CHAPTER 8.
HOME WITH THE MAJOR
Ahead of them, it was Court Day in Lexington. From the town, as acentre, white turnpikes radiated in every direction like the strands ofa spider's web. Along them, on the day before, cattle, sheep, and hogshad made their slow way. Since dawn, that morning, the fine dust hadbeen rising under hoof and wheel on every one of them, for Court Day isyet the great day of every month throughout the Bluegrass. The crowdhad gone ahead of the Major and Chad. Only now and then would a laggardbuggy or carriage turn into the pike from a pasture-road orlocust-bordered avenue. Only men were occupants, for the ladies rarelygo to town on court days--and probably none would go on that day.Trouble was expected. An abolitionist, one Brutus Dean--not from theNorth, but a Kentuckian, a slave-holder and a gentleman--would probablystart a paper in Lexington to exploit his views in the heart of theBluegrass; and his quondam friends would shatter his press and tear hisoffice to pieces. So the Major told Chad, and he pointed out some"hands" at work in a field.
"An', mark my words, some day there's goin' to be the damnedest fightthe world ever saw over these very niggers. An' the day ain't so faraway."
It was noon before they reached the big cemetery on the edge ofLexington. Through a rift in the trees the Major pointed out the graveof Henry Clay, and told him about the big monument that was to bereared above his remains. The grave of Henry Clay! Chad knew all abouthim. He had heard Caleb Hazel read the great man's speeches aloud bythe hour--had heard him intoning them to himself as he walked the woodsto and fro from school. Would wonders never cease.
There seemed to be no end to the houses and streets and people in thisbig town, and Chad wondered why everybody turned to look at him andsmiled, and, later in the day, he came near getting into a fight withanother boy who seemed to be making fun of him to his companions. Hewondered at that, too, until it suddenly struck him that he saw nobodyelse carrying a rifle and wearing a coonskin cap--perhaps it was hiscap and his gun. The Major was amused and pleased, and he took acertain pride in the boy's calm indifference to the attention he wasdrawing to himself. And he enjoyed the little mystery which he and hisqueer little companion seemed to create as they drove through thestreets.
On one corner was a great hemp factory.
Through the windows Chad could see negroes, dusty as millers, bustlingabout, singing as they worked. Before the door were two men--one onhorseback. The Major drew up a moment.
"How are you, John? Howdye, Dick?" Both men answered heartily, and bothlooked at Chad--who looked intently at them--the graceful, powerful manon foot and the slender, wiry man with wonderful dark eyes on horseback.
"Pioneering, Major?" asked John Morgan.
"This is a namesake of mine from the mountains. He's come up to see thesettlements."
Richard Hunt turned on his horse. "How do you like 'em?"
"Never seed nothin' like 'em in my life," said Chad, gravely. Morganlaughed and Richard Hunt rode on with them down the street.
"Was that Captin Morgan?" asked Chad.
"Yes," said the Major. "Have you heard of him before?"
"Yes, sir. A feller on the road tol' me, if I was lookin' fer somethin'to do hyeh in Lexington to go to Captin Morgan."
The Major laughed: "That's what everybody does."
At once, the Major took the boy to an old inn and gave him a heartymeal; and while the Major attended to some business, Chad roamed thestreets.
"Don't get into trouble, my boy," said the Major, "an' come back herean hour or two by sun."
Naturally, the lad drifted where the crowd was thickest--to Cheapside.Cheapside--at once the market-place and the forum of the Bluegrass frompioneer days to the present hour--the platform that knew Clay,Crittenden, Marshall, Breckenridge, as it knows the lesser men ofto-day, who resemble those giants of old as the woodlands of theBluegrass to-day resemble the primeval forests from which they sprang.
Cheapside was thronged that morning with cattle, sheep, hogs, horses,farmers, aristocrats, negroes, poor whites. The air was a babel ofcries from auctioneers--head, shoulders, and waistband above thecrowd--and the cries of animals that were changing owners that day--oneof which might now and then be a human being. The Major was busy, andChad wandered where he pleased--keeping a sharp lookout everywhere forthe school-master, but though he asked right and left he could findnobody, to his great wonder, who knew even the master's name. In themiddle of the afternoon the country people began to leave town andCheapside was cleared, but, as Chad walked past the old inn, he saw acrowd gathered within and about the wide doors of a livery-stable, andin a circle outside that lapped half the street. The auctioneer was inplain sight above the heads of the crowd, and the horses were led outone by one from the stable. It was evidently a sale of considerablemoment, and there were horse-raisers, horse-trainers, jockeys,stable-boys, gentlemen--all eager spectators or bidders. Chad edged hisway through the outer rim of the crowd and to the edge of the sidewalk,and, when a spectator stepped down from a dry-goods box from which hehad been looking on, Chad stepped up and took his place. Straightway,he began to wish he could buy a horse and ride back to the mountains.What fun that would be, and how he would astonish the folks on KingdomCome. He had his five dollars still in his pocket, and when the firsthorse was brought out, the auctioneer raised his hammer and shouted inloud tones:
"How much am I offered for this horse?"
There was no answer, and the silence lasted so long that before he knewit Chad called out in a voice that frightened him:
"Five dollars!" Nobody heard the bid, and nobody paid any attention tohim.
"One hundred dollars," said a voice.
"One hundred and twenty-five," said another, and the horse was knockeddown for two hundred dollars.
A black stallion with curving neck and red nostrils and two white feetwalked proudly in.
"How much am I offered?"
"Five dollars," said Chad, promptly. A man who sat near heard the boyand turned to look at the little fellow, and was hardly able to believehis ears. And so it went on. Each time a horse was put up Chad shoutedout:
"Five dollars," and the crowd around him began to smile and laugh andencourage him and wait for his bid. The auctioneer, too, saw him, andentered into the fun himself, addressing himself to Chad at everyopening bid.
"Keep it up, little man," said a voice behind him. "You'll get one byand by." Chad looked around. Richard Hunt was smiling to him from hishorse on the edge of the crowd.
The last horse was a brown mare--led in by a halter. She was old and atrifle lame, and Chad, still undispirited, called out this time louderthan ever:
"Five dollars!"
He shouted out this time loudly enough to be heard by everybody, and auniversal laugh rose; then came silence, and, in that silence, animperious voice shouted back:
"Let him have her!" It was the owner of the horse who spoke--a tall manwith a noble face and long iron-gray hair. The crowd caught his mood,and as nobody wanted the old mare very much, and the owner would be thesole loser, nobody bid against him, and Chad's heart thumped when theauctioneer raised his hammer and said:
"Five dollars, five dollars--what am I offered? Five dollars, fivedollars, going at five dollars, five dollars--going at fivedollars--going--going, last bid, gentlemen!" The hammer came down witha blow that made Chad's heart jump and brought a roar of laughter fromthe crowd.
"What is the name, please?" said the auctioneer, bending forward withgreat respect and dignity toward the diminutive purchaser.
"Chad."
The auctioneer put his hand to one ear.
"I beg your pardon--Dan'l Boone did you say?"
"No!" shouted Chad indignantly--he began to feel that fun was going onat his expense. "You heerd me--CHAD."
"Ah, Mr. Chad."
Not a soul knew the boy, but they liked his spirit, and severalfollowed him when he went up and handed his five dollars and took thehalter of his new treasure trembling so that he could scarcely stand.The owner of the hor
se placed his hand on the little fellow's head.
"Wait a minute," he said, and, turning to a negro boy: "Jim, go bring abridle." The boy brought out a bridle, and the tall man slipped it onthe old mare's head, and Chad led her away--the crowd watching him.Just outside he saw the Major, whose eyes opened wide:
"Where'd you get that old horse, Chad?"
"Bought her," said Chad.
"What? What'd you give for her?"
"Five dollars."
The Major looked pained, for he thought the boy was lying, but RichardHunt called him aside and told the story of the purchase; and then howthe Major did laugh--laughed until the tears rolled down his face.
And then and there he got out of his carriage and went into a saddler'sshop and bought a brand new saddle with a red blanket, and put it onthe old mare and hoisted the boy to his seat. Chad was to have nolittle honor in his day, but he never knew a prouder moment than whenhe clutched the reins in his left hand and squeezed his short legsagainst the fat sides of that old brown mare.
He rode down the street and back again, and then the Major told him hehad better put the black boy on the mare, to ride her home ahead ofhim, and Chad reluctantly got off and saw the little darky on his newsaddle and his new horse.
"Take good keer o' that hoss, boy," he said, with a warning shake ofhis head, and again the Major roared.
First, the Major said, he would go by the old University and leave wordwith the faculty for the school-master when he should come there tomatriculate; and so, at a turnstile that led into a mighty green yardin the middle of which stood a huge gray mass of stone, the carriagestopped, and the Major got out and walked through the campus and up thegreat flight of stone steps and disappeared. The mighty columns, thestone steps--where had Chad heard of them? And then the truth flashed.This was the college of which the school-master had told him down inthe mountains, and, looking, Chad wanted to get closer.
"I wonder if it'll make any difference if I go up thar?" he said to theold driver.
"No," the old man hesitated--"no, suh, co'se not." And Chad climbed outand the old negro followed him with his eyes. He did not wholly approveof his master's picking up an unknown boy on the road. It was all rightto let him ride, but to be taking him home--old Tom shook his head.
"Jess wait till Miss Lucy sees that piece o' white trash," he said,shaking his head. Chad was walking slowly with his eyes raised. It mustbe the college where the school-master had gone to school--for thebuilding was as big as the cliff that he had pointed out down in themountains, and the porch was as big as the black rock that he pointedout at the same time--the college where Caleb Hazel said Chad, too,must go some day. The Major was coming out when the boy reached thefoot of the steps, and with him was a tall, gray man with spectaclesand a white tie and very white nails, and the Major said:
"There he is now, Professor." And the Professor looked at Chadcuriously, and smiled and smiled again kindly when he saw the boy'sgrave, unsmiling eyes fastened on him.
Then, out of the town and through the late radiant afternoon they wentuntil the sun sank and the carriage stopped before a gate. While thepickaninny was opening it, another carriage went swiftly behind them,and the Major called out cleanly to the occupants--a quiet, sombre,dignified-looking man and two handsome boys and a little girl. "They'remy neighbors, Chad," said the Major.
Not a sound did the wheels make on the thick turf as they drove towardthe old-fashioned brick house (it had no pillars), with its windowsshining through the firs and cedars that filled the yard. The Major puthis hand on the boy's shoulder:
"Well, here we are, little man."
At the yard gate there was a great barking of dogs, and a great shoutof welcome from the negroes who came forward to take the horses. Toeach of them the Major gave a little package, which each darky tookwith shining teeth and a laugh of delight--all looking with wonder atthe curious little stranger with his rifle and coonskin cap, until ascowl from the Major checked the smile that started on each black face.Then the Major led Chad up a flight of steps and into a big hall and oninto a big drawing-room, where there was a huge fireplace and a greatfire that gave Chad a pang of homesickness at once. Chad was notaccustomed to taking off his hat when he entered a house in themountains, but he saw the Major take off his, and he dropped his owncap quickly. The Major sank into a chair.
"Here we are, little man," he said, kindly.
Chad sat down and looked at the books, and the portraits and prints,and the big mirrors and the carpets on the floor, none of which he hadever seen before, and he wondered at it all and what it all might mean.A few minutes later, a tall lady in black, with a curl down each sideof her pale face, came in. Like old Tom, the driver, the Major, too,had been wondering what his sister, Miss Lucy, would think of hisbringing so strange a waif home, and now, with sudden humor, he sawhimself fortified.
"Sister," he said, solemnly, "here's a little kinsman of yours. He's agreat-great-grandson of your great-great-uncle--Chadwick Buford. That'shis name. What kin does that make us?"
"Hush, brother," said Miss Lucy, for she saw the boy reddening withembarrassment and she went across and shook hands with him, taking inwith a glance his coarse strange clothes and his soiled hands and faceand his tangled hair, but pleased at once with his shyness and his darkeyes. She was really never surprised at any caprice of her brother, andshe did not show much interest when the Major went on to tell where hehad found the lad--for she would have thought it quite possible that hemight have taken the boy out of a circus. As for Chad, he was in awe ofher at once--which the Major noticed with an inward chuckle, for theboy had shown no awe of him. Chad could hardly eat for shyness atsupper and because everything was so strange and beautiful, and hescarcely opened his lips when they sat around the great fire, untilMiss Lucy was gone to bed. Then he told the Major all about himself andold Nathan and the Turners and the school-master, and how he hoped tocome back to the Bluegrass, and go to that big college himself, and heamazed the Major when, glancing at the books, he spelled out the titlesof two of Scott's novels, "The Talisman" and "Ivanhoe," and told howthe school-master had read them to him. And the Major, who had apassion for Sir Walter, tested Chad's knowledge, and he could mentionhardly a character or a scene in the two books that did not draw anexcited response from the boy.
"Wouldn't you like to stay here in the Bluegrass now and go to school?"
Chad's eyes lighted up.
"I reckon I would; but how am I goin' to school, now, I'd like to know?I ain't got no money to buy books, and the school-teacher said you haveto pay to go to school, up here."
"Well, we'll see about that," said the Major, and Chad wondered what hemeant. Presently the Major got up and went to the sideboard and pouredout a drink of whiskey and, raising it to his lips, stopped:
"Will you join me?" he asked, humorously, though it was hard for theMajor to omit that formula even with a boy.
"I don't keer if I do," said Chad, gravely. The Major was astounded andamused, and thought that the boy was not in earnest, but he handed himthe bottle and Chad poured out a drink that staggered his host, anddrank it down without winking. At the fire, the Major pulled out hischewing tobacco. This, too, he offered and Chad accepted, equalling theMajor in the accuracy with which he reached the fireplace thereafterwith the juice, carrying off his accomplishment, too, with perfect andunconscious gravity. The Major was nigh to splitting with silentlaughter for a few minutes, and then he grew grave.
"Does everybody drink and chew down in the mountains?"
"Yes, sir," said Chad. "Everybody makes his own licker where I comefrom."
"Don't you know it's very bad for little boys to drink and chew?"
"No, sir."
"Did nobody ever tell you it was very bad for little boys to drink andchew?"
"No, sir"--not once had Chad forgotten that.
"Well, it is."
Chad thought for a minute. "Will it keep me from gittin' to be a BIGman?"
"Yes."
Ch
ad quietly threw his quid into the fire.
"Well, I be damned," said the Major under his breath. "Are you goin' toquit?"
"Yes, sir."
Meanwhile, the old driver, whose wife lived on the next farm, wastelling the servants over there about the queer little stranger whomhis master had picked up on the road that day, and after Chad was goneto bed, the Major got out some old letters from a chest and read themover again. Chadwick Buford was his great-grandfather's twin brother,and not a word had been heard of him since the two had parted thatmorning on the old Wilderness Road, away back in the earliest pioneerdays. So, the Major thought and thought suppose--suppose? And at lasthe got up and with an uplifted candle, looked a long while at theportrait of his grandfather that hung on the southern wall. Then, witha sudden humor, he carried the light to the room where the boy was insound sleep, with his head on one sturdy arm, his hair loose on thepillow, and his lips slightly parted and showing his white, even teeth;he looked at the boy a long time and fancied he could see someresemblance to the portrait in the set of the mouth and the nose andthe brow, and he went back smiling at his fancies and thinking--for theMajor was sensitive to the claim of any drop of the blood in his ownveins--no matter how diluted. He was a handsome little chap.
"How strange! How strange!"
And he smiled when he thought of the boy's last question.
"Where's YO' mammy?"
It had stirred the Major.
"I am like you, Chad," he had said. "I've got no mammy--no nothin',except Miss Lucy, and she don't live here. I'm afraid she won't be onthis earth long. Nobody lives here but me, Chad."