and, with Hope on his back and me clinging to hishand, he went down to meet them and to tell of our plight. The frontteam had wallowed to their ears, and the men were digging them out withshovels when we got to the scraper. A score of men and boys clung to thesides of that big, hollow wedge, and put their weight on it as the oxenpulled. We got on with the others, I remember, and I was swept off assoon as the scraper started by a roaring avalanche of snow that camedown upon our heads and buried me completely. I was up again and hada fresh hold in a jiffy, and clung to my place until I was nearlysmothered by the flying snow. It was great fun for me, and they wereall shouting and hallooing as if it were a fine holiday. They made slowprogress, however, and we left them shortly on their promise to try toreach us before night. If they failed to get through, one of themsaid he would drive over to Paradise Valley, if possible, and tell theBrowers we were all right.
On our return, Uncle Eb began shoveling a tunnel in the cut. When we gotthrough to the open late in the afternoon we saw the scraper party goingback with their teams.
'Guess they've gi'n up fer t'day,' said he. 'Snow's powerful deep downthere below the bridge. Mebbe we can get 'round to where the road'sclear by goin' 'cross lots. I've a good mind t' try it.'
Then he went over in the field and picked a winding way down the hilltoward the river, while we children stood watching him. He came backsoon and took down a bit of the fence and harnessed Old Doctor andhitched him to the sledgehouse. The tunnel was just wide enough to letus through with a tight pinch here and there. The footing was rathersoft' and the horse had hard pulling. We went in the field, strugglingon afoot--we little people--while Uncle Eb led the horse. He had to stopfrequently to tunnel through a snowdrift, and at dusk we had only gothalf-way to the bridge from our cave in the cut. Of a sudden Old Doctorwent up to his neck in a wall of deep snow that seemed to cut us offcompletely. He struggled a moment, falling on his side and wrenchingthe shafts from the runners. Uncle Eb went to work vigorously with hisshovel and had soon cut a narrow box stall in the deep snow around OldDoctor. Just beyond the hill dipped sharply and down the slope we couldsee the stubble sticking through the shallow snow. 'We'll hev t' stopright where we are until mornin',' he said. 'It's mos' dark now.
Our little house stood tilting forward about half-way down the hill, itsrunners buried in the snow. A few hundred yards below was a cliff wherethe shore fell to the river some thirty feet It had stopped snowing, andthe air had grown warmer, but the sky was dark We put nearly all the hayin the sledgehouse under Old Doctor and gave him the last of the oatsand a warm cover of blankets. Then Uncle Eb went away to the fence formore wood, while we spread the supper. He was very tired, I remember,and we all turned in for the night a short time after we had eaten. Thelittle stove was roaring like a furnace when we spread our blankets onthe sloping floor and lay down, our feet to the front, and drew the warmrobes over us. Uncle Eb, who had had no sleep the night before, beganto snore heavily before we children had stopped whispering. He was stillsnoring, and Hope sound asleep, when I woke in the night and heard therain falling on our little roof and felt the warm breath of the southwind. The water dripping from the eaves and falling far and near uponthe yielding snow had many voices. I was half-asleep when I heard anew noise under the sledge. Something struck the front corner of thesledgehouse--a heavy, muffled blow--and brushed the noisy boards. Then Iheard the timbers creak and felt the runners leaping over the soft snow.I remember it was like a dream of falling. I raised myself and staredabout me. We were slipping down the steep floor. The lantern, burningdimly under the roof, swung and rattled. Uncle Eb was up on his elbowstaring wildly. I could feel the jar and rush of the runners and therain that seemed to roar as it dashed into my face. Then, suddenly,the sledgehouse gave a great leap into the air and the grating of therunners ceased. The lantern went hard against the roof; there was amighty roar in my ears; then we heard a noise like thunder and felt theshock of a blow that set my back aching, and cracked the roof above ourheads. It was all still for a second; then we children began to cry, andUncle Eb staggered to his feet and lit the lantern that had gone out andthat had no globe, I remember, as he held it down to our faces.
'Hush! Are you hurt?' he said, as he knelt before us. 'Git up now, seeif ye can stand.'
We got to our feet, neither of us much the worse for what hadhappened--My knuckles were cut a bit by a splinter, and Hope had beenhit on the shins by the lantern globe as it fell.
'By the Lord Harry!' said Uncle Eb, when he saw we were not hurt.'Wonder what hit us.'
We followed him outside while he was speaking.
'We've slid downhill,' he said. 'Went over the cliff. Went kerplunk inthe deep snow, er there'd have been nuthin' left uv us. Snow's meltin'jest as if it was July.'
Uncle Eb helped us into our heavy coats, and then with a blanket overhis arm led us into the wet snow. We came out upon clear ice in amoment and picked our way along the lowering shore. At length Uncle Ebclambered up, pulling us up after him, one by one. Then he whistled toOld Doctor, who whinnied a quick reply. He left us standing together,the blanket over our heads, and went away in the dark whistling as hehad done before. We could hear Old Doctor answer as he came near, andpresently Uncle Eb returned leading the horse by the halter. Then heput us both
on Old Doctor's back, threw the blanket over our heads,and started slowly for the road. We clung to each other as the horsestaggered in the soft snow, and kept our places with some aid fromUncle Eb. We crossed the fence presently, and then for a way it was hardgoing. We found fair footing after we had passed the big scraper, and,coming to a house a mile or so down the road called them out of bed. Itwas growing light and they made us comfortable around a big stove,and gave us breakfast. The good man of the house took us home in a bigsleigh after the chores were done. We met David Brower coming after us,and if we'd been gone a year we couldn't have received a warmer welcome.