CHAPTER XII
GOLD AND GRIEF
It may have been an hour, but it seemed an age, ere the sound of thehorn, in Firm's strong blast, released me from my hiding-place. I hadheard no report of fire-arms, nor perceived any sign of conflict; andcertainly the house was not on fire, or else I must have seen the smoke.For being still in great alarm, I had kept a very sharp lookout.
Ephraim Gundry came to meet me, which was very kind of him. He carriedhis bugle in his belt, that he might sound again for me, if needful.But I was already running toward the house, having made up my mind tobe resolute. Nevertheless, I was highly pleased to have his company, andhear what had been done.
"Please to let me help you," he said, with a smile. "Why, miss, you aretrembling dreadfully. I assure you there is no cause for that."
"But you might have been killed, and Uncle Sam, and Martin, and everybody. Oh, those men did look so horrible!"
"Yes, they always do till you come to know them. But bigger cowards werenever born. If they can take people by surprise, and shoot themwithout any danger, it is a splendid treat to them. But if any one likegrandfather meets them face to face in the daylight, their respectfor law and life returns. It is not the first visit they have paid us.Grandfather kept his temper well. It was lucky for them that he did."
Remembering that the Rovers must have numbered nearly three to one, evenif all our men were stanch, I thought it lucky for ourselves thatthere had been no outbreak. But Firm seemed rather sorry that they haddeparted so easily. And knowing that he never bragged, I began to sharehis confidence.
"They must be shot, sooner or later," he said, "unless, indeed, theyshould be hanged. Their manner of going on is out of date in these daysof settlement. It was all very well ten years ago. But now we are acivilized State, and the hand of law is over us. I think we were wrongto let them go. But of course I yield to the governor. And I think hewas afraid for your sake. And to tell the truth, I may have been thesame."
Here he gave my arm a little squeeze, which appeared to me quite out ofplace; therefore I withdrew and hurried on. Before he could catch me Ientered the door, and found the Sawyer sitting calmly with his own longpipe once more, and watching Suan cooking.
"They rogues have had all the best of our victuals," he said, as soonas he had kissed me. "Respectable visitors is my delight, and welcometo all of the larder; but at my time of life it goes agin the grainto lease out my dinner to galley-rakers. Suan, you are burning the fatagain."
Suan Isco, being an excellent cook (although of quiet temper), neverpaid heed to criticism, but lifted her elbow and went on. Mr. Gundryknew that it was wise to offer no further meddling, although it is wellto keep them up to their work by a little grumbling. But when I came tosee what broken bits were left for Suan to deal with, I only wonderedthat he was not cross.
"Thank God for a better meal than I deserve," he said, when they all hadfinished. "Suan, you are a treasure, as I tell you every day a'most. Nowif they have left us a bottle of wine, let us have it up. We be all inthe dumps. But that will never do, my lad."
He patted Firm on the shoulder, as if he were the younger man of thetwo, and his grandson went down to the wreck of the cellar; while I,who had tried to wait upon them in an eager, clumsy way, perceived thatsomething was gone amiss, something more serious and lasting than themischief made by the robber troop. Was it that his long ride had failed,and not a friend could be found to help him?
When Martin and the rest were gone, after a single glass of wine, andEphraim had made excuse of something to be seen to, the Sawyer leanedback in his chair, and his cheerful face was troubled. I filled his pipeand lit it for him, and waited for him to speak, well knowing his simpleand outspoken heart. But he looked at me and thanked me kindly, andseemed to be turning some grief in his mind.
"It ain't for the money," he said at last, talking more to himself thanto me; "the money might 'a been all very well and useful in a sort ofway. But the feelin'--the feelin' is the thing I look at, and it oughtto have been more hearty. Security! Charge on my land, indeed! And I canrun away, but my land must stop behind! What security did I ask of them?'Tis enough a'most to make a rogue of me."
"Nothing could ever do that, Uncle Sam," I exclaimed, as I came and satclose to him, while he looked at me bravely, and began to smile.
"Why, what was little missy thinking of?" he asked. "How solid shelooks! Why, I never see the like!"
"Then you ought to have seen it, Uncle Sam. You ought to have seen itfifty times, with every body who loves you. And who can help loving you,Uncle Sam?"
"Well, they say that I charged too much for lumber, a-cuttin' on thecross, and the backstroke work. And it may 'a been so, when I tookagin a man. But to bring up all that, with the mill strown down, is acowardly thing, to my thinking. And to make no count of the beadin' Ithrew in, whenever it were a straightforrard job, and the turpsy knots,and the clogging of the teeth--'tis a bad bit to swallow, when the millis strown."
"But the mill shall not be strown, Uncle Sam. The mill shall be builtagain. And I will find the money."
Mr. Gundry stared at me and shook his head. He could not bear to tellme how poor I was, while I thought myself almost made of money. "Fivethousand dollars you have got put by for me," I continued, with greatimportance. "Five thousand dollars from the sale and the insurance fund.And five thousand dollars must be five-and-twenty thousand francs. UncleSam, you shall have every farthing of it. And if that won't build themill again, I have got my mother's diamonds."
"Five thousand dollars!" cried the Sawyer, in amazement, opening hisgreat gray eyes at me. And then he remembered the tale which he hadtold, to make me seem independent. "Oh yes, to be sure, my dear; now Irecollect. To be sure--to be sure--your own five thousand dollars. Butnever will I touch one cent of your nice little fortune; no, not to savemy life. After all, I am not so gone in years but what I can build themill again myself. The Lord hath spared my hands and eyes, and gifted mestill with machinery. And Firm is a very handy lad, and can carry out ajob pretty fairly, with better brains to stand over him, although it hasnot pleased the Lord to gift him with sense of machinery, like me. Butthat is all for the best, no doubt. If Ephraim had too much of brains,he might have contradicted me. And that I could never abide, God knows,from any green young jackanapes."
"Oh, Uncle Sam, let me tell you something--something very important!"
"No, my dear, nothing more just now. It has done me good to have alittle talk, and scared the blue somethings out of me. But just go andask whatever is become of Firm. He was riled with them greasers. It wasall I could do to keep the boy out of a difficulty with them. And ifthey camp any where nigh, it is like enough he may go hankerin' afterthem. The grand march of intellect hathn't managed yet to march oldheads upon young shoulders. And Firm might happen to go outside thelaw."
The thought of this frightened me not a little; for Firm, though mildof speech, was very hot of spirit at any wrong, as I knew from tales ofSuan Isco, who had brought him up and made a glorious idol of him. Andnow, when she could not say where he was, but only was sure that he mustbe quite safe (in virtue of a charm from a great medicine man which shehad hung about him), it seemed to me, according to what I was used to,that in these regions human life was held a great deal too lightly.
It was not for one moment that I cared about Firm, any more than is theduty of a fellow-creature. He was a very good young man, and in his waygood-looking, educated also quite enough, and polite, and a very goodcarver of a joint; and when I spoke, he nearly always listened. But ofcourse he was not to be compared as yet to his grandfather, the trueSawyer.
When I ran back from Suan Isco, who was going on about her charm, andthe impossibility of any one being scalped who wore it, I found Mr.Gundry in a genial mood. He never made himself uneasy about any trifles.He always had a very pure and lofty faith in the ways of Providence, andhaving lost his only son Elijah, he was sure that he never could loseFirm. He had taken his glass of hot whiskey and water, w
hich always madehim temperate; and if he felt any of his troubles deeply, he dwelt onthem now from a high point of view.
"I may 'a said a little too much, my dear, about the badness ofmankind," he observed, with his pipe lying comfortably on his breast;"all sayings of that sort is apt to go too far. I ought to have mademore allowance for the times, which gets into a ticklish state, when aold man is put about with them. Never you pay no heed whatever to anyharsh words I may have used. All that is a very bad thing for youngfolk."
"But if they treated you badly, Uncle Sam, how can you think that theytreated you well?"
He took some time to consider this, because he was true in all histhoughts; and then he turned off to something else.
"Why, the smashing of the mill may have been a mercy, although indisguise to the present time of sight. It will send up the price ofscantlings, and we was getting on too fast with them. By the time wehave built up the mill again we shall have more orders than we knowhow to do with. When I come to reckon of it, to me it appears to be thereasonable thing to feel a lump of grief for the old mill, and then toset to and build a stronger one. Yes, that must be about the right thingto do. And we'll have all the neighbors in when we lay foundations."
"But what will be the good of it, Uncle Sam, when the new mill may atany time be washed away again?"
"Never, at any time," he answered, very firmly, gazing through the dooras if he saw the vain endeavor. "That little game can easily be stopped,for about fifty dollars, by opening down the bank toward the old trackof the river. The biggest waterspout that ever came down from themountains could never come anigh the mill, but go right down the valley.It hath been in my mind to do it often, and now that I see the need, Iwill. Firm and I will begin tomorrow."
"But where is all the money to come from, Uncle Sam? You said that allyour friends had refused to help you."
"Never mind, my dear. I will help myself. It won't be the first time,perhaps, in my life."
"But supposing that I could help you, just some little? Supposing that Ihad found the biggest lump of gold ever found in all California?"
Mr. Gundry ought to have looked surprised, and I was amazed that hedid not; but he took it as quietly as if I had told him that I hadjust picked up a brass button of his; and I thought that he doubted myknowledge, very likely, even as to what gold was.
"It is gold, Uncle Sam, every bit of it gold--here is a piece of it;just look--and as large, I am sure, as this table. And it may be asdeep as this room, for all that one can judge to the contrary. Why, itstopped the big pile from coming to the top, when even you went down theriver."
"Well, now, that explains a thing or two," said the Sawyer, smilingpeacefully, and beginning to think of another pipe, if preparation meantany thing. "Two things have puzzled me about that stump, and, indeed,I might say three things. Why did he take such a time to drive? and whywould he never stand up like a man? and why wouldn't he go away when heought to?"
"Because he had the best of all reasons, Uncle Sam. He was anchoredon his gold, as I have read in French, and he had a good right to becrooked about it, and no power could get him away from it."
"Hush, my dear, hush! It is not at all good for young people to lettheir minds run on so. But this gold looks very good indeed. Are yousure that it is a fair sample, and that there is any more of it?"
"How can you be so dreadfully provoking, Uncle Sam, when I tell you thatI saw it with my own eyes? And there must be at least half a ton of it."
"Well, half a hundred-weight will be enough for me. And you shall haveall the rest, my dear--that is, if you will spare me a bit, Miss Remy.It all belongs to you by discovery, according to the diggers' law. Andyour eyes are so bright about it, miss, that the whole of your heartmust be running upon it."
"Then you think me as bad as the rest of the world! How I wish that Ihad never seen it! It was only for you that I cared about it--for you,for you; and I will never touch a scrap of it."
Mr. Gundry had only been trying me, perhaps. But I did not see it inthat light, and burst into a flood of childish tears, that he shouldmisunderstand me so. Gold had its usual end, in grief. Uncle Sam rose upto soothe me and to beg my pardon, and to say that perhaps he was harshbecause of the treatment he had received from his friends. He took me inhis arms and kissed me; but before I could leave off sobbing, the crackof a rifle rang through the house, and Suan Isco, with a wail, rushedout.
Erema; Or, My Father's Sin Page 12