TENNESSEE'S PARTNER
I do not think that we ever knew his real name. Our ignorance of itcertainly never gave us any social inconvenience, for at Sandy Bar in1854 most men were christened anew. Sometimes these appellatives werederived from some distinctiveness of dress, as in the case of "DungareeJack"; or from some peculiarity of habit, as shown in "Saleratus Bill,"so called from an undue proportion of that chemical in his daily bread;or for some unlucky slip, as exhibited in "The Iron Pirate," a mild,inoffensive man, who earned that baleful title by his unfortunatemispronunciation of the term "iron pyrites." Perhaps this may have beenthe beginning of a rude heraldry; but I am constrained to think thatit was because a man's real name in that day rested solely upon his ownunsupported statement. "Call yourself Clifford, do you?" said Boston,addressing a timid newcomer with infinite scorn; "hell is full of suchCliffords!" He then introduced the unfortunate man, whose name happenedto be really Clifford, as "Jay-bird Charley"--an unhallowed inspirationof the moment that clung to him ever after.
But to return to Tennessee's Partner, whom we never knew by any otherthan this relative title; that he had ever existed as a separate anddistinct individuality we only learned later. It seems that in 1853 heleft Poker Flat to go to San Francisco, ostensibly to procure a wife. Henever got any farther than Stockton. At that place he was attracted bya young person who waited upon the table at the hotel where he took hismeals. One morning he said something to her which caused her to smilenot unkindly, to somewhat coquettishly break a plate of toast overhis upturned, serious, simple face, and to retreat to the kitchen. Hefollowed her, and emerged a few moments later, covered with more toastand victory. That day week they were married by a justice of the peace,and returned to Poker Flat. I am aware that something more might bemade of this episode, but I prefer to tell it as it was current at SandyBar--in the gulches and barrooms--where all sentiment was modified by astrong sense of humor.
Of their married felicity but little is known, perhaps for the reasonthat Tennessee, then living with his Partner, one day took occasion tosay something to the bride on his own account, at which, it is said,she smiled not unkindly and chastely retreated--this time as faras Marysville, where Tennessee followed her, and where they went tohousekeeping without the aid of a justice of the peace. Tennessee'sPartner took the loss of his wife simply and seriously, as was hisfashion. But to everybody's surprise, when Tennessee one day returnedfrom Marysville, without his Partner's wife--she having smiled andretreated with somebody else--Tennessee's Partner was the first man toshake his hand and greet him with affection. The boys who had gatheredin the canyon to see the shooting were naturally indignant. Theirindignation might have found vent in sarcasm but for a certain lookin Tennessee's Partner's eye that indicated a lack of humorousappreciation. In fact, he was a grave man, with a steady application topractical detail which was unpleasant in a difficulty.
Meanwhile a popular feeling against Tennessee had grown up on the Bar.He was known to be a gambler; he was suspected to be a thief. In thesesuspicions Tennessee's Partner was equally compromised; his continuedintimacy with Tennessee after the affair above quoted could only beaccounted for on the hypothesis of a copartnership of crime. At lastTennessee's guilt became flagrant. One day he overtook a stranger on hisway to Red Dog. The stranger afterward related that Tennessee beguiledthe time with interesting anecdote and reminiscence, but illogicallyconcluded the interview in the following words: "And now, young man,I'll trouble you for your knife, your pistols, and your money. You seeyour weppings might get you into trouble at Red Dog, and your money's atemptation to the evilly disposed. I think you said your address wasSan Francisco. I shall endeavor to call." It may be stated here thatTennessee had a fine flow of humor, which no business preoccupationcould wholly subdue.
This exploit was his last. Red Dog and Sandy Bar made common causeagainst the highwayman. Tennessee was hunted in very much the samefashion as his prototype, the grizzly. As the toils closed around him,he made a desperate dash through the Bar, emptying his revolver at thecrowd before the Arcade Saloon, and so on up Grizzly Canyon; but at itsfarther extremity he was stopped by a small man on a gray horse. Themen looked at each other a moment in silence. Both were fearless, bothself-possessed and independent; and both types of a civilization thatin the seventeenth century would have been called heroic, but, in thenineteenth, simply "reckless." "What have you got there?--I call,"said Tennessee, quietly. "Two bowers and an ace," said the stranger,as quietly, showing two revolvers and a bowie knife. "That takes me,"returned Tennessee; and with this gamblers' epigram, he threw away hisuseless pistol, and rode back with his captor.
It was a warm night. The cool breeze which usually sprang up with thegoing down of the sun behind the chaparral-crested mountain was thatevening withheld from Sandy Bar. The little canyon was stifling withheated resinous odors, and the decaying driftwood on the Bar sent forthfaint, sickening exhalations. The feverishness of day, and its fiercepassions, still filled the camp. Lights moved restlessly along the bankof the river, striking no answering reflection from its tawny current.Against the blackness of the pines the windows of the old loft above theexpress office stood out staringly bright; and through their curtainlesspanes the loungers below could see the forms of those who were even thendeciding the fate of Tennessee. And above all this, etched on the darkfirmament, rose the Sierra, remote and passionless, crowned with remoterpassionless stars.
The trial of Tennessee was conducted as fairly as was consistent with ajudge and jury who felt themselves to some extent obliged to justify, intheir verdict, the previous irregularities of arrest and indictment. Thelaw of Sandy Bar was implacable, but not vengeful. The excitement andpersonal feeling of the chase were over; with Tennessee safe in theirhands they were ready to listen patiently to any defense, which theywere already satisfied was insufficient. There being no doubt in theirown minds, they were willing to give the prisoner the benefit of anythat might exist. Secure in the hypothesis that he ought to be hanged,on general principles, they indulged him with more latitude of defensethan his reckless hardihood seemed to ask. The Judge appeared to be moreanxious than the prisoner, who, otherwise unconcerned, evidently tooka grim pleasure in the responsibility he had created. "I don't take anyhand in this yer game," had been his invariable but good-humored replyto all questions. The Judge--who was also his captor--for a momentvaguely regretted that he had not shot him "on sight" that morning,but presently dismissed this human weakness as unworthy of the judicialmind. Nevertheless, when there was a tap at the door, and it was saidthat Tennessee's Partner was there on behalf of the prisoner, he wasadmitted at once without question. Perhaps the younger members of thejury, to whom the proceedings were becoming irksomely thoughtful, hailedhim as a relief.
For he was not, certainly, an imposing figure. Short and stout, with asquare face sunburned into a preternatural redness, clad in a loose duck"jumper" and trousers streaked and splashed with red soil, his aspectunder any circumstances would have been quaint, and was now evenridiculous. As he stooped to deposit at his feet a heavy carpetbag hewas carrying, it became obvious, from partially developed legends andinscriptions, that the material with which his trousers had been patchedhad been originally intended for a less ambitious covering. Yet headvanced with great gravity, and after having shaken the hand of eachperson in the room with labored cordiality, he wiped his serious,perplexed face on a red bandanna handkerchief, a shade lighter than hiscomplexion, laid his powerful hand upon the table to steady himself, andthus addressed the Judge:
"I was passin' by," he began, by way of apology, "and I thought I'djust step in and see how things was gittin' on with Tennessee thar--mypardner. It's a hot night. I disremember any sich weather before on theBar."
He paused a moment, but nobody volunteering any other meteorologicalrecollection, he again had recourse to his pocket handkerchief, and forsome moments mopped his face diligently.
"Have you anything to say in behalf of the prisoner?" said the Judge,finally.
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br /> "Thet's it," said Tennessee's Partner, in a tone of relief. "I come yaras Tennessee's pardner--knowing him nigh on four year, off and on, wetand dry, in luck and out o' luck. His ways ain't allers my ways, butthar ain't any p'ints in that young man, thar ain't any livelinessas he's been up to, as I don't know. And you sez to me, sezyou--confidential-like, and between man and man--sez you, 'Do you knowanything in his behalf?' and I sez to you, sez I--confidential-like, asbetween man and man--'What should a man know of his pardner?'"
"Is this all you have to say?" asked the Judge impatiently, feeling,perhaps, that a dangerous sympathy of humor was beginning to humanizethe Court.
"Thet's so," continued Tennessee's Partner. "It ain't for me to sayanything agin' him. And now, what's the case? Here's Tennessee wantsmoney, wants it bad, and doesn't like to ask it of his old pardner.Well, what does Tennessee do? He lays for a stranger, and he fetchesthat stranger. And you lays for HIM, and you fetches HIM; and thehonors is easy. And I put it to you, bein' a far-minded man, and to you,gentlemen, all, as far-minded men, ef this isn't so."
"Prisoner," said the Judge, interrupting, "have you any questions to askthis man?"
"No! no!" continued Tennessee's Partner, hastily. "I play this yer handalone. To come down to the bedrock, it's just this: Tennessee, thar, hasplayed it pretty rough and expensive-like on a stranger, and on this yercamp. And now, what's the fair thing? Some would say more; somewould say less. Here's seventeen hundred dollars in coarse gold and awatch--it's about all my pile--and call it square!" And before a handcould be raised to prevent him, he had emptied the contents of thecarpetbag upon the table.
For a moment his life was in jeopardy. One or two men sprang to theirfeet, several hands groped for hidden weapons, and a suggestion to"throw him from the window" was only overridden by a gesture from theJudge. Tennessee laughed. And apparently oblivious of the excitement,Tennessee's Partner improved the opportunity to mop his face again withhis handkerchief.
When order was restored, and the man was made to understand, by the useof forcible figures and rhetoric, that Tennessee's offense could not becondoned by money, his face took a more serious and sanguinary hue,and those who were nearest to him noticed that his rough hand trembledslightly on the table. He hesitated a moment as he slowly returned thegold to the carpetbag, as if he had not yet entirely caught the elevatedsense of justice which swayed the tribunal, and was perplexed with thebelief that he had not offered enough. Then he turned to the Judge, andsaying, "This yer is a lone hand, played alone, and without my pardner,"he bowed to the jury and was about to withdraw when the Judge called himback. "If you have anything to say to Tennessee, you had better say itnow." For the first time that evening the eyes of the prisoner and hisstrange advocate met. Tennessee smiled, showed his white teeth, and,saying, "Euchred, old man!" held out his hand. Tennessee's Partner tookit in his own, and saying, "I just dropped in as I was passin' to seehow things was gettin' on," let the hand passively fall, and adding thatit was a warm night, again mopped his face with his handkerchief, andwithout another word withdrew.
The two men never again met each other alive. For the unparalleledinsult of a bribe offered to Judge Lynch--who, whether bigoted, weak,or narrow, was at least incorruptible--firmly fixed in the mind of thatmythical personage any wavering determination of Tennessee's fate; andat the break of day he was marched, closely guarded, to meet it at thetop of Marley's Hill.
How he met it, how cool he was, how he refused to say anything, howperfect were the arrangements of the committee, were all duly reported,with the addition of a warning moral and example to all futureevildoers, in the RED DOG CLARION, by its editor, who was present, andto whose vigorous English I cheerfully refer the reader. But the beautyof that midsummer morning, the blessed amity of earth and air and sky,the awakened life of the free woods and hills, the joyous renewal andpromise of Nature, and above all, the infinite Serenity that thrilledthrough each, was not reported, as not being a part of the sociallesson. And yet, when the weak and foolish deed was done, and a life,with its possibilities and responsibilities, had passed out of themisshapen thing that dangled between earth and sky, the birds sang, theflowers bloomed, the sun shone, as cheerily as before; and possibly theRED DOG CLARION was right.
Tennessee's Partner was not in the group that surrounded the ominoustree. But as they turned to disperse attention was drawn to the singularappearance of a motionless donkey cart halted at the side of the road.As they approached, they at once recognized the venerable "Jenny" andthe two-wheeled cart as the property of Tennessee's Partner--used by himin carrying dirt from his claim; and a few paces distant the ownerof the equipage himself, sitting under a buckeye tree, wiping theperspiration from his glowing face. In answer to an inquiry, he said hehad come for the body of the "diseased," "if it was all the same to thecommittee." He didn't wish to "hurry anything"; he could "wait." Hewas not working that day; and when the gentlemen were done with the"diseased," he would take him. "Ef thar is any present," he added, inhis simple, serious way, "as would care to jine in the fun'l, theykin come." Perhaps it was from a sense of humor, which I have alreadyintimated was a feature of Sandy Bar--perhaps it was from something evenbetter than that; but two-thirds of the loungers accepted the invitationat once.
It was noon when the body of Tennessee was delivered into the hands ofhis Partner. As the cart drew up to the fatal tree, we noticed thatit contained a rough, oblong box--apparently made from a section ofsluicing and half-filled with bark and the tassels of pine. The cart wasfurther decorated with slips of willow, and made fragrant with buckeyeblossoms. When the body was deposited in the box, Tennessee's Partnerdrew over it a piece of tarred canvas, and gravely mounting the narrowseat in front, with his feet upon the shafts, urged the little donkeyforward. The equipage moved slowly on, at that decorous pace whichwas habitual with "Jenny" even under less solemn circumstances. Themen--half curiously, half jestingly, but all good-humoredly--strolledalong beside the cart; some in advance, some a little in the rear of thehomely catafalque. But, whether from the narrowing of the road or somepresent sense of decorum, as the cart passed on, the company fell to therear in couples, keeping step, and otherwise assuming the external showof a formal procession. Jack Folinsbee, who had at the outset played afuneral march in dumb show upon an imaginary trombone, desisted, froma lack of sympathy and appreciation--not having, perhaps, your truehumorist's capacity to be content with the enjoyment of his own fun.
The way led through Grizzly Canyon--by this time clothed in funerealdrapery and shadows. The redwoods, burying their moccasined feet inthe red soil, stood in Indian file along the track, trailing an uncouthbenediction from their bending boughs upon the passing bier. A hare,surprised into helpless inactivity, sat upright and pulsating in theferns by the roadside as the cortege went by. Squirrels hastened to gaina secure outlook from higher boughs; and the bluejays, spreading theirwings, fluttered before them like outriders, until the outskirts ofSandy Bar were reached, and the solitary cabin of Tennessee's Partner.
Viewed under more favorable circumstances, it would not have been acheerful place. The unpicturesque site, the rude and unlovely outlines,the unsavory details, which distinguish the nest-building of theCalifornia miner, were all here, with the dreariness of decaysuperadded. A few paces from the cabin there was a rough enclosure,which in the brief days of Tennessee's Partner's matrimonial felicityhad been used as a garden, but was now overgrown with fern. As weapproached it we were surprised to find that what we had taken for arecent attempt at cultivation was the broken soil about an open grave.
The cart was halted before the enclosure; and rejecting the offers ofassistance with the same air of simple self-reliance he had displayedthroughout, Tennessee's Partner lifted the rough coffin on his back anddeposited it, unaided, within the shallow grave. He then nailed downthe board which served as a lid; and mounting the little mound ofearth beside it, took off his hat, and slowly mopped his face with hishandkerchief. This the crowd felt was a preliminary to speec
h; and theydisposed themselves variously on stumps and boulders, and sat expectant.
"When a man," began Tennessee's Partner, slowly, "has been running freeall day, what's the natural thing for him to do? Why, to come home. Andif he ain't in a condition to go home, what can his best friend do?Why, bring him home! And here's Tennessee has been running free, and webrings him home from his wandering." He paused, and picked up a fragmentof quartz, rubbed it thoughtfully on his sleeve, and went on: "It ain'tthe first time that I've packed him on my back, as you see'd me now.It ain't the first time that I brought him to this yer cabin when hecouldn't help himself; it ain't the first time that I and 'Jinny' havewaited for him on yon hill, and picked him up and so fetched him home,when he couldn't speak, and didn't know me. And now that it's the lasttime, why"--he paused and rubbed the quartz gently on his sleeve--"yousee it's sort of rough on his pardner. And now, gentlemen," he added,abruptly, picking up his long-handled shovel, "the fun'l's over; and mythanks, and Tennessee's thanks, to you for your trouble."
Resisting any proffers of assistance, he began to fill in the grave,turning his back upon the crowd that after a few moments' hesitationgradually withdrew. As they crossed the little ridge that hid SandyBar from view, some, looking back, thought they could see Tennessee'sPartner, his work done, sitting upon the grave, his shovel between hisknees, and his face buried in his red bandanna handkerchief. But it wasargued by others that you couldn't tell his face from his handkerchiefat that distance; and this point remained undecided.
In the reaction that followed the feverish excitement of that day,Tennessee's Partner was not forgotten. A secret investigation hadcleared him of any complicity in Tennessee's guilt, and left only asuspicion of his general sanity. Sandy Bar made a point of calling onhim, and proffering various uncouth, but well-meant kindnesses. But fromthat day his rude health and great strength seemed visibly to decline;and when the rainy season fairly set in, and the tiny grass-blades werebeginning to peep from the rocky mound above Tennessee's grave, he tookto his bed. One night, when the pines beside the cabin were swaying inthe storm, and trailing their slender fingers over the roof, and theroar and rush of the swollen river were heard below, Tennessee'sPartner lifted his head from the pillow, saying, "It is time to go forTennessee; I must put 'Jinny' in the cart"; and would have risen fromhis bed but for the restraint of his attendant. Struggling, he stillpursued his singular fancy: "There, now, steady, 'Jinny'--steady, oldgirl. How dark it is! Look out for the ruts--and look out for him, too,old gal. Sometimes, you know, when he's blind-drunk, he drops down rightin the trail. Keep on straight up to the pine on the top of the hill.Thar--I told you so!--thar he is--coming this way, too--all by himself,sober, and his face a-shining. Tennessee! Pardner!"
And so they met.