The Westerners

by Stewart Edward White

  XXVII

  PROSPERITY

  Billy did not think so, however. He posed to himself as the mostindustrious man in the territory. He had so much to see to that year,for throughout the mild winter that succeeded he had pushed forwardwith the greatest rapidity all work on the Great Snake and its sisterclaims. The log structures, the plans of which he had displayed toLafond, were completed, so far as the mere erection of them went,within a fortnight. Billy gave a great deal of personal direction tothis work; but after all it was simple enough, so he managed to chinkin a moment here and there for the completion of certain bargains whichcame to him. For instance, a man in Spring Creek Valley offered eightdraught horses at a marvellously low figure. That made two teams.Billy did not need two teams just then; but of course later, when themill was up, he would need a great many more than two teams for thepurpose of carting ore; and it seemed criminal to let such a bargaingo. Then he found he required a man to take care of them. Some dayslater he came to the conclusion that it would be good economy to buythe ore wagons now instead of waiting until later, for the followingingenious reason: the horses must be fed; hay costs fifteen dollars aton in the hills and five on the prairie; with wagons the horses couldbe utilized to haul their own forage from the plains at a net saving often dollars a ton on all consumed. So Billy placed an order for twoheavy wagons, and dismissed the matter from his mind until they weredelivered. During the interim he sat on top of a ladder and dabbedcontentedly at a scroll-work cornice with a small red paint brush.

  From that elevation he bought a whim, also a bargain. The man wasanxious to sell, and it was a very good whim. To be sure one mighthave argued that inasmuch as whims are machines for hauling ore fromdepths which Billy's operations would not attain for a year at least,the purchase was a little premature; but then it is equally certainthat all mines own whims, and another opportunity for getting one socheap might never again present itself.

  When the wagons came, he and the man drove fifty miles to Rapid, wherethey hobnobbed with Tom Sweeny and looked over his establishment.Billy bought his household goods. He also took a fancy to some largebrass-bound collar hoods for the horses which he had marked with thecompany's initials "G. S. M. & M. Co.," also in brass. The return tripwas made with difficulty on account of the low-hanging branches oftrees. Then Billy spent an ecstatic week distributing things to suithim.

  The work in the shafts went steadily forward. Billy was willing tooffer a bonus on the contract price for a quick job, so the contractorstook on extra men. They averaged almost a foot and a half a day, whichis wonderfully good. The work indeed went on so well that Billy saw hewould need the mill sooner than he had expected, so he resolved tobegin its erection at once. He hired all the available men, but soonfound that he would have to seek elsewhere for a gang adequate to suchan undertaking. He imported one from Rockerville. As the winter cameon, he found it expedient to start the boarding house in order, as hesaid, "To get those cusses up in the mornin' afore the sun sets." Themove necessitated a cook and "cookee," and the weekly purchase ofprovisions. Since he had the men handy, he argued, there was no reasonwhy he should not finish up the small details and odds and ends of thecamp in a respectable manner, and so he made many little extraneousimprovements, such as a flag pole and a rockery of pink quartz from theCuster trail. Three or four were always away from the mill, levellingup, clearing out or decorating. From Kansas City he imported somechickens with crested heads and a number of pigeons of ancient lineage.The latter promptly flew back to Kansas City. As the novelty of themhad worn off Billy took their loss philosophically. In regard toexternals the camp began to wear a very prosperous air.

  Copper Creek too was busy. Over forty men were hard at work on theGreat Snake itself. Upward of fifty claims were in the course ofdevelopment near at hand. With the completion of the mill would beginthe crushing of ore; with the crushing of ore would begin the camp'scommercial output; with that, provided it were satisfactory, would comemore capitalists anxious to invest. It behooved the claim owner tohave his exhibit of shaft and tunnel ready for the public inspection.When you reflect that three men usually worked on a claim and thatCopper Creek's entire population at that date was a little over twohundred and fifty, you can readily see that it was indeed a livelycamp. Even those who were not actually engaged in prospectingoperations found their time fully occupied in providing for those whowere. Black Jack had an assistant now. Moroney's paper came out asoften as once a fortnight and was beginning to be mentioned by the_Deadwood Miner_ as "our esteemed contemporary." Bill Martin had beenseen sweeping out his own office. The dozen of women and girls who haddrifted in with newcomers, scrubbed, cooked, washed and sewed in astruggle to keep even with muddy boots, miners' appetites, and thedestructive demands of miners' work. Even Frosty improved hiscustomary mooning slouch.

  The men who seemed to enjoy unlimited leisure could be counted on thefingers of one hand. Cheyenne Harry laughed at it all. His one claimwas known to be a mere excuse for existence, a symbolic reason for hisconnection with Copper Creek. Everybody knew really why he stayed. Hewas supposed to be independently rich, though none claimed anyknowledge of how he came to be so. Then there was the gambler, thefaro man, who sat on the hotel "porch" all the morning smoking endlesscigarettes, his broad straight hat tipped a little sideways, hismoustache brushed neatly away to show his white teeth, his fineinscrutable eyes looking cynically from his equally fine clear-cutface, speaking seldom, smiling never, imperturbable, indifferent,cat-like. And there was Durand, but he did not count. And there wasMichail Lafond.

  To be sure the half-breed was building a new dance hall, to which thecamp entire looked with anticipatory delight, but that was a matter offour walls and a smooth floor. He needed only to give his orders.After a perfunctory morning inspection he had the day to himself.

  The work at the Great Snake interested him, as it did everybody. Heoccupied the morning about the works, poking into odd corners,questioning the workmen, making suggestions to Billy. He sent thehorse dealer to Billy, and mentioned to the whim man that he might finda purchaser there. He often was enabled in his vaster leisure toperceive the little things that lacked and to point out their necessityto Billy, which individual was of course always duly grateful andhastened at once to remedy the defect. After a more or less lengthenedvisit the half-breed returned to camp. If it happened still to lacksome time until dinner, he called on Moroney in the editorial rooms orexchanged sententious comments with Bill Martin, or chatted with one orthe other of the visitors who happened to be in town. After dinner hedisappeared until supper. The time was spent with Durand. Theassaying was long since finished, but the two men had grown fond ofeach other's companionship. It was a silent companionship for the mostpart. Lafond smoked interminably his short black pipe, turned upsidedown, watching the naturalist setting carefully the delicate wings of abutterfly or arranging in a paper cylinder the skin of a bird, orsearching, spectacled, in black volumes of Government reports.Occasionally, when Durand looked up from his absorption, they exchangeda few swift remarks, elided, compressed, telegraphic; for theyunderstood each other so well that the unabridged form of speech was nolonger necessary. On fine days they beat the brushy creek bottoms forthe _Nitra_, the rare _Papilo_ which men supposed to be extinct. Andthen, after the early darkness of winter fell, they would be seized bystrange obsessions of loquacity. Jacques, the raccoon, a ball of furunder the faint red stove, blinked at them shrewdly, wondering what itwas all about.

  In the evening, of course, Lafond had the Little Nugget to take careof. The saloon had as yet no rivals. The size of the town perhapswarranted another establishment, but Lafond was a monopolist by nature.He treated the men well, with a geniality behind which were unsoundeddepths of reserve. Therefore they respected him. The space about theiron stove before the bar came to be the Town Hall. Matters of publicimportance were discussed every evening. Billy there told things heought not to have told. The atmosphere wa
s expansive, encouraged oneto show off. After one had recounted the obvious, one was inclined inthe heat of the moment to fall back on the confidential, merely forlack of something else to say. The camp to a man knew the amount ofBilly's expenditures, the number of his shafts. It heard extracts fromall his letters to and from the East. It was acquainted with all hisand the Company's plans. A good many of the cooler heads felt theintrinsic injudiciousness of this; but after all there could be notraitors among them, because in the end the prosperity of every manpresent depended on Billy's success.

  But while the Great Snake was the main topic of conversation, andalways remained ultimately the most important, its present interest, asspring drew near, became overshadowed by that of the new dance hall.

  The Westerner loves to dance. A street organ sets him shuffling. Hewill drive twenty miles in a springless wagon and twenty miles backagain in the grayness of dawn to stamp his feet to the sound of anaccordion. Every camp has its organized dance joint, a sort of hallmark of its genuineness as a camp. Now with the approach of the datefor formal opening this long musicless community woke up to itsdeprivation. All the details of the new establishment were enjoyed inanticipation. It had a planed floor. The boards had been brought bywagon from McGuire's mill at Hermosa. It was to be lighted by reallocomotive lanterns of an impressive but meaningless number of candlepower. It was to be entirely draped with flags. The musicians were tobe imported from Spanish Gulch. Lafond dispensed this and similarinformation sparingly, in order that it might be made the most of. Hepromised the "opening ball" for May if possible.

  "That depends, of course," he always concluded his statements, short orlong.