CHAPTER XXXI.--_A Snow Storm._
George Mechlin's wound was not mortal, but it made it necessary toconvey him to town to have medical attendance near at hand, and no doubtit would be of a long and painful convalescence, with the danger, almosta certainty, of leaving him lame for life. This danger was to him farmore terrible than death, but he concealed in the deepest recesses ofhis heart the horror he felt at being a cripple, for he knew the keenanguish that Elvira suffered at the thought of such a probability. Herlovely black eyes would fill with tears, and her lips would tremble andturn white, when he or any one else spoke of the possibility of hisbeing lame. So he had to be consoler, and soothe her grief, and be theone to speak of hope and courage.
There was no possibility of his being able to return to his duties attheir bank in New York at present, and he, to cheer Elvira's despondingheart, would say that he could attend to a bank in San Diego.
"Don't be despondent, my pet," he said one day, when she looked verysad; "things will not be so bad, after all, for in the spring I will bewell enough to attend to bank business here, even if I cannot stand thetrip to New York. With the money that Clarence sent, and with what Iwill put in myself, we can start quite a solid bank. Gabriel will havelearned a good deal by that time, and though I will not walk much, I canbe a very majestic President, and give my directions from my arm-chair.All we want is the success of the Texas Pacific--and my uncle writesthat Tom Scott is very confident, and working hard."
"But will he succeed?" Elvira asked.
"He has powerful enemies, but his cause is good. The construction of theTexas Pacific ought to be advocated by every honest man in the UnitedStates, for it is the thing that will help the exhausted South to getback its strength and vitality."
"Will it really help the South so much?"
"Certainly. Don't we see here in our little town of San Diego howeverything is depending on the success of this road? Look at all thebusiness of the town, all the farming of this county, all the industriesof Southern California--everything is at a stand-still, waiting forCongress to aid the Texas Pacific. Well, the poor South is in prettymuch the same fix that we are. I am sure that there are many homes inthe Southern States whose peace and happiness depend upon theconstruction of the Texas Pacific. Look at our two families. All thefuture prosperity of the Alamares and Mechlins is entirely based uponthe success of this road. If it is built, we will be well off, we willhave comfortable homes and a sure income to live upon. But if the TexasPacific fails, then we will be financially wrecked. That is, my fatherwill, and Don Mariano will be sadly crippled, for he has investedheavily in town property. For my part, I'll lose a great deal, but Ihave my bank stock in New York to fall back upon. So my poor father andyours will be the worst sufferers. Many other poor fellows will sufferlike them--for almost the entire San Diego is in the same boat with us.It all depends on Congress."
"But why should Congress refuse to aid the Texas Pacific, knowing hownecessary the road is to the South? It would be wicked, George,downright injustice, to refuse aid."
"And so it would, but if rumors are true, the bribes of the CentralPacific monopolists have more power with some Congressmen than the senseof justice or the rights of communities. The preamble and resolutionwhich Luttrell introduced last session were a 'flash in the pan,' thatwas soon forgotten, as it seems. In that document it was clearly shownthat the managers of the Central Pacific Railroad Company were guilty ofundeniable and open frauds. Enough was said by Luttrell to prove thoseproud railroad magnates most culpable, and yet with their record stillextant, their power in Congress seems greater every year. Still, unclewrites that Tom Scott is to make a big fight this winter, and that hischances are good. I am bound to hope that he'll win."
"But why has he to _fight_? What right have those men of the CentralPacific to oppose his getting Congressional aid? Does the money of theAmerican people belong to those men, that they should have so much tosay about how it should be used? Is it not very audacious, outrageous,to come forward and oppose aid being given, only _because they don'twant to have competition_? Isn't that their reason?"
"That's all. They have not an earthly _right_ to oppose the TexasPacific, and all their motive is that they _don't want competition_ totheir Central Pacific Railroad. They have already made millions out ofthis road, but they want no one else to make a single dollar. They wantto grab every cent that might be made out of the traffic between theAtlantic and Pacific Oceans, and they don't care how many people areruined or how many homes are made desolate in the South or inCalifornia."
"Oh, George, but this is awful! If those men are so very rapacious andcruel, what hope have we? They will certainly sacrifice San Diego iftheir influence in Congress is so great! Poor San Diego! my poor,little, native town, to be sacrificed to the heartless greed of four orfive men."
"And what claim have these men upon the American people? Think of that!Have they or their fathers ever rendered any services to the nation?None whatever. All they rely upon is their boldness in openly askingthat others be sacrificed, and backing their modest request with moneyearned out of the road they built with Government funds and Governmentcredit. But they have tasted the sweets of ill-gotten gain, and nowtheir rapacity keeps increasing, and in a few years--if they kill theTexas Pacific--they will want to absorb every possible dollar that mightbe made on this coast. The only thing that will put a check upon theirvoracity is the Texas Pacific. If this is killed, then heaven knows whata Herculean work the people of this coast will have to destroy thishydra-headed monster, or in some way put a bit in each of its manyvoracious mouths."
"I am awfully discouraged, George. I am so sorry that papa put all hismoney into town property."
"Let us yet hope Tom Scott might succeed."
And thus this young couple went on discussing San Diego's chances oflife or death, and their own hopes in the future. They were not the onlycouple who in those days pondered over the problem of the "_to be or notto be_" of the Texas Pacific. It is not an exaggeration to say that fornearly ten long years the people of San Diego lived in the hope of thatmuch-needed and well-deserved Congressional aid to the Texas Pacific,which _never came_! That aid which was to bring peace and comfort to somany homes, which at last were made forever desolate!
Yes, aid was refused. The monopoly triumphed, bringing poverty anddistress where peace might have been!
Yet in those days--the winter of '74-'75--everybody's hopes were bright.No clouds in San Diego's horizon meant misfortune. Not yet!
And of all of San Diego's sanguine inhabitants, none surpassed inhopefulness the three friends who had invested so heavily in realestate, viz.: Mr. Mechlin, Senor Alamar and Mr. Holman. They exhortedall to keep up courage, and trust in Tom Scott.
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Many of the cattle sent to Clarence's mines had returned to the ranchofrom the mountains, and now it was necessary to collect them again andsend them back.
Don Mariano himself, accompanied by Victoriano and two of his brothers,would start for the Colorado River, intending to see that the cattle gotto the mines safely.
The evening before leaving Victoriano enjoyed the great happiness ofseeing Alice by herself and talking to her of his love. For three longmonths her illness had kept her a close prisoner in her bedroom, and shehad not seen Tano.
Now they enjoyed a two hours' _tete-a-tete_, which was very sweet tothem, and which pleasure they had not had since Clarence left.
Mercedes' convalescence was very slow. Her despondency at Clarence'sabsence retarded her recovery. The wounding of George had also impressedher painfully, for she was devotedly attached to him; and now she wasworrying about her father having to go away.
Don Mariano told her that as soon as the cattle were on the other sideof the mountains he would not feel any apprehension of their runningaway; that once in the desert they would go straight to the river, butthat while in the mountains there was danger of their "_stampeding_" andbeing lost. She heard all this, but
still she dreaded her papa's goingout of her sight. She could not forget that had he been at home whenClarence came that last evening all might have been right. She had nofaith in human calculations any more. She was sick, and wanted her papanear her.
"I think the best thing you can do is to send Mercita to town, to remainwith us while you are away," George had said to Don Mariano, hearing howbadly she felt at his going.
"Yes, you are right. The surroundings at the rancho bring to her painfulthoughts which will be gloomier when Tano and myself are away. She willhave the two babies, of whom she is so fond, to amuse her here," saidDon Mariano.
"Besides all of us, the Holman girls will be good company for her,"added George.
Mercedes, therefore, was told by her papa that she was to remain withElvira and Lizzie in town during his absence.
"Papa, darling, I shall not cease to be anxious about you and Tano untilI see your dear faces again. I am a thoroughly superstitious girl now.But still, I do agree with you and poor, dear George, that the babieswill be a sweet source of consolation to me. Yes, take me to them. I'llplay chess or cards with George, and we'll amuse each other. He willread to me; he is a splendid reader; I love to hear him."
Mercedes, therefore, was conveyed to town by her loving father, who wentaway with a much lighter heart, thinking that she would be lessdesponding.
The _mayordomo_, with about twenty _vaqueros_, were nearly at the footof the mountains with twenty-five hundred head of cattle, when DonMariano and Victoriano overtook them, and as the cattle had been restingthere for two days, their journey to the Colorado River would be resumedat daybreak.
The weather had been intensely cold for the last two days, so that thebenumbed animals could scarcely walk in the early morning, but now theair felt warmer.
"I fear it is going to rain. We must try to reach the desert and leavethe storm behind us," said Don Mariano to his _mayordomo_.
A good day's journey was made that day, and night overtook them as theydescended into a small valley, which seemed to invite them to restwithin its pretty circumference of well-wooded mountain slopes, fromwhich merry little brooks ran singing and went to hide their music amongthe tall grasses that grew in rank solitude.
The bellowing of cattle and shouts of the _vaqueros_ soon awoke themountain echoes, and the silent little valley was noisy and crowded withbusy life. Camp-fires were quickly lighted, from which arose bluecolumns of smoke, making the lonely spot seem well populated.
"With a good supper and good night's rest, we will make a long marchto-morrow," said the _mayordomo_ to Don Mariano. "There is plenty offeed here for our cattle."
"But the weather looks so threatening. I wish we were out of this," saidDon Mariano.
"And I, too. We are going to get a wetting," added Tano.
About midnight Don Mariano awoke, startled; he had heard nothing, andyet he awoke with a sense of having been summoned to arise. He sat upand looked around, but saw nothing. The darkness of the sky had changedfrom inky black to a leaden hue, and the clouds hung down among the talltrees like curtains of ashy gray, draping them entirely out of view. Thefires were out, and yet he did not feel cold. He thought it strange thatall the fires should have burned out, when they had put on such heavylogs before going to sleep. He struck a light to look at his watch, forhe had no idea what the hour might be. By the light he saw that hisblankets seemed covered with flour. He brushed off the white dust, andfound that snowflakes had invaded even their retreat under the shelterof oak trees.
"There must have been some wind to blow this snow under the thickfoliage of these oaks," said he, hurriedly putting his coat and shoeson, these being the only articles of his dress he had removed, "and Idid not hear it. How stealthily this enemy came upon us. I fear it willbe a winding-sheet for my poor cattle." He now proceeded to awakeeverybody, and a hard task it was, for the treacherous drowsiness spreadover them with that snow-white coverlet was hard to shake off. But hepersisted, and when he made believe he was losing his patience, then allarose, slowly, reluctantly, but they were on their feet.
"Come on, boys, let us build fires, fires! Fires under every tree, if wehave to put up barricades to keep off snow-drifts. Come on; we mustdrink coffee all night to keep us awake."
In a short time several fires were started under oak trees which hadwidely-spreading branches or under pines which clustered together.
Don Mariano had a consultation with his _mayordomo_, and both agreedthat it would be best to drive the cattle back for a few miles and waituntil the snow had melted sufficiently for them to see the trails, elseall might plunge unawares into hidden pitfalls and gulches covered overby snow-drifts.
"Yes, this is our only course," said Don Mariano, "and now we must startthem up. Sleep under snow cannot be any better for cattle than it is formen. Let us have some coffee, and then we must whip up and rouse thecattle; they seem dead already; they are too quiet."
He was going back to the tree where he had slept, when he was met by hisbrother Augustin, who came to say that Victoriano wished to see him.
"What? Still in bed?" said he, seeing Victoriano lying down. "This won'tdo. Up with you, boy."
"Come here to me, father," said Victoriano's voice, very sadly. Hisfather was quickly by his side.
"What is the matter, my boy?" asked he.
"Father, I cannot stand up. From my knees down I have lost all feeling,and have no control of my limbs at all."
"Have you rubbed them to start circulation? They are benumbed with thecold, I suppose."
"I have been rubbing them, but without any effect, it seems. I don'tfeel pain though, nor cold either."
This was the saddest perplexity yet. There was nothing to be done but towait for daylight to take Victoriano home. In the meantime, a fire wasmade near his bed. His limbs were wrapped in warm blankets; he drank alarge cup of warm coffee and lay down to wait for the dawn of day toappear.
As soon as all the herders had drank plenty of warm coffee, all mountedtheir horses, and the work of rousing the cattle began.
The shouts of the _vaqueros_, bellowing of cattle and barking of dogsresounded throughout the valley, the echo repeating them from hill tohill and mountain side. In a short time everything living was in motion,and the peaceful little valley seemed the battle-ground where a fiercelycontested, hand-to-hand fight was raging. The great number of firesburning under the shelter of trees, seen through the falling snow as ifbehind a thick, mysterious veil, gave to the scene a weird appearance ofunreality which the shouts of men, bellowing of cattle and barking ofdogs did not dispel. It all seemed like a phantom battle of ghostlywarriors or enchanted knights evoked in a magic valley, all of whichmust disappear with the first rays of day.
Don Mariano and his two brothers also mounted their horses, but remainednear Victoriano's bed to keep him from being trampled by cattle thatmight rush in that direction.
About four o'clock the _vaqueros_ had a recess. They had put the cattlein motion, and could conscientiously think of cooking breakfast. By thetime that breakfast was over, daylight began to peep here and therethrough the thick curtains of falling snow. Giving to the _mayordomo_the last instructions regarding the management of the cattle, DonMariano got Victoriano ready to start on their forlorn ride homeward. Itwas no easy task to put him in the saddle, but once there, he said hewas all right.
"I am a miserable chicken from my knees down, but a perfect gentlemanfrom my knees up. Don't be sad, father; I'll be all right again soon,"said he, cheerfully.
The snow had not ceased falling for one moment, and if the _mayordomo_had not been so good a guide they might not have found their way out,for every trail was completely obliterated, and no landmarks could beseen. After a while, Don Mariano himself, aided by a pocket compass, gotthe bearings correctly. The entire band of cattle were driven back, sothat all began their retreating march together, preceded by Victoriano,with his limbs wrapped up in pieces of blanket, an expedient which hefound very ridiculous and laughable, suggesting many wi
tticisms to him.
About ten o'clock they came to a grove of oak trees which covered abroad space of ground and afforded good shelter for man and animals. DonMariano told his _mayordomo_ that he thought this would be a good placefor him to stay with the stock until the storm had passed, for althoughthe snow might fall on the uncovered ground, there would be shelter forall under the trees.
After resting for an hour and eating a good luncheon, Don Mariano, aidedby his brothers, again put Victoriano on horseback and started homeward,all the country being still enveloped in snow. About nightfall the snowwas succeeded by rain, and this was much worse, for it came accompaniedby a violent wind which seemed as if it would blow them away with theirhorses. Having left the _mayordomo_ and all but one _vaquero_ with thecattle, Don Mariano had with him only this one _mozo_ to wait on them,and his two brothers to assist him in the care of Tano. The night waspassed again under the friendly shelter of trees, but in the morning itwas found necessary to ride out into the storm, for now Victoriano'slimbs ached frightfully at times, and it was imperative to reach home.This was not done until the following day, when Victoriano's malady hadassumed a very painful character, and when Don Mariano himself had takena severe cold in his lungs. A doctor was immediately sent for, and nowDona Josefa had two invalids more to nurse.
For six weeks Don Mariano was confined to his bed with a severe attackof pneumonia, followed by a lung fever, which clung to him for manydays. In the latter part of January, however, he was convalescing. Notso Victoriano; his strange malady kept him yet a close prisoner. Whenhis father was out already, driving and riding about the rancho, poorTano had to be content with sitting by the window in an arm-chair, andlooking at that other window which he knew was in Alice's room. Everettcame daily to sit with him, to read to him, or play chess or cards, andhe helped the invalid to take a few steps, and little by little, Tanobegan to walk.