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eBook.
Title: A Boy's Trip Across the Plains
Author: Laura Preston
Release date: September 15, 2020 [eBook #63205]
Most recently updated: October 18, 2024
Language: English
Credits: Nick Wall, Martin Pettit, and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOY'S TRIP
ACROSS THE PLAINS ***
58. By LAURA PRESTON,
AUTHOR OF "YOUTH'S HISTORY OF CALIFORNIA."
NEW YORK:
A. ROMAN & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS.
SAN FRANCISCO:
417 and 419 Montgomery Street.
1868.
Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1868,
By A. ROMAN & COMPANY,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States
For the Southern District of New York.
TO
LOUIS AND MARY,
THE ELDEST
OF A BEVY OF NEPHEWS AND NIECES,
THIS LITTLE WORK
59. IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED,
WITH THE HOPE
THAT AS IT HAS ALREADY RECEIVED THEIR FAVORABLE
CRITICISM,
IT MAY MEET THAT OF ALL YOUTHFUL LOVERS
OF ADVENTURE.
San Francisco, June, 1868.
60. CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTER I. 5
CHAPTER II. 24
CHAPTER III. 42
CHAPTER IV. 52
CHAPTER V. 63
CHAPTER VI. 71
CHAPTER VII. 87
CHAPTER VIII. 113
CHAPTER IX. 131
CHAPTER X. 150
CHAPTER XI. 167
CHAPTER XII. 177
CHAPTER XIV. 187
CHAPTER XV. 202
CHAPTER XVI. 210
CHAPTER XVII. 222
A BOY'S TRIP
ACROSS THE PLAINS.
BY LAURA PRESTON.
62. CHAPTER I.
In the village of W——, in western Missouri, lived Mrs. Loring and
her son Guy, a little boy about ten years old. They were very poor,
for though Mr. Loring, during his life time was considered rich, and
his wife and child had always lived comfortably, after his death,
which occurred when Guy was about eight years old, they found that
there were so many people to whom Mr. Loring owed money, that
when the debts were paid there was but little left for the widow and
her only child. That would not have been so bad had they had
friends able or willing to assist them, but Mrs. Loring found that
most of her friends had gone with her wealth, which, I am sorry to
say, is apt to be the case the world over.
As I have said, when Mrs. Loring became a widow she was both
poor and friendless, she was also very delicate. She had never
worked in her life, and although she attempted to do so, in order to
support herself and little Guy, she found it almost impossible to earn
enough to supply them with food. She opened a little school, but
could get only a few scholars, and they paid her so little that she
was obliged also to take in sewing. This displeased the parents of
her pupils and they took away their children, saying "she could not
do two things at once."
This happened early in winter when they needed money far more
than at any other season. But though Mrs. Loring sewed a great deal
during that long, dreary winter, she was paid so little that both
young Guy and herself often felt the pangs of cold and hunger.
Perhaps they need not have done so, if Mrs. Loring had told the
village people plainly that she was suffering, for I am sure they
would have given her food. But she was far too proud to beg or to
allow her son to do so. She had no objection that he should work,
for toil is honorable—but in the winter there was little a boy of ten
63. could do, and although Guy was very industrious it was not often he
could obtain employment. So they every day grew poorer, for
although they had no money their clothing and scanty furniture did
not know it, and wore out much quicker than that of rich people
seems to do.
Yet through all the trials of the long winter Mrs. Loring did not
despair; she had faith to believe that God was bringing her sorrows
upon her for the best, and would remove them in his own good
time. This, she would often say to Guy when she saw him look sad,
and he would glance up brightly with the reply, "I am sure it is for
the best, mother. You have always been so good I am sure God will
not let you suffer long. I think we shall do very well when the Spring
comes. We shall not need a fire then, or suffer for the want of warm
clothing and I shall be able to go out in the fields to work, and shall
earn so much money that you will not have to sew so much, and get
that horrid pain in your chest."
But when the Spring came Guy did not find it so easy to get work as
he had fancied it would be, for there were a great many strong,
rough boys that would do twice as much work in the day as one who
had never been used to work, and the farmers would employ them,
of course. So poor Guy grew almost disheartened, and his mother
with privation and anxiety, fell very sick.
Although afraid she would die she would not allow Guy to call any of
the village people in, for she felt that they had treated her very
unkindly and could not bear that they should see how very poor she
was. She however told Guy he could go for a doctor, and he did so,
calling in one that he had heard often visited the poor and charged
them nothing.
This good man whose name was Langley, went to Mrs. Loring's, and
soon saw both how indigent and how ill the poor woman was. He
was very kind and gave her medicines and such food as she could
take, although it hurt her pride most bitterly to accept them. He also
gave Guy, some work to do, and he was beginning to hope that his
64. mother was getting well, and that better days were coming, when
going home one evening from his work he found his mother crying
most bitterly. He was in great distress at this, and begged her to tell
him what had happened. At first she refused to do so, but at last
said:—
"Perhaps, Guy, it is best for me to tell you all, for if trouble must
come, it is best to be prepared for it. Sit here on the bed beside me,
and I will try to tell you:"
She then told him that Doctor Langley had been there that
afternoon, and had told her very gently, but firmly, that she was in a
consumption and would die. "Unless," she added, "I could leave this
part of the country. With an entire change of food and air, he told
me that I might live many years. But you know, my dear boy, it is
impossible for me to have that, so I must make up my mind to die.
That would not be so hard to do if it were not for leaving you alone
in this uncharitable world."
Poor Mrs. Loring who had been vainly striving to suppress her
emotions, burst into tears, and Guy who was dreadfully shocked and
alarmed, cried with her. It seemed so dreadful to him that his
mother should die when a change of air and freedom from anxiety
might save her. He thought of it very sadly for many days, but could
see no way of saving his mother. He watched her very closely, and
although she seemed to gain a little strength as the days grew
warmer, and even sat up, and tried to sew, he was not deceived into
thinking she would get well, for the doctor had told him she never
would, though for the summer she might appear quite strong.
He was walking slowly and sadly through the street one day,
thinking of this, when he heard two gentlemen who were walking
before him, speak of California.
"Is it true," said one, "that Harwood is going there?"
"Yes," said the other, "he thinks he can better his condition by doing
so."
65. "Do you know what steamer he will leave on?" asked the first
speaker.
"He is not going by steamer," replied the second, "as Aggie is quite
delicate, he has decided to go across the plains."
"Ah! indeed. When do they start?"
"As soon as possible. Mrs. Harwood told me to-day, that the chief
thing they were waiting for, was a servant. Aggie needs so much of
her care that she must have a nurse for the baby, and she says it
seems impossible to induce a suitable person to go. Of course she
doesn't want a coarse, uneducated servant, but some one she can
trust, and who will also be a companion for herself during the long
journey."
The gentlemen passed on, and Guy heard no more, but he stood
quite still in the street, and with a throbbing heart, thought, "Oh! if
my mother could go across the plains, it would cure her. Oh! if Mrs.
Harwood would but take her as a nurse. I know she is weak, but she
could take care of a little baby on the plains much better than she
can bend over that hard sewing here, and besides I could help her.
Oh! if Mrs. Harwood would only take her. I'll find out where she
lives, and ask her to do so."
He had gained the desired information and was on his way to Mrs.
Harwood's house before he remembered that his mother might not
consent to go if Mrs. Harwood was willing to take her. He knew she
was very proud, and had been a rich lady herself once, and would
probably shrink in horror from becoming a servant. His own pride for
a moment revolted against it, but his good sense came to his aid,
and told him it was better to be a servant than die. He went on a
little farther, and then questioned himself whether it would not be
better to go first and tell his mother about it, and ask her consent to
speak to Mrs. Harwood. But it was a long way back, and as he
greatly feared his mother would not allow him to come, and would
probably be much hurt at his suggesting such a thing, he
66. determined to act for once without her knowledge, and without
further reflection walked boldly up to Mrs. Harwood's door. It was
open, and when he knocked some one called to him to come in.
He did so, although for a moment he felt inclined to run away. There
was a lady in the room, and four children—two large boys, a delicate
looking girl about five years old, and a baby boy who was sitting on
the floor playing with a kitten, but who stopped and stared at Guy as
he entered.
The other children did the same, and Guy was beginning to feel very
timid and uncomfortable, when the lady asked who he wished to
see.
He told her Mrs. Harwood, and the eldest boy said, "That's ma's
name, isn't it, ma? What do you want of ma? say!"
Guy said nothing to the rude boy, but told Mrs. Harwood what he
had heard on the street.
"It is true," she said kindly, "I do want a nurse. Has some one sent
you here to apply for the place?"
"No, ma'am," he replied, "no one sent me, but—but—I came—of
myself—because—I thought—my—mother—might—perhaps suit
you."
"Why, that is a strange thing for a little boy to do!" exclaimed Mrs.
Harwood.
"Hullo, Gus," cried the boy that had before spoken, "here's a friend
of mine; guess he's the original Young America, 'stead of me!"
"George, be silent," said his mother, very sternly. "Now, child," she
continued, turning again to Guy, "you may tell me how you ever
thought of doing so strange a thing as applying for a place for your
mother, unless she told you to do so. Is she unkind to you? Do you
want her to leave you?"
67. "Oh, no, she is very, very kind," said Guy, earnestly, "and I wouldn't
be parted from her for the world." He then forgot all his fears, and
eagerly told the lady how sick his mother had been, and how sure
he was that the trip across the plains would cure her, and, above all,
told how good and kind she was; "she nursed me," he concluded,
very earnestly, "and you see what a big boy I am!"
Mrs. Harwood smiled so kindly that he was almost certain she would
take his mother; but his heart fell, when she said: "I am very sorry
that your mother is sick, but I don't think I can take her with me;
and besides, Mr. Harwood would not like to have another boy to take
care of."
"But I will take care of myself," cried Guy, "and help a great deal
about the wagons. Oh, ma'am, if you would only take me, I would
light the fires when you stopped to camp, and get water, and do a
great many things, and my mother would do a great deal too."
Mrs. Harwood shook her head, and poor Guy felt so downcast that
he was greatly inclined to cry. The boys laughed, but the little girl
looked very sorry, and said to him:
"Don't look so sad; perhaps mamma will yet take your mother, and I
will take you. I want you to go. You look good and kind, and
wouldn't let George tease me."
"That I wouldn't," said Guy, looking pityingly upon the frail little
creature, and wondering how any one could think of being unkind to
her.
"What is your name?" asked the little one.
"Guy," he replied, and the boys burst into a laugh.
"Oh, let us take him with us, ma," cried George, "it would be such
capital fun to have a 'guy' with us all the time, to make us laugh.
Oh, ma, do let him go."
68. "Yes, mamma, do let him go," said little Aggie, taking her brother's
petition quite in earnest. "I am sure he could tell me lots of pretty
stories, and you wouldn't have to tell me 'Bluebeard' and 'Cinderella,'
until you were tired of telling, and I of hearing them."
Now Mrs. Harwood was very fond of her children, and always liked
to indulge them, if she possibly could, especially her little, delicate
Agnes. She thought to herself, as she saw them together, that he
might, in reality, be very useful during the trip, especially as Agnes
had taken so great a fancy to him; so she decided, instead of
sending him away, as she had first intended, to keep him a short
time, and if he proved as good a boy as he appeared, to go with him
to his mother and see what she could do for her. Accordingly, she
told Guy to stay with the children for an hour, while she thought of
the matter. He did so, and as she watched him closely, she saw, with
surprise, that he amused Agnes by his lively stories, the baby by his
antics, and was successful not only in preventing Gus and George
from quarreling, but in keeping friendly with them himself.
"This boy is very amiable and intelligent," she said to herself, "and
as he loves her so well, it is likely his mother has the same good
qualities. I will go around to see her, and if she is well enough to
travel, and is the sort of person I imagine, I will certainly try to take
her with me."
She sent Guy home with a promise to that effect, and in great
delight he rushed into the house, and told his mother what he had
done. At first she was quite angry, and Guy felt very wretchedly over
his impulsive conduct; but when he told her how kind the lady was,
and how light her duties would probably be, she felt almost as
anxious as Guy himself, that Mrs. Harwood should find her strong
and agreeable enough to take the place.
Mr. and Mrs. Harwood came the next day, and were much pleased
with Mrs. Loring, and perhaps more so with Guy, though they did
not say so. The doctor came in while they were there, and was
delighted with the project, assuring Mrs. Loring that the trip would
69. greatly benefit her, and privately telling Mr. and Mrs. Harwood what
a good woman she was, and how willing she was to do any thing
honorable for the support of herself and her little boy. So they
decided to take her.
"We will give you ten dollars a month," said they, "so you will not be
quite penniless when you get to California."
Mrs. Loring thanked them most heartily, and Guy felt as if all the
riches of the world had been showered down upon them.
"You look like an energetic little fellow," said Mr. Harwood to Guy, as
they were going away, "and I hope you will continue to be one, else
I shall leave you on the plains. Remember, I'll have no laggards in
my train."
Guy promised most earnestly to be as alert and industrious as could
be desired, and full of good intentions and delightful hopes, went
back to his mother to talk of what might happen during their TRIP
ACROSS THE PLAINS.
70. CHAPTER II.
How quickly the next two weeks of Guy Loring's life flew by. He was
busy and therefore had no time to notice how often his mother
sighed deeply when he talked of the free, joyous life they should
lead on the plains. There seemed to her little prospect of freedom or
pleasure in becoming a servant; yet she said but little about it to
Guy as she did not wish to dampen the ardor of his feelings, fearing
that the stern reality of an emigrant's life would soon throw a cloud
over his blissful hopes. Even Guy himself sometimes felt half inclined
to repent his impulsiveness, for George Harwood constantly
reminded him of it by calling him "Young America" and asking him if
he had no other servants to hire out.
Guy bore all these taunts very quietly, and even laughed at them,
and made himself so useful and agreeable to every one, that on the
morning of the start from W——, Mr. Harwood was heard to say he
would as soon be without one of his best men as little Guy Loring.
It was a beautiful morning in May, 1855, upon which Mr. Harwood's
train left W——. Guy was amazed at the number of people, of horses
and wagons, and at the preparations that had been made for the
journey. Besides Mr. Harwood's family there was that of his cousin,
Mr. Frazer; five young men from St. Louis, and another with his two
sisters from W——. Guy could not but wonder that so many people
should travel together, for he thought it would have been much
pleasanter for each family to be alone, until he heard that there
were a great many Indians upon the plains who often robbed, and
sometimes murdered small parties of travelers.
As the long train of wagons and cattle moved along the narrow
streets of the quiet village, Guy thought of all he had read of the
caravans that used to cross the desert sands of Arabia. "Doesn't it
71. remind you of them:" he said, after mentioning his thoughts to
George Harwood who was standing near.
"Not a bit" he replied with a laugh. "Those great, strong, covered
wagons don't look much like the queer old caravans did I guess, and
neither the mules or oxen are like camels, besides the drivers
haven't any turbans on their heads, and the people altogether look
much more like Christians than Arabs."
Guy was quite abashed, and not daring to make any other
comparisons, asked Gus to tell him the name of the owner of each
wagon as it passed.
"The first was father's," he answered readily, "the next two cousin
James Frazer's. The next one belongs to William Graham, and his
two sisters, the next two to the young men from St. Louis, and the
other six are baggage wagons."
Guy could ask nothing more as Mr. Harwood called to him to help
them in driving some unruly oxen that were in the rear of the train.
Next he was ordered to run back to the village for some article that
had been forgotten, next to carry water to the teamsters, then to
run with messages from one person to another until he was so tired,
he thoroughly envied George and Gus their comfortable seats in one
of the baggage wagons, and was delighted at last to hear the signal
to halt.
Although they had been traveling all day they were but a few miles
from the village, and the people in spite of the wearisome labors of
the day scarcely realized that they had begun a long and perilous
journey. To most of them it seemed like a picnic party, but to poor
little Guy, it seemed a very tiresome one as he assisted in taking a
small cooking-stove from Mr. Harwood's baggage wagon. As soon as
it was set up, in the open air, at a short distance from the wagons,
he was ordered to make a fire. There was a quantity of dry wood at
hand, and soon he had the satisfaction of seeing a cheerful blaze.
72. Asking Gus to take care that it did not go out, he took a kettle from
the wagon and went to the spring for water.
Every person was too busy to notice whether Gus watched the fire
or not. Some were building fires for themselves, some unhitching the
horses from the traces, unyoking the oxen, and giving them water
and feed. Guy thought he had never beheld so busy a scene as he
came back with the water, hoping that his fire was burning brightly.
Alas! not a spark was to be seen, Gus had gone with George to see
the cows milked, and poor Guy had to build the fire over again.
Although he was very tired he would have gone to work cheerfully
enough, had not Mrs. Harwood, who was wishing to warm some
milk for the baby reprimanded him severely for his negligence. He
thought the fire would never burn, and was almost ready to cry with
vexation and fatigue. Indeed two great tears did gather in his eyes,
and roll slowly over his cheeks. He tried to wipe them away, but was
not quick enough to prevent George Harwood who had returned
from milking, from seeing them.
"Hullo!" he cried, catching Guy by the ears and holding back his
head that everybody might see his face, "here is 'Young America'
boo-hoo-ing, making a reg'lar 'guy' of himself sure enough. Has
somebody stepped on his poor 'ittle toe?" he added with mock
tenderness, as if he was talking to a little child; "never mind, hold up
your head, or you'll put the fire out with your tears; just see how
they make it fizzle: why, how salt they must be!"
Guy had the good sense neither to get angry, or to cry, at this
raillery, although he found it hard to abstain from doing both. But he
remembered in time that his mother had told him the only way to
silence George was to take no notice of him.
"Guy," said Mrs. Harwood, who had just come from the wagon, with
some meat to be cooked for supper, "I want you to go to your
mother, and amuse Aggie."
73. He went joyfully as he had not seen his mother since morning. He
uttered an exclamation of surprise when he entered the wagon in
which she was seated, it was so different from what he had
imagined it. It was covered with thick oil-cloth, which was quite
impervious to rain; on the floor was a carpet, over head a curious
sort of rack that held all manner of useful things, guns, fishing poles
and lines, game bags, baskets of fruit, sewing materials, books; and
even glass-ware and crockery. Guy thought he had never seen so
many things packed in so small a space. There were at the rear of
the wagon and along the sides, divans, or cushioned benches, made
of pine boxes covered with cloth and padded, so that they made
very comfortable seats or beds. As Guy saw no sheets or blankets
upon the divans, he was at a loss to know how the sleepers would
keep warm, until his mother raised the cushioned lid of one of the
boxes, and showed him a quantity of coverlets and blankets, packed
tightly therein.
There was a large, round lamp suspended from the center of the
wagon, and as Guy looked at his mother's cheerful surroundings he
could not but wonder that she sighed when he spoke of the dark,
lonesome lodgings they had left, until he suddenly remembered that
she had been nursing the heavy, fretful baby, and trying to amuse
Aggie all the day.
Poor little Aggie was looking very sad, and often said she was very
tired of the dull wagon, and was cold, too. Guy told her of the bright
camp-fires that were burning beside the wagons, and asked her to
go out with him to see them, for although he was very tired and
would gladly have rested in the wagon, he was willing to weary
himself much more if he could do anything to please the sickly little
girl.
"Oh I should like to go very much," cried Aggie eagerly, "Go and ask
ma if I can! It will be such fun to see the fires burning and all the
people standing around them."
74. Mrs. Harwood was willing for Guy to take Aggie out, if he would be
careful of her, and so he went back and told the anxious little girl.
"Ah! but I am afraid you won't take care of me," she exclaimed
hastily. "No body but mamma takes care of me. George and Gus
always lets me fall, and then I cry because I am hurt, and then papa
whips them, and I cry harder than ever because they are hurt."
"But we will have no hurting or crying this time," replied Guy as he
helped Aggie out of the wagon, thinking what a tenderhearted girl
she must be to cry to see George Harwood whipped, he was sure
that he should not, "for," said Guy to himself, "we should never cry
over what we think will do people good."
How busy all the people seemed to be as Guy, with Aggie by his side
walked among them. Both were greatly pleased at the novel scene
presented to their view. Two cooking stoves were sending up from
their black pipes thick spirals of smoke, while half a dozen clouds of
the same arose from as many fires, around which were gathered
men and women busily engaged in preparing the evening meal. Tea
and coffee were steaming, beefsteaks broiling, slices of bacon
sputtering in the frying pans, each and every article sending forth
most appetizing odors.
Aggie was anxious to see how her father's baggage wagons were
arranged and where they stood. They proved to be the very best of
the train, but they were so interested in all they saw and heard that
they did not appear long in reaching them.
"What a nice time we shall have on the Plains," exclaimed Aggie. "I
shall want you to take me out among the wagons every night. I
never thought such great, lumbering things could look so pretty. I
thought the cloth coverings so coarse and yellow this morning, and
now by the blaze of the fires they appear like banks of snow."
So she talked on until Guy had led her past the fires, the groups
were busy and cheerful people, the lowing cattle and the tired
horses and mules which were quietly munching their fodder and
75. corn, until they reached the baggage wagons. In one of them they
found a lamp burning, and by its light they saw how closely it was
packed. There were barrels of beef, pork, sugar, flour, and many
other articles which were requisite for a long journey. There were
boxes too, of tea, coffee, rice, crackers and many other edibles, and
in one corner, quite apart from these a number of flasks of powder.
There were also several guns, some spades and other tools, and a
great many things which Guy and Aggie thought useless, but proved
very valuable at a later time.
"I wonder what papa brought so many guns for?" said little Aggie.
"And all the others have them too. I should think they would be
afraid to sleep in a wagon with so many guns and so much powder
in it."
"Men should not be afraid of anything," said Guy very bravely, "and
at any rate not of guns and powder, for with them they can guard
their lives and property from the Indians."
"The Indians!" cried Aggie opening her eyes very wide with fright
and surprise. "Are there Indians on the Plains?"
"Yes. But don't be frightened," replied Guy. "They shall not harm
you, and perhaps we may not see any."
"Oh, I hope we shan't. Let us go back to mother, it is getting dark,
and I'm so frightened. Oh, dear! Oh, dear!"
Aggie's alarm rather amused Guy, but he soothed her very kindly
and told her he would take her to her mother, and they had just left
the wagon, when a terrible figure, wrapped in a buffalo robe, and
brandishing in his hand a small hatchet, jumped with an awful yell
into the path before them.
Poor Aggie caught Guy's arm and screaming with terror begged him
to save her from the Indian. For a moment Guy himself was startled,
then as the monster came nearer he jumped forward, wrested the
hatchet from its grasp, and with hands neither slow nor gentle, tore
76. the buffalo robe aside and administered some hearty cuffs to the
crest-fallen George Harwood.
"Let me go," he said piteously. "Don't you see who I am? I'll tell my
father, so I will."
"You are a fine Indian," said Guy, contemptuously, "just able to
frighten little girls."
"I can whip you," exclaimed George, as he saw Guy was preparing
to lead Aggie to her mother. "Just come on!"
"No," said Guy, who had already proved the cowardice of his
opponent, "I am quite willing always to protect my master's
daughter from Indians, but not to fight his sons."
"Bravely spoken my little man," exclaimed Mr. Harwood, who had
approached them unperceived.
"He's a coward," whimpered George, "he struck me!"
"I saw all that passed," replied Mr. Harwood, "and I wonder that he
acted so well. I shall make him from henceforth Aggie's especial
defender, and he can strike whoever molests her, whether it be an
Indian or any one else."
George walked sullenly away, and Mr. Harwood, Aggie and Guy
turned toward the camp-fires, and passing three or four, reached
that of their own party. At some little distance from it was spread a
tablecloth covered with plates, dishes of bread, vegetables and
meat, cups of steaming coffee, and other articles. On the grass
around this lowly table the family were seated, all cheerful and all by
the labors of the day blessed with an appetite that rendered their
first meal in camp perfectly delicious.
But for Guy, a dreary hour followed the supper, there were dishes to
wash, water to fetch, and fires to pile high with wood. Guy almost
envied his mother the task of rocking the baby to sleep, yet was glad
77. that he was able to do the harder work which would otherwise have
fallen on her hands.
It was quite late when all his work was done, and he was able to sit
for a few moments by the camp-fire. He had just begun to tell Aggie
of "Jack, the Giant Killer's" wonderful exploits, when Mr. Harwood
rang a large bell, and all the people left their fires and congregated
about his. Mr. Harwood then stood up with a book in his hand and
told them in a few words what a long and perilous journey they had
undertaken, and asked them to join with him in entreating God's
blessing upon them. He then read a short chapter from the bible and
all knelt down while he offered up a prayer for guidance and
protection.
Aggie whispered to Guy, as she bade him "good-night," that after
that prayer she should not be afraid of the Indians, and went very
contentedly to her mother's wagon, while Guy followed Gus and
George to the one in which they were to sleep.
They were all too weary to talk, and wrapping their blankets around
them lay down, and Gus and George were soon fast asleep. Guy lay
awake some time, looking out at the bright fires—the sleeping cattle,
the long row of wagons, seeing in fancy far beyond the wide
expanse of prairies, the snowy peaks of the Rocky Mountains, and at
last in his peaceful sleep, the golden land of California.
78. CHAPTER III.
It seemed to Guy but a few short moments before he was aroused
from sleep by the voice of Mr. Harwood, calling to him to light the
fire in the stove.
He started up, for a moment, thinking himself in the poor lodging at
W——, and wondering why his mother had called him so early. But
the sight of the closely packed wagon, and his sleeping companions,
immediately recalled to his remembrance his new position and its
many duties. He hurriedly left the wagon, but as it was still quite
dark to his sleepy eyes, he had to wait a few moments and look
cautiously around, before he could decide which way to turn his
steps.
The first objects he saw, were the camp-fires, which were
smouldering slowly away as if the gray dawn that was peeping over
the hills was putting them to shame. He thought to himself "I am
the first up," but on going forward a few steps, found himself
mistaken, several of the men were moving briskly about, rousing the
lazy horses and oxen, or building fires.
"I shall have to be quick," thought Guy, "or I shall be the last instead
of the first!" and he went to work with such ardor that he had a fire
in the stove, and the kettle boiling over it before any one came to
cook breakfast.
He was glad to see that his mother was the first to leave Mr.
Harwood's wagon, for he wanted to have a chat with her alone, but
his pleasure was soon turned to sorrow when he saw how weary she
looked. He feared, at first, that she was ill, but she told him that the
baby had passed a restless night and kept her awake. Poor Mrs.
Loring could not take up her new life as readily as Guy, and even
79. while she encouraged him always to look upon the bright side, she
very often saw only the dark herself.
But no one could long remain dull or unhappy that beautiful spring
morning. The dawn grew brighter as the fires died away, and at last
the sun extinguished them altogether by the glory of his presence,
as he rose above the distant hills.
Guy thought he had never beheld so lovely a scene. There was the
busy, noisy camp before him, and beyond it the calm beauty of
freshly budding forests, standing forth in bold relief from the blue
sky which bore on its bosom the golden sphere whence emanate all
light and heat, God's gifts that make our earth so lovely and so
fruitful.
Those were Guy's thoughts as he moved about, willingly assisting his
mother, and the two young girls who, with their brother had left W
—— to seek their fortunes in the far West. Guy pitied them very
much for they were unused to work and had at that time a great
deal to do. So when he went to the spring for water, he brought also
a pailful for them, and when he had a leisure moment, he did any
little chores for them that he could. He had not noticed them much
the night before, but that morning he became quite well acquainted
with them; discovered that the elder was called Amy, and the
younger Carrie, and that they were both very pleasant, and
appreciative of all little acts of kindness.
Before the sun was an hour high, the breakfast had been partaked
of, the camp furniture replaced in the wagons and the train put in
motion.
Slowly and steadily the well-trained mules and the patient oxen
wended their way towards the Missouri River, and so for nearly two
weeks the march was kept up with no incident occurring to break its
monotony, save the daily excitement of breaking camp at noon and
after a tiresome walk of a dozen miles or more, building the watch
fires at night, and talking over the events of the day.
80. I think had it not been for Aggie, Guy would often have fallen to
sleep as soon as he joined the circle round the fire, for he was
generally greatly wearied by the labors of the day. Every one found
something for Guy to do, and as he never shirked his work as many
boys do, be found but little time for rest, and none for play.
So, as I have said, he was usually so tired at night that he would
certainly have fallen asleep as soon as he gained a quiet nook by the
fire, but for little Aggie, who never failed to take a seat close beside
him and ask for a story. So with the little girl on one side, Gus on the
other, and George seated where he could hear without appearing to
listen, Guy would tell them all the wonderful tales he had ever read,
and many beside that were never printed or even known before.
Those hours spent around the glowing fires, were happy ones to the
children. Even George, when he looked up at the countless stars
looking down upon them from the vast expanse of heaven, was
quieted and seldom annoyed either Guy or his eager listeners by his
ill-timed jests or practical jokes.
"I wish," said little Aggie one evening, when she was sitting by the
fire with her curly head resting on Guy's arms, "that you would tell
me where all the pretty sparks go when they fly upward."
"Why, they die and fall to the earth again," exclaimed George,
laughing.
"I don't think they do," replied Aggie, "I think the fire-flies catch
them and carry them away under their wings."
"And hang them for lamps in butterflies' houses," suggested Guy.
"Oh yes," cried Aggie, clapping her hand in delight. "Do tell us about
them, Guy! I am sure you can!"
So Guy told her about the wonderful bowers in the centre of large
roses where the butterflies rest at night, of the great parlor in the
middle of all, whose walls are of the palest rose and whose ceiling is
upheld by pillars of gold, and of the bed chambers on either hand
81. with their crimson hangings and their atmosphere of odors so sweet
that the very butterflies sometimes become intoxicated with its
deliciousness, and sleep until the rude sun opens their chamber
doors and dries the dew-drops upon their wings. And he told them
too, how the butterflies gave a ball one night. All the rose parlors
were opened and at each door two fire-flies stood, each with a
glowing spark of flame to light the gay revellers to the feast.
For a long time they patiently stood watching the dancers, and
recounting to each other the origin of the tiny lamps they held.
"I," said one, "caught the last gleam from a widow's hearth, and left
her and her children to freeze; but I couldn't help that for my Lady
Golden Wing told me to bring the brightest light to-night."
"Yet you are scarcely seen," replied his companion, "and 'tis right
your flame should be dull, for the cruelty you showed toward the
poor widow, I caught my light from a rich man's fire and injured no
one, and that is how my lamp burns brighter than yours."
"At any rate I have the comfort of knowing mine is as bright as that
of some others here."
"Nay even mine is brighter than yours," cried a fly from a
neighboring rose. "I would scorn to get my light as you did yours. I
caught mine from the tip of a match with which a little servant-maid
was lighting a fire for her sick mistress. It was the last match in the
house too, and it made me laugh till I ached to hear how mistress
and maid groaned over my fun."
"You cannot say much of my cruelty when you think of your own,"
commented the first, "nor need you wonder that your lamp is dull.
But look at the light at my Lord Spangle Down's door, it is the most
glorious of them all, and held by poor little Jetty Back! Jetty Back!
Jetty Back, where did you light your lamp to-night?"
"I took the spark from a shingle roof, beneath which lay four little
children asleep," she modestly answered. "It was a fierce, red spark,
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