CHAPTER V
FIRST GLIMPSES OF COLORADO AND A NEW HOME
Just one week from the day they had reached Denver they set outagain on their journey southward. They were going to a beautifulplace in the mountains, called the Ute Pass. It really is a canyon:you remember I tried to explain to you what a canyon is like. Thiscanyon is called the Ute Pass because a tribe of Indians named theUtes used to come and go through it when they were journeying fromone hunting ground to another. A little stream comes down throughthis pass, which is called the Fountain Creek. It leaps and tumblesfrom rock to rock, and is always in a foam. A great many years ago,some Frenchmen who were here named it "The fountain that boils."Part of the canyon is very narrow, and the rocky walls are veryhigh. There is a good road through it now, close beside the brook;but when the Indians used to go through it there was no road: theyhad a little narrow path; some parts of it are still to be seen highup on the ledges of the rock, wherever there is room enough for apony to get foothold. It looks like a little, worn track which sheepor goats might have made; you would never believe, to look at it,that great bands of Indians on ponies used to travel over it. Onething they used to come down for was to drink the waters of somesprings which bubble up out of the rocks at the mouth of the canyon.These are very strange. They bubble up so fast that they look as ifthey were boiling: this is why the Frenchmen called the brook "Thefountain that boils." But they are not any hotter than the water inthe brook. The Indians found out that this water would cure peoplewho were ill: so they used to wrap their sick people up in blankets,and bring them on ponies over this little narrow path through thepass, and then build their wigwams close to the springs, and staythere for weeks, drinking the water, and bathing in it. The lastpart of the canyon is not narrow: it widens out; and has littlefields and meadows and groves in it. The road through it is linedalmost all the way with green trees and bushes of different kinds;and there is a beautiful wild-hop vine which grows in greatabundance, and climbs up the trees, and seems to be tying them allup in knots together; the hop blossoms look like green tassels atevery knot. Does not this sound like a lovely place to live in? Mr.and Mrs. March thought so; they had seen several pictures of it; anda man who had lived two years there told them about it, and tried topersuade them to buy his house and land. But old Deacon Plummer wastoo wise to buy till they had tried it.
"No, no," he said; "we'll hire it for six months first, and see howit works. It may be all true as you say about the cattle's grazin'well up and down them rocks; but I'd rather hev medder land any day.We'll hire, to begin with."
So they had rented the man's house and land for six months, and hadbought all his cows: the cows were still on the place. Then theybought a nice wagon, with three seats and a white top to it, verymuch like the butchers' carts you see going round with meat to sellin country villages. All the farmers in Colorado drive in suchwagons. Then they had bought two horses. The horses and the wagonwere to go with them on the cars. I must tell you about the horses.They had such queer names! One was a dark red, and he was called"Fox." He had a narrow head and a sharp nose; and really his facedid look like a fox's face. The other horse was of a very queershade of reddish yellow, with a good deal of white about him; hisforefeet were white, and his mane was almost white; and, if you willbelieve it, his name was "Pumpkinseed"! The man the Marches boughthim of did not know why he was called so. He himself had only ownedhim a year; and, when he asked the man he bought him of how he cameto give the horse such a queer name, he said he "didn't know. Theold woman named him; mebbe she thought he was kind o' the color ofpumpkin-seed, sort o' streaked with yaller 'n' white." Rob wasdelighted with this name. He kept singing it over and over:"Pumpkinseed! Pumpkinseed! We've got a horse calledPumpkinseed!"--till his mother begged him to stop.
The railroad which runs southward from Denver is the kind ofrailroad called a narrow-gauge railroad. This means that the trackis only about two-thirds the width of ordinary railroad tracks; andthe cars and the engines are made small to match the track. Youcan't think how droll a train of such little cars looks when youfirst see it; it looks like a play train. A gentleman I know said afunny thing the first time he saw a little narrow-gauge trainpuffing along behind its little engine; he turned to his wife: "Lookhere, wife," said he; "let's buy that and send it home to thechildren to play with."
When Rob and Nelly first stepped into the little car, theyexclaimed, "What a funny car!" On one side the car there were doubleseats in which two people could sit; on the other side were singleseats, rather tight even for one person. Nelly and Rob both ran toget two of these little seats.
"Hurrah!" said Rob, as he sat down in this; "I'm going in a highchair! Mamma, ain't this just like a baby's high chair?"
"Yes, just about, Rob," said Mr. March, who had taken his seat inone, and found it too tight for comfort.
But they soon ceased to wonder at the little seats, for they foundso much to look at out of the car windows. The journey from Denverto the town of Colorado Springs, where they were to leave the cars,takes four hours and a half: the road lies all the way on theplains, but runs near the lower hills of the mountain ranges on theright; about half way, it crosses what is called the "Divide." Thatis a high ridge of land, with great pine groves on it, and abeautiful little lake at the top. This is over eight thousand feethigh.
Down the south side of this, the cars run swiftly by their ownweight, just as you go down hill on a sled: the engine does not haveto draw them at all. In fact, they have to turn the brakes down someof the time to keep the cars from going too fast.
Nelly and Rob sat sidewise in their seats with their faces close tothe window, all the way. They had never seen such a country. Everymile new mountain tops came in sight, and new and wonderful rocks.Some of the rocks looked like great castles, with towers to them.More than once Rob called out:--
"There, mamma! that one is a castle: I know it is. It can't possiblybe a rock."
And it was hard even for the grown people to believe that they weremerely rocks. Old Deacon and Mrs. Plummer were almost as muchexcited as Rob and Nelly. The Deacon, however, was looking with afarmer's eye at the country. He did not like to find so much snow:as far as he could see in all directions, there was a thin coatingof snow over the ground. The yellow grass blades stood up above itlike little masts of ships under water. Everywhere he looked he sawcattle walking about. They did not look as if they were contented;and they were so thin, you could see their bones when they cameclose to the cars.
At last the Deacon said to Mr. March:--
"Here's their stock runnin' out all winter, that we've heard so muchon; but it appears to me, it's mighty poor-lookin' stock. I don'tsee how in natur' the poor things get a livin' off this dried grass,half buried up in snow."
"Ah, sir!" spoke up a man on the seat behind Mr. March; "you do notknow how much sweeter the hay is, dried on the stalk, standing.There is no such hay in the world as the winter grasses inColorado."
"Do you keep stock yourself, sir?" asked the Deacon.
"No, I've never been in the stock business myself," the man replied;"but I have lived in this State five years, and I know it prettywell; and it's the greatest country for stock in the world,sir,--yes, the greatest in the world."
Deacon Plummer smiled, but did not ask any more questions. Afterthis enthusiastic man had left the car, the Deacon said quietly,pointing to a poor, lean cow who was sniffing hungrily at somelittle tufts of yellow grass near the railroad track: "I'd ratherhave her opinion than his. If the critter could speak, I guess she'dsay, 'Give me a manger full of good medder hay, in a Massachusettsbarn, in place of all this fine winter grass of Colorado.'"
Rob and Nelly laughed out at this idea of the cow's being called inas witness.
"I guess so too," said Rob; "don't she look hungry, though?"
Just before they reached the town of Colorado Springs, they suddenlysaw, a short distance off, on the right-hand side of the railroadtrack, two enormous red rocks, rising like broken pieces of a high
wall; they looked thin, like slabs. One of them was deep brick red,and the other was a sort of pink.
"Oh, mamma! look quick, look quick," exclaimed Nelly: "what canthose red rocks be?"
"They are the Gates of the Garden of the Gods," said the conductor,who was passing at that moment; "the Garden lies just behind them,and you drive in between those high rocks."
Even while he was passing, the rocks disappeared from view. Nellylooked at them with awe-stricken eyes.
"The Garden of the Gods, sir!" she said; "what does that mean? Whatgods? Do they worship heathen gods in this country?"
A lady who was sitting opposite Nelly laughed aloud at thisquestion.
"I don't wonder you ask such a question," she said: "it is one ofthe most absurd names ever given to a place, and I cannot find outwho gave it. Those high rocks that you saw are like a sort ofgateway into a great field which is full of very queer-shaped rocks.Most of them are red, like the gates; some of them have uncouthresemblances to animals or to human heads. There is one that lookslike a seal, and another like a fish standing on its tail, andpeering up over a rock. There are a good many cedar-trees and pinesin this place, and in June a few flowers; but, for the most part, itis quite barren. The soil is of a red color, like the rocks; and thegrass is very thin, so that the red color shows through; and youcouldn't find a place in all Colorado that looks less like agarden."
"But why did they say 'gods'?" asked Nelly; "did they mean the oldgods? My papa has told me about them,--Jupiter, and his wife, Juno.Is this where they lived?"
The lady laughed again. "I can't tell you about that, dear," shesaid. "I think they thought the place was so grand that it lookedas if it ought to belong to some beings greater than human beings:so they said 'gods.' I think myself it would have been a good namefor it to call it the 'Fortress of the Gods,' or 'The Tombs of theGiants;' but not the 'Garden of the Gods.' I shouldn't want it evenfor my own garden; and I'm only a commonplace woman. But it is avery wonderful place to see. You will be sure to go there, for allstrangers are taken to see it."
"Do you live in Colorado, madam?" asked Mrs. March.
"Oh, yes!" replied the lady: "Colorado Springs, the little town weare just coming to, is my home."
"Do you like it?" asked Mrs. March, anxiously.
"Like it!" replied the lady: "like is not a strong enough word. Ilove it. I love these mountains so that, whenever I go away fromthem, I miss them all the time; and I keep seeing them before me allthe while, just as you see the face of a dear friend you areseparated from. I should be very ungrateful, if I did not love theplace; for it has simply made me over again. I came out here threeyears ago on a mattress, with my doctor and nurse, and thought itvery doubtful if I lived to get here; and I have been perfectly wellever since."
"Did you have asthma?" asked Rob, turning very red as soon as he hadasked the question. He was afraid it was improper. "My papa has theasthma."
"Oh, if that is your papa's trouble, he will be sure to be entirelywell. Nobody can have asthma in Colorado," replied the lady. "It isthe one thing which is always cured here. My own trouble was only athroat trouble."
"I am very glad to hear you speak so confidently about the asthma,"said Mrs. March: "my husband has been a great sufferer from it, andit is for that we have come."
"You have done the very wisest thing you could have done," said thelady "you will never be sorry for it. But here we are; goodmorning."
The train was already stopping in front of a little brown woodenbuilding, and the brakeman called out: "Colorado Springs."
"What a pleasant lady!" said Nelly to her mother.
"Yes," said Mrs. March; "but it was partly because she told us suchgood news for papa."
As they stepped out on the platform, they were almost deafened bythe shouts of two black men, who were calling out the names of twohotels: two omnibuses belonging to the different hotels werestanding there, and each black man was trying to get the mostpassengers for his hotel. Each man called out:--
"Free 'bus--this way to the free 'bus--only first-class hotel in thecity."
"Mercy on us!" exclaimed Mrs. March. "Let us go to the one whospeaks the lowest, if there is any difference. They must thinkrailroad travellers are all deaf! It makes no difference to whichone we go just for a dinner. We shall drive home this afternoon."
So saying, she stepped into the nearest omnibus, and the rest of theparty followed her. In a moment more, the driver cracked his whip,and the four horses set off on a full gallop up the hill which liesbetween the railway station and the town. As they drew near thehotel door, the driver turned such a sharp corner, all at fullspeed, that the omnibus swung round on the wheels of one side, andpitched so violently that it threw both Nelly and Rob off theirseats into the laps of their father and mother who sat opposite.
"Hullo!" exclaimed Rob, picking himself up, "this is the way thegods drive, I suppose!"
His mother looked reprovingly at him; but he only laughed andsaid:--
"They call every thing after the gods, don't they? So I thought thatpitch was the same sort."
After dinner, Deacon Plummer harnessed Fox and Pumpkinseed into thenew wagon, and they set out for their new home. It was a beautifulafternoon; as warm and bright as a May day in New England. There wasno snow to be seen except on the mountains, which rose like a greatblue wall with white peaks to the west of the town.
"Now this feels something like," said the Deacon, as they set out;"this is like what they told us. I wonder if it's been this way allwinter."
They drove five miles straight towards the mountains. Nelly hadtaken her picture of Pike's Peak out of the travelling-bag, and heldit in her hand. Now she could look up from it to the real mountainitself, and see if the picture were true.
"I don't care for the picture any more, papa," said Nelly, "now I'vegot the mountain. The picture isn't half so beautiful." And Nellyhardly took her eyes from the shining, snowy summit till they wereso close to its base that it was nearly shut out from their sight bythe lower hills.
They drove through the little village at the mouth of the Ute Pass.Here they saw two large hotels, and half a dozen small houses andshops. This little village is called Manitou. The Indians named itso. Manitou means "Good Spirit," and they thought the Good Spirithad made the waters bubble up out of the rocks here to cure sickpeople. A few rods beyond the last house, they entered the realpass. Now their surprises began. On each side of them were highwalls of rock: at the bottom of the right-hand wall was just roomenough for the road; on the left hand they looked over a steepprecipice down to a brook which was rushing over great stones, andleaping down with much roar and foam from one basin to another;there was no fence along this left-hand side of the road, and asMrs. March looked over she shuddered, and exclaimed:--
"Oh, Robert, let me get out! I never can drive up this road: let usall walk."
Mr. March himself thought it was dangerous; so he stopped thehorses, and Mrs. March and Mrs. Plummer and the two children got outto walk. Nelly and Rob did not look where they were walking; theywere all the while looking up at the great rocks over their heads,which jutted out above the road like great shelves: some rose uphigh in the air like towers; they were all of a fine red color, orelse of a yellowish brown; and they were full of sharp points, anddeep lines were cut in them; and a beautiful green lichen grew onmany of them. Sometimes they were heaped up in piles, so that theylooked as if they might tumble down any minute; sometimes they werehollowed out in places that looked as if they were made for nichesfor statues to stand in; on one high hill was a strange pile, builtup so solid and round it looked like a pulpit. Mrs. March and Nellyand Rob were standing still, looking at this, when a man who passedby, seeing they were strangers, called out:--
"That's Tim Bunker's Pulpit."
"Who's Tim Bunker?" cried Rob; but the man was riding so fast he didnot hear him.
"Oh, Nell! if it isn't too far we'll climb up there some day: won'twe?" said Rob. "Mamma, don't you suppose we're pretty near ourh
ouse?"
"I think not, Rob," replied Mrs. March; "there cannot be any placefor a house while the pass is so narrow."
"Oh, mamma! mamma! come here!" shouted Nelly. She had taken one stepdown from the road, and was looking over into the brook. "Here isthe most beautiful little fall you ever saw!"
They all climbed carefully down on the broad stone where Nelly wasstanding, and looked over. It was indeed a beautiful fall: not veryhigh,--but all one white foam from top to bottom; and the water fellinto a small pool, where the spray had frozen into a great roundrim: it looked like frosted silver.
"That's a pretty silver bowl to catch the water in; ain't it, now?"said Mrs. Plummer. "I'd like a drink of it."
"What a queer country this is!" said Mrs. March "here we are walkingwithout any outside wraps on, and almost too warm in the sun; andhere is ice all round this pool; and I have seen little thin rims ofice here and there on the brook all the way up."
"It's just bully," cried Rob. "Say, mamma, I'm going down to drinkout of that bowl;" and, before they could stop him, Rob was half waydown the precipice. He found it rougher than he thought; and he hadmore than one good tumble before he got down to the bed of thebrook: but he reached it, dipped his drinking-cup into the pool,broke off a big piece of the frozen spray, and with that in onehand, and his drinking-cup in the other, began to climb up again.This was twice as hard as to go down,--it made Rob puff and pant,and he lost his piece of ice before he had gone many steps,--but hemanaged to carry the water up, and very much they all enjoyed it."It's the sweetest water I ever tasted," said Mrs. Plummer.
"Yes," said Mrs. March, "it must be, in good part, melted snow waterout of the mountains: that is always sweet. This is the brook, nodoubt, which runs past our house. You know they said it was close tothe brook."
"Oh, splendid!" cried Rob; "oh, mamma, isn't this a gay country? somuch nicer than an old village with streets in it, like Mayfield.This is some fun."
Mrs. March laughed, but she thought in her heart:
"I hope he'll always find it fun."
"I don't think it's fun, Rob," said Nelly, slowly.
"Why not, Nell?" exclaimed Rob; "why don't you like it?"
"I do like it," said Nell, earnestly; "I like it better than anything in all the world; but I don't think it's fun. It's lots betterthan fun."
"Well, what'd you call it, if you don't call it fun?" said Rob, in avexed tone.
Nelly did not answer.
"Why don't you say?" cried Rob.
"I'm thinking," replied Nelly: "I guess there isn't any name for it.I don't know any."
Just at this moment, they heard the tinkle of bells ahead, and in asecond more loud shouts and cries. They walked faster. The wagon hadbeen out of their sight for some time. As they turned a sharp bendin the road now, they saw it; and they saw also another wagonbrought to a dead halt in front of it. The wagon which was comingdown was loaded high with packages of shingles. It was drawn by sixmules. They had bells on their necks, so as to warn people when theywere coming. Mr. March and Deacon Plummer had heard these bells, butthey had not known what they meant: if they had, they would havedrawn off into one of the wider bends in the road, and waited. Nowhere the two wagons were, face to face, in one of the very worstplaces in the road, just where it seemed barely wide enough for onewagon alone. The rock rose up straight on one side, and theprecipice fell off sharp on the other. To make matters worse,Pumpkinseed, who hated the very sight of a mule, and who did notlike the shining of the bright, yellow shingles, began to rear andto plunge. The driver of the mule team sat still, and looked at Mr.March and the Deacon surlily without speaking. Mr. March and theDeacon looked at him helplessly, and said:--
"What are we going to do now?"
"Didn't yer hear me a-coming?" growled the man.
"No, sir," said Mr. March, pleasantly: "we are strangers here, anddid not know what the bells meant."
At this the man jumped down: he was not so angry, when he found outthat they were strangers. He walked down the road a little way, andlooked, and shook his head; then he walked back in the direction hehad come from; then he came back, and said:--
"There's nothin' for it, mister, but you'll have to unharness yourteam. My mules'll stand; I'll help you."
So they took out Pumpkinseed and Fox, and Mr. March led them onahead. Then Deacon Plummer and the mule-driver pushed the wagonbackward down the road till they came to a place where there was acurve in the road, and they could push it up so close to the rockthat there was room for another wagon to pass. There the mule-driverdrove his wagon by; and then Mr. March led Fox and Pumpkinseed down,and harnessed them to the wagon again: all this time Mrs. March andMrs. Plummer and Rob and Nelly stood on the edge of the precipice,wherever they could find a secure place, and holding on to eachother. As the mule team started on, the driver called back: "There'sthree or four more behind me: you'd better keep a sharp lookout,mister."
"I should think so," exclaimed Deacon Plummer, "this is the perkiestplace for teams to pass in thet ever I got into. I don't much likethe thought o' comin' up and down here with all our teamin'."
"No," said Mrs. March. "I'll never drive down here as long as Ilive."
"Never's a long word, wife," laughed Mr. March. "If we're going tolive in this Pass, I don't doubt we shall get so used to this road,we sha'n't think any thing about it."
The road wound like a snake, turning first one way and then theother, and crossing the brook every few minutes. Sometimes theywould be in dark shadow, when they were close to the left-hand hill;and then, in a minute, they would come out again into full sunlight.
"It's just like going right back again from after sundown to themiddle of the afternoon: isn't it, mamma?" said Nelly. "How queer itfeels!"
"Yes," said Mrs. March, "and I do not like the sundown part. I hopeour house is not in such a narrow part of the Pass as this."
Presently they saw a white house a little way ahead, on theright-hand side of the road. A high, rocky precipice roseimmediately behind it; and the brook seemed to be running under thehouse, it was so close to it. The house was surrounded by tall pineand fir trees; and, on the opposite side of the road the hill was sosteep and high that already, although it was only three o'clock inthe afternoon, the sun had gone down out of sight, and the house wasdark and cold. The whole party looked anxiously at this house.
"That can't be it, can it?" said Mrs. March.
"Oh, no!" said Mr. March; "it isn't in the least such a house as thephotograph showed: but I will stop and ask."
A man was chopping wood a few steps from the house. Mr. March calledto him.
"This isn't Garland's, is it?"
Instead of replying, the man laid down his axe, and walked slowlyout to the road, staring very hard at them all.
"Be you the folks that's comin' to live to Garland's?" he said.
"Yes," said the Deacon; "and we hope this isn't the place; if 'tis,we hain't been told the truth, that's all."
"Oh, Lor', no," laughed the man. "This ain't Garland's; his place'stwo mile farther on. That ain't no great shakes of a place,either,--Garland's ain't; but he's got more land'n we have. Thereain't land enough here to raise a ground mole in. I'm sick on 't."
"You don't get daylight enough to raise any thing, for that matter,"said Mr. March; "here it is the middle of the afternoon, by theclock, and past sundown for you."
"I know it," said the man; "but there's something in the air herewhich kind o' makes up for every thing. I don't know how 'tis, butwe've had our healths first rate ever since we've lived here. ButI'm going to move down to the Springs: it's too lonesome up here,and there ain't nothin' to do. Be you goin' into stock?"
"Not much," said Mr. March. "We are only trying an experiment here:we have bought all Garland's cows."
"Have ye?" said the man. "Well, Garland had some first-rate cattle;but they're pretty well peaked out now. Cattle gets dreadful poorhere, along in March and April: ye'd reelly pity 'em. But it'samazin' how they pick up's soon's the
grass comes in June. It don'tseem to hurt 'em none to be kinder starved all winter. Come and seeus: we're neighborly folks out'n this country. My wife she'll beglad to know there's some wimmen folks in the Pass. She's been theonly woman here for a year. Garland he bached it: he hadn't nowife."
Rob and Nelly had listened silently with wide-open eyes and ears tothis conversation; but at this last statement Rob's curiosity gotthe better of him.
"What is baching it?" said he, as they drove off.
The man laughed.
"Ask your father: he'll tell you," he said.
"What is it, papa?" said Rob.
"I suppose it is for a man to live all alone, without any wife. Youknow they call unmarried men 'old bachelors,' after they get to bethirty or thirty-five. But I never heard the word before."
"Oh!" said Rob; "is that all? I thought 'twas a trade he had,--orsomething he sold or made."
"Well," said the Deacon; "any man that could live up here in thisstone gully, without his wife along, I don't think much of. It's thelonesomest place, for an out-doors place, that ever I saw."
"Oh, I think it's splendid!" said Rob.
"So do I," said Nelly. "It's perfectly beautiful!"
"Ain't it a comfort, Mrs. March," said Mrs. Plummer, "how childrenalways do take to new places?"
"We don't either," cried Rob; "I hate some places I've seen. Butthis is splendid. Just you look at those rocks: you bet I'll pitch'em down! I'm going up on to every one of the highest rocks I canfind."
"Oh, Rob! you'll break your neck," said Mrs. March. "I shall notallow you to climb, unless your father is with you."
"Now, mamma"--Rob was beginning when, suddenly catching sight of ahouse, he exclaimed:--
"There 'tis! That's like the picture. And there's the barn! I saw itfirst! Oh, hurry! hurry!" And in his excitement Rob stood up in thewagon.
Yes, there it was. It had looked better in the photograph which Mr.Garland had showed to Mr. March than it did in reality. It was asmall, unpainted pine house; without any piazza or blinds. Thewindows were small; the front door was very small; there was nofence between it and the road; and all the ground around it hadbeen left wild. It was really a desolate-looking place.
"Why, there isn't any yard!" exclaimed Nelly.
"Yard!" said her mother; "why, it is _all_ yard, child. As far asyou can see in every direction, it is all our yard."
Mrs. March's heart had really sunk within her at the sight of theplace. The house was nothing more than she would have called ashanty at home; but she was resolved, no matter what happened tothem, never to let her husband see that she found any thing hard. Soshe spoke cheerfully about the yard; and, as they were getting outof the wagon, she said:--
"How nice and open it is here! See, Robert, the sun is still an hourhigh, I should think. This is a lovely place."
Mr. March shook his head. He did not like the appearance of things.Mrs. Plummer had bustled ahead into the house. In a moment she cameback, followed by a man. This was the man who had been left by Mr.Garland in charge of the house, and who was to stay and work for Mr.March.
"Bless my eyes!" he exclaimed; "you've took me by surprise. I hain'thad no letter from Garland. He said he'd write and let me know whenyou'd be up. I calculated to have spruced up considerable before youcome in. We've bached it here so long 'tain't much of a place forwimmen folks to come to."
"Oh, never mind!" said Mrs. March; "Mr."--she hesitated for a name;"I don't think I've heard your name--"
"Zeb, ma'am; Zeb's my name. Don't go by any other name since I'vebeen in these mountains," said the man, pulling off his old woollencap, and making an awkward bow to Mrs. March, whose pleasant smileand voice had won his liking at once.
"Never mind, then, Zeb," Mrs. March continued: "we have not comeexpecting to find things as we had them at home. We shall call it apicnic all the time."
"Well, that's about what it is, mum, most generally in thiscountry's fur's I've seen it," said Zeb, thinking at that moment,with a dreadful misgiving, that he had no meat in the house, exceptsalt pork; and no bread at all. He had intended to make some sodabiscuit for his own supper. "But she looks like jest one o' themkind that can't abide soda," thought poor Zeb to himself. "An' wherein thunder be they all to sleep?" he continued; "Garland might ha'known better than to let six folks come down on me, this way,without any warnin'. 'Twas mighty unconsiderate of him! However,'tain't none o' my business. I don't keep no hotel."
While Zeb was pursuing this uncomfortable train of thought, he washelping Deacon Plummer and Mr. March unharness the horses; he seemedsilent, and, Mr. March thought, surly; but it was in reality onlyhis distress at not being able to make the family more comfortable.Finally he spoke.
"Did Garland tell you he'd written?"
"Oh, yes!" said Mr. March; "he said he'd written, and you would belooking out for us."
"Well, perhaps he wrote, and perhaps he didn't. It's as likely asnot he didn't. At any rate, if he did, the letter's down in thatManitou post-office. I hain't never seen it: an' I may as well tellyou first as last, that I ain't no ways ready for ye. There ain'tbut two beds in the whole house. I was a calculatin' to bring up onemore from the Springs next week; an' I hain't got much in the way ofprovisions, either, except for the hosses. There's plenty of oats,an' that's about all there is plenty of."
Deacon Plummer and Mr. March were standing in the barn door: theDeacon thrust his hands deep down in his pockets and whistled. Mr.March looked at Zeb's face. The more he studied it, the better heliked it.
"Zeb," said he, "we can stay, somehow, can't we? We men can sleep onthe hay for a few nights, if the sleeping's all. What have youreally got in the way of food? That's the main thing."
It pleased Zeb to have Mr. March say "we men." "I guess he's gotsome stuff in him, if he is a parson," thought Zeb; and his facebrightened as he replied:
"Well, if you can sleep on the hay, it's all right about thesleepin'; but I didn't reckon you could. But that's only part o' thetrouble. However, I can jump on to a hoss and ride down to Manitouand pick up suthin', if the wimmen folks think they can get along."
"Get along! of course we can get along!" exclaimed Mrs. March, whohad just come out in search of her husband. "There is an iron potand a tea-kettle and a frying-pan and a barrel of flour and a firkinof Graham meal; what more do we want?" and she laughed merrily.
"Hens, mamma, hens! There are lots of hens here!" shouted Rob,coming up at full speed; "and see this splendid shepherd dog! Heknows me already! See! he follows me!" and Rob held his hand high upin the air to a beautiful black and white shepherd dog who wasrunning close behind him.
"Yes; Watch, he's real friendly with everybody," said Zeb. "He'slots o' company, Watch is. He knows more'n most folks. Here, Watch!give us your paw?"
The dog lifted one paw and held it out.
"No, not that one--the white one!" said Zeb.
Watch dropped the black paw, and held up the white one instantly.
"He'll do that just's often's you'll ask him," said Zeb; "an' it'sa mighty queer thing for a dog to know black from white."
"Oh! let me try him?" said Rob, "Here, Watch! Watch!" Watch ran toRob at once.
"He does take to you, that's a fact," said Zeb.
"Give your paw, Watch,--your white paw," said Rob.
Watch put his white paw in Rob's hand.
"Now your black paw," said Rob.
Watch put down his white paw and lifted the other.
"White, black!--white, black!" said Rob, as fast as he couldpronounce the words; and, just as fast as he said them, the dog heldup his paws.
At this moment, Nelly appeared, her cheeks very red, carrying alittle yellow and white puppy in her arms.
"Oh! see this dear little puppy!" she said; "doesn't he just matchPumpkinseed?"
"We might call him Pumpkin Blossom," said Mrs. March.
"His name's Trotter," said Zeb. "He's jest got it learned: I guessyou can't change it very easy. Put him down, miss, and I'll show youwhat
he can do. I hain't taught him much yet; he's such a pup: butthere's nothin' he can't learn. Trotter, roll over!"
The puppy lay down instantly and rolled over and over. "Faster!"said Zeb.
Trotter rolled faster. "Faster! faster! fast as you can!" cried Zeb;and Trotter rolled so fast that you could hardly see his legs or histail; he looked like a round ball of yellow hair, with two brighteyes in it.
Nelly and Rob shouted with laughter, and even Mr. March and DeaconPlummer laughed hard. They had been so busy that they had notobserved that it was growing dark. Suddenly Zeb looked up, andsaid:--
"Ye'd better run in: it's going to be a snow flurry."
"A snow flurry!" exclaimed Mrs. March, looking up at the bright bluesky overhead. "Where's the snow to come from?"
"Out o' that cloud, mum," replied Zeb, pointing to a black cloudjust coming up over the top of the hill to the west. "'T'll be herein less than five minutes; mebbe 't'll be hail: reckon 't will."
Sure enough, in less than five minutes the cloud had spread overtheir heads, and the hail began to fall. They all stood at thewindows and watched it. Rattle, rattle, it came on the roof andagainst the west windows, and the hailstones bounded off from everyplace they hit, and rolled about on the ground like marbles. Atfirst they were very small: not bigger than pins' heads; but largerand larger ones came every minute, until they were as big as largeplums. Rob and Nelly had never seen such hailstones; they were halffrightened, and yet the sight was so beautiful to watch, that theyenjoyed it. The storm did not last more than ten minutes; thehailstones grew smaller again, just as they had grown larger; andthen they came slower and slower, till they stopped altogether, andthe great black cloud rolled off toward the south and left the skyclear blue above their heads, just as it was before; and the sunshone out, and every thing glistened like silver from the boughs ofthe trees down to the blades of grass. The great hailstones werepiled up in all the hollow places of the ground, but the hot sunshining on them began to melt them immediately; and, except wherethey were in the shadow of rocks or trees or piles of boards, theydid not last long. Nelly picked up a tin pan and ran out and filledit in a minute: then she passed them round to everybody, saying:"Won't you have some sugared almonds?" and they all ate them andpretended they were candy; and Rob and Nelly rolled them away fromthe doorstep and made Trotter run after them. In less than tenminutes after the storm had passed, it was so warm that they wereall standing in the open doorway, or walking about out of doors.
"Upon my word, what a country this is!" said Mr. March. "Ten minutesago it was winter; now it is spring."
"Yes," said Zeb. "That's jest the way 'tis all through the winter;but next month ye'll get some winter in good airnest. April 'n'May's our winter months. I've seen the snow a foot 'n' a half deepin this Pass in May."
"What!" exclaimed Mr. March, now really excited. "A foot and a halfof snow! What becomes of the cattle then?"
"Oh!" said Zeb, "it never lays long: not over a day or two. Thissun'll melt snow's quick's a fire'll melt grease, 'n' quicker."
"Then I suppose it is very muddy," said Mrs. March.
"No, mum, never no mud to speak of; sometimes a little stretch ofwhat they call adobe land'll be putty muddy for a week or so; but'sa general thing the roads are dry in a day; in fact, you'll oftensee the ground white with a little sprinkle of snow at eight o'clockin the morning, and by twelve you'll see the roads dry, except alongthe edges: the snow jest kind o' goes off in the air here; it don'tseem's if it melted into water at all."
"Well, I'll give it up!" said the Deacon; "near's I can make out,this country's a conundrum."
Mrs. March and Mrs. Plummer now set themselves to work in goodearnest to put the little house in order. They had brought with themonly what they could carry in valises and hand-bags: all their boxesand trunks were to come in a big wagon the next day; so there wasnot much unpacking to be done. The house had only five rooms in it:one large room, which was to be used as the kitchen and dining-roomand living-room; three small rooms which were for bedrooms; andanother room which had been used as a lumber-room. As soon as Mrs.March looked into this room, she resolved to make it into a littlesitting-room by and by. It had one window to the east, which lookedout on the brook, and one to the south, which had a most beautifulview down the Pass. These rooms had no plaster on the walls, and theboards were very rough; but the Colorado pine is such a lovely shadeof yellow that rooms built of bare boards are really prettier thanmost of the rooms you see which have paper on them.
Poor Mrs. Plummer thought these bare boards were dreadful. Sheworked on, industriously, helping Mrs. March do all she could; butevery few minutes she would give a great sigh, and look up at thewalls, or down at the floor, and say:--
"Well, Mrs. March! I never did expect to see you come to this."
Mr. March also wore rather a long face as he stood in the doorwayand watched his wife.
"Oh, Sarah!" he said, at last, "I can't bear to have you work likethis. I didn't realize it was going to be just such a place. I shallgo to the Springs to-morrow and get a servant for you."
"You won't do any such thing, Robert," said Mrs. March. "There's noroom for a servant to sleep in; and I don't want one, any way. Mrs.Plummer will give me all the help I need; and Rob and Nelly willhelp too. Look at Rob now!" At that minute, Rob came puffing andpanting in at the door, with his arms full of crooked sticks, stemsof vines, and all sorts of odds and ends of drift-wood, which he hadpicked up on the edge of the brook.
"Here's kindling wood, mamma; lots of it. Zeb told me where to getit. There's lots and lots all along the brook." And he threw downhis armful on the hearth, and was going back for more.
"Dear boy! here is enough, and more than enough," said Mrs. March."You can bring me some water next; we dip it out of the brook, Isuppose."
"Now, mamma, that's just all you know about it," replied Rob, with amost exultant air of superiority; "there's just the nicest spring,right across the brook, only a little bit of ways. Zeb showed me;you come and see,--there's a bridge."
Mrs. March followed him. Sure enough, there was a nice, freshspring, bubbling up out of the ground, among the bushes; it waswalled around with boards a few feet high, so that the cattle shouldnot trample too close to it; a narrow plank was laid across thebrook just opposite it; and it was twenty steps from the house.
"See, mamma," said Rob, as he dipped in the pail, and drew it outdripping full, "see how nice this is. I can bring you all the wateryou want."
"Take care! take care, Rob!" shouted his father, as Rob stepped backon the plank. He was too late. Rob in his excitement had stepped alittle to one side of the middle of the plank; it tipped; he losthis balance, and over he went, pail of water and all, into thebrook. The brook was not deep, and he scrambled out again in lessthan a minute,--much mortified and very wet. Mrs. March could nothelp laughing.
"Well, you helped fill the brook instead of my pail; didn't you?"she said.
"But, mamma, I haven't got any dry clothes," said poor Rob: "what'llI do?"
"That's a fact, Rob," said his mother. "You'll have to go to bedwhile these dry."
"Oh, dear!" said Rob; "that's too bad!" And he walked verydisconsolately toward the house. Zeb was just riding off, with twoempty sacks hanging from his saddle pommel.
"Zeb," called Rob; "I tumbled in the brook; and I've got to go tobed till my clothes are dry."
"Don't you do no such a thing," cried Zeb; "you jest walk round aleetle lively, and your clothes'll be dry afore ye know it. Waterdon't wet ye much in this country."
"Come, now, Zeb," said the Deacon, "let's draw a line somewhere!That's a little too big a story. I can believe ye about the snow'snot making mud, because I've seen these hailstones just melt awayinto nothin' in half an hour; but when it comes to water's notwettin', I can't go that."
"Well, you just feel of me now!" shouted Rob; "I'm half dryalready!"
The Deacon and Mrs. March both felt Rob's arms and shoulders.
"'Pon my word, they ain't
so very wet," said the Deacon; "was it onlyjust now you tumbled in?"
"Not five minutes ago," said Mrs. March.
"It is certainly the queerest thing I ever saw," she continued,feeling Rob from his shoulders to his ankles: "he is really, as hesays, half dry. I'll try Zeb's advice. Rob, run up and down the roadas hard as you can for ten minutes; don't you stand still at all."
Rob raced away, with Watch at his heels, and Mr. and Mrs. Marchwalked into the house, Mr. March carrying the pail filled once morewith the nice spring water. In a few minutes, as they were busily atwork, they heard a sound at the door: they looked up; there stood awhite cow, looking in on them with a mild expression of surprise.
"Oh!" said Mr. March, "Zeb said the cows'd be coming home prettysoon. The Deacon and I'll have to milk."
"Yes, they're a comin'," called out the Deacon, peering over theback of the white cow, and pushing her gently to one side, so thathe could enter the door; "they're a comin' down the road, and downthe hill up there back o' the sawmill: I jest wish ye'd come andlook at 'em. Don't know as ye'd better, either, if ye want to have agood appetite for your supper! If ever ye see Pharaoh's lean kine,ye'll see 'em now."
Mr. and Mrs. March and Mrs. Plummer all ran out and stood in frontof the house, looking up the road. There came the cows, one, two,three, all in single file, down the hill, now and then stopping totake a nibble by the way; in the road there were half a dozen more,walking straight on, neither turning to the right nor the left.
"That's right, ye poor things: make for the barn; I would if I wasyou. Perhaps I won't feed you a good feed o' hay 'n' corn-mealto-night, sure's my name's Plummer!" The cows were indeed lean: youcould count every rib on their bodies, and their hip bones stuck outlike great ploughshares.
"What a shame!" exclaimed Mrs. March. "Husband, you were imposedupon. These cows are not worth any thing."
"Oh, yes they be; they're first-rate stock," said the Deacon;"first-rate stock, only they're so run down. Ye'll see I'll have 'emso fat in four weeks ye won't know 'em."
The cows gathered together in a little group between the two barns,and looked very hard at these strangers they had never seen before.They knew very well that something had happened,--they missedZeb,--and began to low uneasily; but when Deacon Plummer came out ofthe barn with a big pitchfork full of hay, and threw it down beforethem, all their anxieties were allayed. These were good friends whohad come: there was no doubt of that. Nine times the Deacon broughtout his pitchfork full of hay, and threw it on the ground, one foreach cow: and didn't they fall to and eat!
"H'm!" said the Deacon, as he watched them. "If this is the resultof your fine winter grazin', I don't want any thing to do with it.It's just slow starvation to my way o' thinking. Look at themudders! There ain't a quart apiece in 'em. Our milkin' 'll be soonover, Parson."
"The sooner the better for me, Deacon," laughed Mr. March. "I neverdid like to milk."
"Oh! let me milk! let me milk, papa! please do!" cried Rob, who hadreturned from his ten minutes' run on the road, as dry as ever.
"And me, too! me too!" said Nelly, who was close behind.
"Not to-night, children. It is late, and we are in a hurry," saidMr. March. Just as he spoke, the sun sank behind the hill. Almostinstantly, a chill fell on the air.
"Bless me," said Mr. March, "here we have winter again. Run in,children; it is growing too cold for you to be out. What a climatethis is, to be sure! one can't keep up with it."
While Deacon Plummer and Mr. March were milking, they talked overtheir prospects. They were forced to acknowledge that there wassmall chance of making a living on this farm.
"We're took in: that's all there is on't," said the Deacon,cheerily; "but I reckon we can grub along for six months; we canlive that long even if we don't make a cent; and now we're here, wecan look about for ourselves, and see what we're gettin' before wemake another move."
"Yes," said Mr. March. "That's the only way to do. I confess I amdisappointed. Mr. Garland seemed such a fair man."
The Deacon laughed. "Ye don't know human nature, Parson, the way wemen do that's knockin' round all the time among folks. Ye see folksalways comes to you when they're in trouble, or else when they'rejoyful,--bein' married, or a baptizin' their babies,--or somethin'o' ruther that's out o' the common line; so you don't never see 'emjest exactly's they are. Now I kinder mistrusted that Garland fromthe fust. He was too anxious to sell, to suit me. When a man's got afirst-rate berth, he ain't generally so ready to quit."
When the milkers went in with their pails of milk, they found ablazing fire on the hearth, and supper set out on a red pine tablewithout any table-cloth. Mrs. March had made Graham biscuit andwhite biscuit, and had baked some apples which she had left in herlunch-basket. When she saw the milk, she exclaimed:--
"Now, if this isn't a supper fit for a king!--bread and milk andbaked apples!"
"Ain't there any butter?" called out Rob.
"Yes, there is some butter; but I doubt if you will eat it," saidMrs. March. "Zeb is going to buy some better butter at Manitou."
Rob put some of the butter on his bread, and put a mouthful of thebread in his mouth. In less than a second, he had clapped his handover his mouth with an expression of horror.
"Oh, what'll I do, mamma? it's worse than medicine!" he cried; andswallowed the whole mouthful at one gulp. "That can't be butter,mamma," he said. "You've made a mistake. It'll poison us: it'ssomething else."
"Little you know about bad butter, don't you, Rob?" said DeaconPlummer, calmly buttering his biscuit, and eating it. "I've eatenmuch worse butter than this."
Rob's eyes grew big. "What'd you eat it for?" he said, earnestly.
"Sure enough," said Mrs. Plummer. "That's what I've always saidabout butter. If there's any thing else set before folks that's bad,why they just leave it alone. There isn't any need ever of eatingwhat you don't like. But when it comes to butter, folks seem tothink they've got to eat it, good, bad, or indifferent."
"That's so," said the Deacon; "and if I've heard you say so once,Elizy, I've heard you say it a thousand times; I don't know how'tis, but it does seem as if you had to have somethin' in shape o'butter, if it's ever so bad, to make a meal go down."
"I don't see how bad butter helps to make a meal go down," said Rob."It like to have made mine come up just now."
"Rob, Rob!" said his mother, reprovingly; "you forget that we are atsupper."
"Excuse me, mamma," said Rob, penitently; "but it was true."