CHAPTER XIV.
HIS DIFFIDENCE BRINGS ABOUT AN ACCIDENT.
That was a long day for me. I could not eat the dog-bone which myPocahontas handed me, having drawn it from the kettle with her ownsweet fingers. We traveled all day; having lost their stolen horses aswell as their own ponies, the savages had to foot it back to theirtribe. I could see that they got as far away from the railroad andfrom traces of white men as possible.
It began to grow dark, and we were still plodding along. I wasfoot-sore, discouraged, and woe-begone. All the former trials of mylife, which had seemed at the time so hard to bear, now appeared likethe merest trifles.
Ah, if I were only home again! How gladly would I sit down inbutter-tubs, and spill hot tea into my lap! How joyfully would I walkup the church aisles, with my ears burning, and sit down on my newbeaver in father's pew of a Sunday. How sweet would be the suppressedgiggle of the saucy girls behind me! How easily, how almostaudaciously, would I ask Miss Miller if I might see her home! What anactive part I would take in debating societies! Vain dream! Myhideous Pocahontas marched stolidly on, dragging me like a frightenedcalf, at the rope's end. My throat was dry as ashes. I guess theredskins suffered for want of water, too. We came to a little brackishstream after sunset, and here they camped. They had taken from me MissSpitfire's revolver, or I should have shot myself.
The squaws made some suppawn in a big kettle, and my squaw brought mesome in a dirty wooden bowl. I was too homesick to eat, and thistroubled her. She tried to coax me, with atrocious grins and nods, toeat the smoking suppawn. I couldn't, and she looked unhappy.
Then something happened--something hit the bowl and sent the hot mushflying into my beauty's face, and spattering over me. At the sameinstant about twenty Indians were hit, also, and went tumbling over,with their mouths full of supper. There were yells, and jumps, and ageneral row. I jerked away from Pocahontas and ran as fast as my tiredlegs would carry me. I went toward the attacking party. It might be ofIndians too, but I didn't care. I was afraid of Pocahontas--moreafraid of her than of any braves in the world. But these invadersproved to be white men; a large party of miners going toward Pike'sPeak, by wagon instead of by the new railroad.
I threw myself on their protection. They had routed out the savages,and now took possession of their camping-ground. I passed a peacefulnight; except that my dreams were disturbed by visions of Pocahontas.In the morning my new friends proposed that I should join their party,and try my luck in the mining regions; they were positive that eachwould find more gold than he knew what to do with.
"Then you can go home and marry some pretty girl, my boy," said onefriendly fellow, slapping me on the shoulder.
"Never," I murmured. "I have no object in life, save one."
"And what is that, my young friend?"
"To go where there never has been nor never will be a woman."
"Good! the mines will be just the place then. None of the fair sexthere, my boy. You can enjoy the privilege of doing up your own linento the fullest extent. You won't have anybody to iron your collarsthere, you bet."
"Lead on--I follow!" I cried, almost like an actor on the stage.
I felt exhilarated--a wild, joyous sense of freedom. My two recentnarrow escapes added to the pleasure with which I viewed my presentprospects. This was better than sailing for some Juan Fernandez, orbeing clerk of the weather on Mount Washington. Ho! for Pike's Peak.In those high solitudes, while heaping up the yellow gold which shouldpurchase all the luxuries of life for the woman whom _sometime_ Ishould choose, I could, at the same time, be gradually overcoming myone weakness. When I did see fit to return to my native village, noman should be so calm, so cool, so self-possessed as John Flutter,Jr., mine-owner, late of the Rocky Mountains. I felt very bold overthe prospect. I was not a bit bashful just then. I joined theadventurers, paying them in money for my seat in their wagons, and myplace at their camp-table. In due time we reached the scene of action.I would not go into any of the canvas villages which had sprung uplike mushrooms. There might be a woman in some one of these places. Iwent directly into the hills, where I bought out a sick man's claim,and went to work. I blistered my white hands, but I didn't mind thatmuch--there were no blue eyes to notice the disfigurement.
I had been at work six days. I was a good young man, and I would notdig on Sunday, as some of the fellows did. I sat in the door of mylittle hut, and read an old newspaper, and thought of those far-awaydays when I used to be afraid of the girls. How glad I felt that I wasoutgrowing that folly. A shadow fell across my paper, and I glancedup. Thunder out of a clear sky could not so have astonished me. Therestood a young lady, smiling at me! None of those rough Western pioneergirls, either, but a pale, delicate, beautiful young lady, abouteighteen, with cheeks like wild roses, so faintly, softly flushedwith the fatigue of climbing, and great starry hazel eyes, and dressedin a fashionable traveling suit, made up in the latest style.
"Pardon me, sir, for startling you so," she said, pleasantly. "Can yougive me a drink of water? I have been climbing until I am thirsty.Papa is not far behind, around the rock there. I out-climbed him, yousee--as I told him I could!" and she laughed like an angel.
Yes! it was splendid to find how I had improved! I jumped to my feetand made a low bow. I wasn't red in the face--I wasn't confused--Ididn't stammer; I felt as cool as I do this moment, as I answered hercourteously:
"Cer-cer-certainly, madam--miss, I mean--you shall have a spring freshfrom me--a drink, I mean--we've a nice, cold spring in the rocks justbehind the cabin; I'll get you one in a second."
"No such _great_ hurry, sir"--another smile.
I dashed inside and brought a tin cup--my only goblet--hurried to thespring, and brought her the sparkling draught, saying, as I handed itto her:
"You must excuse the din tipper, miss."
She took it politely! and began to quaff, but from some reason shechoked and choked, and finally shook so, that she spilled the waterall over the front breadth of her gray-check silk. She was laughing atmy "din tipper," just as if the calmest people did not sometimes getthe first letters of their words mixed up.
While she giggled and pretended to cough the old gentleman came insight, puffing and blowing like a porpoise, and looking very warm. Hetold me he was "doing the mountains" for his daughter's health, andthat they were going on to California to spend the winter; ending bystating that he was thirsty too, and so fatigued with his climb thathe would be obliged to me if I would add a stick in his, if I had it.Now I kept a little whisky for medicine, and I was only too anxious tooblige the girl's father, so I darted into the cabin again and broughtout one of the two bottles which I owned--two bottles, just alike, onecontaining whisky, the other kerosene. In my confusion I--well, I wasvery hospitable, and I added as much kerosene as there was water; andwhen he had taken three large swallows, he began to spit and splutter;then to groan; then to double up on the hard rock in awfulconvulsions. I smelled the kerosene, and I felt that I had murderedhim. It had come to this at last! My bashfulness was to do worse thanurge me to suicide--it was to be the means of my causing the death ofan estimable old gentleman--her father! She began to cry and wring herhands. As yet she did not suspect me! She supposed her father hadfallen in a fit of apoplexy.
"If he dies, I will allow her always to think so," I resolved.
My eyes stuck out of my head with terror at what I had done. I wasrooted to the ground. But only for a moment. Remorse, for once, mademe self-possessed. I remembered that I had salt in the cabin. I gotsome, mixed it with water, and poured it down his throat. It had thedesired effect, soon relieving him of the poisonous dose he hadswallowed.
"Ah! you have saved my papa's life!" cried the young lady, pressing mytrembling hand.
"Saved it!" growled old Cresus, as he sat up and glared about. "Lethim alone, Imogen! He tried to poison and murder me, so as to rob meafter I was dead, and keep you prisoner, my pet. The scoundrel!"
"It was all a mistake--a wretched mistake!" I murmured.
/> He wouldn't believe me; but he was too ill to get up, as he wanted. Itried to make him more comfortable by assisting him to a seat on mykeg of blasting powder.
As he began to revive a little, he drew a cigar from his pocket, andasked me if I had a match. I had none; but there was a small fireunder my frying-pan, and I brought him a coal on a chip. Miss Imogen,when she saw the coal on the chip, began to laugh again. Thatembarrassed me. My nerves were already unstrung, and my tremblingfingers unfortunately spilled the burning ember just as the oldgentleman was about to stoop over it with his cigar. It fell betweenhis knees, onto the head of the keg, rolled over, and dropped plumbthrough the bung-hole onto the giant-powder inside.
This cured me of my bashfulness for some time, as it was over a weekbefore I came to my senses.