CHAPTER VI
LIFE AT GARLAND'S
This was the first night of the Marches and Plummers in theirstrange new home in Colorado. When they waked up the next morning,Mr. March and Deacon Plummer rolled up in buffalo robes on the hayin the barn, Mrs. March and Nelly in one bed in one little bedroom,Mrs. Plummer in another opening out of it, and Rob on an old blackleather sofa in the kitchen, they could hardly believe their eyes asthey looked around them. They all got up very early, and now theirnew life had begun in good earnest. Immediately after breakfast, Mr.March drove away in the big wagon with Fox and Pumpkinseed. He wouldnot tell his wife where he was going, nor take any one with him. Thetruth was, that in the night Mr. March had taken two resolutions:one was that he would get a servant for Mrs. March; the other wasthat he would buy furniture enough to make the house pleasant andcomfortable, and china enough to make their table look a little liketheir old home table. But he knew if he told Mrs. March what hemeant to do, she would think they ought not to spend the money. Alltheir own pretty china which they had used at home, she had packedup and left behind them, saying: "We shall not want any thing ofthat kind in Colorado." Mrs. March did not care about such thingshalf so much as Mr. March and Nelly did; that is, she could dowithout them more easily. She liked pretty things very much, but shecould do without them very well if it were necessary. She watchedMr. March driving off down the road this morning with an uneasyfeeling.
"I don't know what Mr. March's got in his head," she said to Mrs.Plummer; "but I think he is going to do something rash. He looks aschildren do when they are in some secret mischief."
"Why, what could it be?" said good Mrs. Plummer. "I don't see whatthere is for him to do."
"Well, we shall see," said Mrs. March. "I wish I'd made him take mealong."
"Made him!" exclaimed Mrs. Plummer. "Can you make him do any thinghe's sot not to? I hain't never been able to do that with Mr.Plummer, not once in all the thirty years I've lived with him. It'salways seemed to me that men was the obstinatest critters made, eventhe best on 'em; an' I'm sure Mr. Plummer's as good a man's ever wasborn; but I don't no more think o' movin' him if his mind's made up,than I should think o' movin' that rock up there," pointing to ahuge rock which was at the top of one of the hills to the southwestof the house.
The day flew by quickly in putting their new home in order. BothMrs. March and Mrs. Plummer worked very hard, and Rob and Nellyhelped them. They swept and washed floors; they washed windows; theywashed even the chairs and tables,--which sadly needed it, it mustbe owned. Rob and Nelly enjoyed it all as a frolic.
"This is like last Christmas, when Sarah was drunk: isn't it,mamma?" said Rob. "It's real fun."
"Don't you wish Sarah was here to help you, mamma?" said Nelly.
"No, dear," replied Mrs. March, "I do not. I would rather do all thework ourselves, and save the money."
"Are we very, very, very poor, mamma?" said Nelly, with a distressedface.
"Oh, no, dear! not so bad as that," laughed Mrs. March; "but papa'ssalary has all stopped now, as I explained to you; and that was thegreater part of our income: and, till we have more money coming inregularly from something out here, we must spend just as little aspossible."
Just before dinner, Rob came in with a big armful of kindling-wood,and on the top of the wood he carried a long piece of a beautifulgreen vine.
"Oh, Rob, Rob, let me see that! Where did you find it?" said hismother.
"Upon the hills, mamma, back of the saw-mill. There's oceans of itup there."
"There _is_ oceans, Rob?" said his mother.
"There _are_ oceans, then! You knew what I meant. It's just like acarpet; and you can pull up great, long pieces of it: it comes upjust as easy as any thing."
Mrs. March turned the vine over and over in her hands. It had asmall glossy leaf, like the leaf of the box. Some of the long,slender tendrils of it were bright red.
"The leaf is so thick I think it would keep a long time," said Mrs.March. "I wish you and Nelly would bring me several armfuls of it.I'll tack it up all round the room: the walls won't look so bare,then."
"Oh, goody!" said the children; "that's just like Christmas." Andthey ran off as fast as they could go. In an hour they had heapedthe whole floor with piles of the vine. The more they brought, themore beautiful it looked: the leaves shone like satin, and therewere great mats of it nearly two yards long. Mrs. March had neverseen it before, and did not know its name. Afterward she found outthat it was the kinnikinnick vine, and that the Indians used it tosmoke in their pipes. Some of the branches had beautiful little redberries like wintergreen berries on them. Nelly sorted these allout by themselves; then Mrs. March stood up on a chair, and some ofthe time on a table, and nailed a thick border of these vines allround the top of the room; then she took the branches which had redberries on them; and, wherever there was an upright beam in thewall, she nailed on one of these boughs with the red berries and letit hang down just as it would. Then she trimmed the fireplace andthe door and the windows. It took her about two hours to do it. Whenit was all done, you would hardly have known the room. It lookedlovely: the yellow pine boards looked much prettier with the greenof the vines than any paper in the world could have looked. Rob andNelly fairly danced with delight.
"Oh, mamma! mamma! it's prettier than any Christmas we ever had:isn't it?"
"Yes," said Mrs. March; "if the vines will only last, it is all weneed to keep our walls pretty till summer time."
"Well, I never!" said Zeb, who came in at that moment. "If wimmenfolks don't beat all! Why, mum, ye look's if you was goin' to havean ice-cream festival."
Zeb's only experience of rooms decorated with green vines had beenwhen he had attended ice-cream festivals, given by churches to raisemoney.
"Well, we'll have one some day, Zeb," said Mrs. March, laughing;"and we won't charge you any thing. I can make very good ice-cream."
"Oh, to-night! to-night! mamma," exclaimed the children.
"Can't to-night," Mrs. March said; "for the freezer's in the big boxwith all the other kitchen things."
"I might make some crullers," said Mrs. Plummer.
"Do! do! do!" cried Rob. "Mrs. Plummer's famous for crullers!" Andhe ran off, singing--
"Plummer! Cruller! Plummer! Cruller!"
at the top of his lungs.
It was nearly dark before Mr. March returned. Rob was the first tospy him.
"Why, there's Pumpkinseed!" he exclaimed. "And what in the world'spapa got in the wagon?" And he ran down the road to meet him. Allthe others ran too. The wagon did indeed present a very singularappearance. Four red wooden legs stuck far out in front; Mr. Marchwas wedged in between them; high above his head bulged out a greatroll of bolsters and pillows; and as far as you could see, away backin the wagon, there seemed to be nothing but bed-ticking, and legsof furniture.
"Mercy on us!" exclaimed Mrs. March; "What did I tell you, Mrs.Plummer? That's what he went off for,--to buy furniture. Mr. Marchalways must have things just right. Dear me! I wish he hadn't doneit."
But, as I told you long ago, it was Mrs. March's way always to makethe best of what couldn't be helped. So she went forward to welcomeher husband as pleasantly as if she were delighted to see all thisnew furniture.
"Ah, Robert," she said, "now I know why you wouldn't take me. Youwanted to surprise us all."
"Yes," said Mr. March, his face beaming all over with satisfaction,"I didn't mean you should spend another night in such a desolatehole. There's another wagon load behind."
At this Mrs. March could not help groaning.
"Oh, Robert! Robert!" she said, "what did you buy so much for?"
"Oh, part of the other load is feed for the cattle," said Mr.March. "That I'm responsible to Deacon Plummer for. Those were hisorders."
When the two wagons were unloaded, the space in front of the littlehouse looked like an auction. Rob and Nelly ran from one thing toanother, exclaiming and shouting. Mr. March had indeed furnished thewhole house.
He had bought two pretty little single bedsteads forRob and Nelly, and a fine large bedstead for himself and Mrs. March;he had bought mattresses and pillows and bolsters and blankets; awhole piece of pretty rag-carpet, in gray and red stripes; two largerocking-chairs with arms, two without, and two small low chairs; awork-table with drawers, two bureaus, a wardrobe, and two sets ofbook-shelves to hang on the walls; two student lamps, and a tablewith leaves that could open out. Then he had bought a whole piece ofpretty chintz in stripes of black and green.
"There, wife," he said, as he showed her this, last of all, "now wecan make a decent little home out of it, after a few days."
As he spoke, he stepped into the kitchen: he started back withsurprise.
"Why, how perfectly lovely!" he exclaimed; "where did you get it?And what is it? I never saw a place so transformed. Why, it lookseven elegant."
"I thought you would like it," said Mrs. March, much pleased."Perhaps if you had seen it so before you went away, you wouldn'thave bought so many new things."
"Why, Sarah, I haven't bought a thing that wasn't absolutelynecessary," said Mr. March.
"They are all very nice, dear," replied Mrs. March; "and of coursewe shall be much more comfortable with them. It was very kind ofyou. But haven't you spent a great deal of money?" she askedanxiously.
"Oh, no!" said Mr. March, "I think not; though things are muchhigher here than at home. I didn't get the bills; but I don'tbelieve it's over two hundred dollars."
This seemed a great deal to Mrs. March; but she said no more. Andthe next day, when all the things were arranged, a square of therag-carpet laid on the floor, and the pretty chintz curtains at thewindow, she could not help admitting to herself that life lookedmuch easier and pleasanter than it had before.
"And I ought to be thankful that he did not buy more," she thought;"and that he could not find a servant to bring out here."
On inquiring after servants, Mr. March had found that it was almostimpossible to get any good ones; and their wages were so high, hehad at once given up all idea of hiring one now.
"I'll let you try it, Sarah, for the present," he said, "but, if Isee you in the least breaking down, I shall have a servant, if Ihave to send home for one."
"I won't break down," said Mrs. March; "I never felt so well in mylife. I am never tired. I suppose it is the air."
"Yes," said Mr. March; "it must be. I, too, feel like another man. Ican draw such full, long breaths; I shouldn't know there was such athing as asthma in the world."
As day after day went on, they all came to like their new homebetter and better. The little room which had been a lumber room wasmade into a sitting-room, and trimmed all round with thekinnikinnick vines; the big table with leaves stood in the centre,and the book-shelves hung on the walls. Zeb and Deacon Plummer builtpine shelves across one end of the room, way to the top; these werefilled with Mr. March's books. There were two small school-desks bythe east window; and at these Rob and Nelly sat for two hours everymorning, and studied and recited their lessons to Mr. March. In theafternoon, they played out of doors; they climbed the hills and therocks; and, at four o'clock, they went after the cows. This wassomething they were never tired of, because they never knew justwhere they should find the cows: they rambled into so many littlenooks and corners among the hills; but three of the cows had bellson their necks, and the rest never went far from them. Watch alwayswent with Rob and Nelly, and he seemed to have a wonderful instinctto tell where to look for a cow. Whenever it stormed too much forthe children to be out, Zeb went. Sometimes Watch went all alone. Hecould bring the cows home as well as anybody. But Nelly and Robnever liked to miss it. It was the great pleasure of their day; andthe out-door air and the exercise were making them brown and strong.They looked like little Italian peasant children: wherever they wentthey sang; up hill and down, and on the tops of the highest rocks,their merry voices rang out. Felix--that Frenchman I told you aboutthat they saw in the cars, the one who was servant to the Englishgentleman--had taught Rob how to make the cry which the Swisshunters make in the Alps. It is called the "Jodel"--and it soundsvery fine among high hill-tops. It is something like this:--
_He would ring out such a "jodel", that the peoplewould stop and look up amazed. Page 132._]
"Yo-ho! yo-ho! yo-ho!" The syllables are pronounced one after theother just as fast as you can, in a high shrill tone, and there is asort of tune to it which I could not describe; but perhaps you knowsome traveller who has been in Switzerland, who can describe it toyou. Rob used to "jodel" beautifully; and many a time when he was ona high rock, way up above the road, and saw people riding or drivingbelow him, he would ring out such a "jodel," that the people wouldstop and look up amazed. They could not believe they were inAmerica. Rob was fast growing as strong and well as Nelly. Henever had sore throats here: and Mr. and Mrs. March often said thatthey would be glad they had come to Colorado, if it were for nothingexcept that it had made Rob so well. As he grew stronger, he grew tobe a much better boy. He was not selfish nor cross as he used to beat home; and he was as full of fun as a squirrel, all day long. Onething he very much enjoyed doing, was taking Fox and Pumpkinseed upto the tops of the high hills to graze. The best grass grew veryhigh up on the hills; but neither Fox nor Pumpkinseed had ever beenused to such steep hills, and they both hated to climb them. DeaconPlummer was very droll about it. "Don't blame 'em," said he, "don'tblame 'em a mite. Who'd want to be for ever climbing up garret toget a mouthful of something to eat?" However, since the food waschiefly "up garret," as the Deacon called it, "up garret" the horsesmust go; and it was somebody's duty every morning to lead them up.Often, in the course of the day, they would ramble slowly down: thenthey would have to be taken up again; and Rob was always on thelookout for a chance to do this. He always took Fox; he was easierto lead than Pumpkinseed. You had to lead only one: the other wouldfollow; and it was a funny sight to see Rob way up on the steephill, tugging away at Fox's halter, and Fox half holding back, halfgoing along, and Pumpkinseed behind, following on slowly with a mostdisgusted expression, every now and then stopping short and lookingup at Rob and Fox, as much as to say, "Oh, dear! why will you dragus up this horrible hill?"
The hill opposite the house was so high that when Rob was at thevery top of it with the horses, he didn't look bigger than a"Hop-o'-my-thumb," and the horses looked like goats. After he gotthem fairly up, and saw them grazing contentedly, Rob would run downthe hill at full speed. At first he got many a tumble flat on hisnose doing this; but after a while he learned how to slant his bodybackwards, and then he did not tumble.
But while Rob and Nelly were growing well and strong, and havingsuch a good time that they never wanted to go back to Mayfield, I amsorry to say that the grown people were not so contented. In thefirst place, good old Mrs. Plummer could not sleep. Her cough wasall gone; and if she could only have slept, she would have been aswell as anybody; but her heart beat too fast all the time, and kepther awake at night. She did not know that she had any trouble withher heart when she was at home; and nobody had told them that peoplewith heart-trouble could not live in Colorado: but that is the case;the air which is so pure and dry is also so light that it makes yourpulse beat a good many times more a minute, and it takes a goodstrong heart to bear this. You know your heart is nothing but a pumpthat pumps blood to go through your veins, just as water goesthrough pipes all over a house; and the pump has to be very strongto pump so many strokes a minute as it does in Colorado. So poorMrs. Plummer, instead of growing better, was growing worse; and thismade them all unhappy.
Then Deacon Plummer and Mr. March had to acknowledge that they werepaying out more money than they took in, and this worried them both.
"We've got to get out on't somehow, that's clear and sartin," saidthe Deacon. "It won't take very long at this rate to clear us bothout. I hate to give up. I'm sure there must be better places in thecountry somewhere for stock raisin' than this is; but we won't stirtill warm weather sets in. Then we'll look round."
The l
ast week in April and the first in May were hard weeks.Snow-storm after snow-storm fell. At one time, all travel throughthe Pass was cut off for two days. The snow lay in great drifts inthe narrowest places. In such weather as this, all the cattle had tobe kept in the barns and yards, and fed; hay was very dear; and asDeacon Plummer said, "It don't take a critter very long to eat hisown head off, and after it's eaten it off six times over, its head'son all the same for you to keep a feedin'."
When June came in, matters brightened. The cows had plenty of grass,gave good milk, and Mrs. March and Mrs. Plummer made a good manypounds of butter each week, which they sold at Manitou withoutdifficulty. Here at last was a regular source of income; but it wassmall: "a mere drop in the bucket," Mrs. March said when she wastalking over matters with Mrs. Plummer. I must tell you how thisbutter was made, because it was such a pleasure to Rob and Nelly towatch it. It was made in a little shed which joined on to the oldsaw-mill, and the old saw-mill wheel did the churning. Wasn't that afunny way? We must give Zeb the credit of this. He was turning thegrindstone one day for Deacon Plummer to sharpen up his axes. It isvery hard work to turn a grindstone, and Zeb was very tired beforethe axes were half ground. Suddenly the thought popped into hishead, "Why shouldn't I make that old water-wheel turn thisgrindstone for us?" After dinner he went up to the saw-mill andlooked at it. There was the old wooden wheel as good as ever; thegate which had shut the water off and let it on was gone; "butthat's easy fixed," said Zeb, and to work he went; and beforesundown, he had the water-wheel bobbing round again as fast as needbe. The next day he took the grindstone and sunk it in between twoold timbers in a broken place in the floor, just back of the wheel;then he put a strap round the grindstone and fastened it to thewater-wheel; then he pulled up the little gate, and let the water inthe water-wheel. Hurrah! round went the water-wheel, and round wentthe grindstone keeping exact pace with it! Zeb clapped his knee,which was the same thing as if he had patted himself on theshoulder. "Good for you, Abe Mack!" he said. Then he looked aroundfrightened, to see if anybody had heard him. No one was near. Hedrew a long breath. "Lord!" he said; "to think o' my saying thatname out loud after all this time!" and he wiped his forehead withthe back of his hand. "I'd better be more keerful than that," hesaid. "I'll get tracked yet, if I don't look out." Two years before,in a fight in a mining town a great many miles north of his presenthome, Zeb had had the misfortune to kill a man. He never intended todo such a thing. He really drew his pistol in self-defence; but hecould not prove this, and he had fled for his life, and had beenever since living hidden away on this lonely farm in the mountains.He had intended to go still farther away where there would be nopossibility of his ever being seen by any of the men who had knownhim before, but he had fallen so in love with these hills he couldnot tear himself away from them. But he had never told his true nameto any one, and when he pronounced it now the sound of it frightenedhim almost as if it had been a sheriff who was calling him by it.
After dinner, Zeb invited the whole family out to see his newwater-works. They all looked on with interest and pleasure. Mr.March had often looked at the old mill and wished he had moneyenough to put it in order.
"Well done, Zeb!" he said. "You've turned the old thing to someaccount, haven't you? That's a capital idea; we'll grind knives andaxes now for anybody who comes along."
"Zeb," said Mrs. March, "can't you make it churn the butter foryou?"
Zeb was struck by the idea.
"Lor, ma'am," he said; "I never heard o' such a thing! but I don'tknow why not. I'll try it, sure's my name's--" he stopped short, andgasped out "Zebulon Craig."
No one observed his agitation. They were all too busy watching thegrindstone and water-wheel. The next day and the next, Zeb was seensteadily at work in the saw-mill. He would not let the children staywith him.
"Run away! run away!" he said. "I've got a job o' thinkin' to do:can't think with you youngsters a lookin' on."
Rob and Nelly were almost beside themselves with curiosity.
"Zeb's making a churn to go by water like the grindstone: I know heis," said Rob. "It's real mean for him not to let us see."
"But, Rob," said the wise Nelly, "he says he can't think if we'reround. He'll show it to us's soon's it's done."
"I don't care," said Rob; "I want to see how he does it;" and Robhovered round the mill perpetually, much to Zeb's vexation.
Late in the second afternoon, Zeb called out:--
"Rob, go fetch me the churn, will you?"
Rob was only too happy to be admitted into the partnership on anyterms. The churn was quite heavy, but he rolled it and tugged it tothe shed-door. Zeb lifted it over the threshold: and then Rob sawthat there was a long slender beam fastened to the water-wheel, andreaching half way across the wall of the shed; an upright beam wasfastened to this, a hole was cut in the shed wall, and another beamrun through this hole, and fastened to the upright beam on the otherside. When the water-wheel turned round and round, it made thisupright beam go up and down. Zeb took the dasher of the churn andfastened it to this beam: up and down, up and down it went, fasterthan anybody could churn.
"Tain't quite long enough," said Zeb. "We'll have to stand the churnon something." Then he ran back to the house and asked Mrs. Plummerfor some cream. She gave him about three gallons; he put it into thechurn, raised the churn a little higher, and set the machinery inmotion. In about ten minutes he looked in.
"It's comin'! it's comin'!" he cried. "Run, call all the folks,Rob."
Rob ran, and in a few minutes the whole family were looking on atthis new mode of churning. It worked beautifully; in fifteen minutesmore the butter was made.
"There!" said Zeb, as he drew up the dasher with great solid lumpsof butter sticking to it. "If that ain't the easiest churned threegallons o' cream ever I see!"
"Yes, indeed, Zeb," said Mrs. March, "it is. We sha'n't dreadchurning-day any more."
Mr. March examined the machinery curiously. "Zeb," he said, "if wehad two good iron wheels we could make shingles here, couldn't we? Ibelieve it would pay to rig the old place up again."
"Yes, sir," said Zeb. "There's nothin' ye can't make with such astream o' water's that if ye've got the machinery to put it to. It'sonly the machinery that's wantin'. We've got water power enough hereto run a factory."
You would not have thought so to look at it; the water did not comeright out of the brook; it came through a wooden pipe, high up onwooden posts. It was taken out of the brook a mile or two farther upthe Pass, where the ground was a great deal higher than it was hereat the mill. So it came running all the way down through this pipe,high up above the brook, and when it was let out it fell with greatforce. The pipe was quite old now, and it leaked in many places; inone place there was such a big leak it made a little waterfall; thiswater dripping and falling into the brook beneath made it sound likea shower, and all the bushes and green things along the edges of thebrook were dripping wet all the time. There was a big pile of theold sawdust on the edge of the brook; this was of a bright yellowcolor: the old saw-mill had fallen so into decay that three sides ofit were open, and it looked hardly safe to go into it. You had tostep carefully from one beam to another: there was not much of thefloor left. But it was a lovely, cool, shady place, and almost everyday some of the teamsters who were driving heavy teams through thePass would stop here to take their lunch at noon: often Rob andNelly would go out and talk with them, and carry them milk to drink.Zeb kept out of sight at such times. He was always in fear of beingseen by somebody who had known him in the northern country.
As the summer came on, all sorts of beautiful flowers appeared alongthe edges of the brook, in the open clearings, and even in thecrevices of the rocks. Nelly gathered great bunches of them everymorning. She loved flowers almost as well as she loved mountains.She used to go out late in the afternoon and gather a huge basketfulof all the kinds she could find,--red and white, and yellow andblue,--then she would set the basket in the brook and let the waterrun through it all night, keeping the s
tems of the flowers very wet.In the morning they would look as fresh as if she had just pickedthem. Remember this, all of you little children who love flowers andlike to pick them. If you pick them in the morning, they will witherand never revive perfectly, no matter how much water you put themin. Pick them at sundown, and leave them in a great tub full ofwater out of doors all night, and in the morning you can arrangethem in bouquets, and they will keep twice as long as they would ifyou had not left them out of doors all night. Nelly used to sit onthe ground in the open space west of the saw-mill and arrange herbouquets; sometimes she would tie up as many as eight or ten in onemorning, and sometimes travellers driving past would call to her andask her to sell them: but Nelly would not sell them; she always gavethem away to anybody who loved flowers. Rob thought she was veryfoolish. "Nell, why didn't you take the money?" he would say. "It'sjust the same to sell flowers as milk: isn't it?"
"No," said Nelly, "I don't think it is. The flowers are not ours."
"Whose are they?" exclaimed Rob.
"God's," said Nelly, soberly. Rob could not appreciate Nelly'sfeeling.
"Well, what makes you steal 'em, then?" he asked, in a satiricaltone.
"God likes to have us pick them: I know he does," said Nelly,earnestly. "He gives them all to us for every summer as long as welive."
"Oh, pshaw, Nell!" said Rob. "He don't do any such thing. They justgrow: that's all."
"Well, papa says that God makes them grow on purpose for us to seehow pretty they are. They aren't of any other use: they aren't thesame as potatoes. And don't you know the little verse,--
"'God might have made the earth bring forth Enough for great and small; The oak tree and the cedar tree, Without a flower at all.'
"I'm always thinking of that. 'Twould be horrid here if we didn'thave any thing but things to eat."