by Bret Harte
discoveriesas "ignus fatuus rock," "splendiferous drift," "mica twist" (recallinga popular species of tobacco), "iron pirates," and "discomposed quartz"as part of what he not inaptly called a "tautological formation," andwere happy. Nor was our contentment marred by the fact that thewell-known scientific authority with whom the stranger had beenintimate,--to the point of "sleeping together" during a survey,--andwhom he described as a bent old man with spectacles, must have agedconsiderably since one of our party saw him three years before as akeen young fellow of twenty-five. Inaccuracies like those were onlythe carelessness of genius. "That's my opinion, gentlemen," heconcluded, negligently rising, and with pointed preoccupation whippingthe dust of Eureka Gulch from his clothes with his handkerchief, "butof course it ain't nothin' to me."
Captain Jim, who had followed every word with deep and trustfulabsorption, here repeated, "It ain't nothing to him, boys," with aconfidential implication of the gratuitous blessing we had received,and then added, with loyal encouragement to him, "It ain't nothing toyou, Lacy, in course," and laid his hand on his shoulder with infinitetenderness.
We, however, endeavored to make it something to Mr. Lacy Bassett. Hewas spontaneously offered a share in the company and a part of CaptainJim's tent. He accepted both after a few deprecating and mutteredasides to Captain Jim, which the latter afterwards explained to us wasthe giving up of several other important enterprises for our sake.When he finally strolled away with Rowley to look over the gulch,Captain Jim reluctantly tore himself away from him only for thepleasure of reiterating his praise to us as if in strictest confidenceand as an entirely novel proceeding.
"You see, boys, I didn't like to say it afore HIM, we bein' oldfriends; but, between us, that young feller ez worth thousands to thecamp. Mebbee," he continued with grave naivete, "I ain't said muchabout him afore, mebbee, bein' old friends and accustomed to him--youknow how it is, boys,--I haven't appreciated him as much ez I ought,and ez you do. In fact, I don't ezakly remember how I kem to ask himdown yer. It came to me suddent, one day only a week ago Friday night,thar under that buckeye; I was thinkin' o' one of his sayins, and sezI--thar's Lacy, if he was here he'd set the hull thing right. It wasthe ghost of a chance my findin' him free, but I did. And there HE is,and yer WE are settled! Ye noticed how he just knocked the bottomouter our plans to work. Ye noticed that quick sort o' sneerin' smileo' his, didn't ye--that's Lacy! I've seen him knock over a heap o'things without sayin' anythin'--with jist that smile."
It occurred to us that we might have some difficulty in utilizing thissmile in our present affairs, and that we should have probablypreferred something more assuring, but Captain Jim's faith wascontagious.
"What is he, anyway?" asked Joe Walker lazily.
"Eh!" echoed Captain Jim in astonishment. "What is Lacy Bassett?"
"Yes, what is he?" repeated Walker.
"Wot IS--he?"
"Yes."
"I've knowed him now goin' as four year," said Captain Jim with slowreflective contentment. "Let's see. It was in the fall o' '54 I firstmet him, and he's allus been the same ez you see him now."
"But what is his business or profession? What does he do?"
Captain Jim looked reproachfully at his questioner.
"Do?" he repeated, turning to the rest of us as if disdaining a directreply. "Do?--why, wot he's doin' now. He's allus the same, allus LacyBassett."
Howbeit, we went to work the next day under the superintendence of thestranger with youthful and enthusiastic energy, and began the sinkingof a shaft at once. To do Captain Jim's friend justice, for the firstfew weeks he did not shirk a fair share of the actual labor, replacinghis objectionable and unsuitable finery with a suit of serviceableworking clothes got together by general contribution of the camp, andassuring us of a fact we afterwards had cause to remember, that "hebrought nothing but himself into Eureka Gulch." It may be added thathe certainly had not brought money there, as Captain Jim advanced thesmall amounts necessary for his purchases in the distant settlement,and for the still smaller sums he lost at cards, which he played withcharacteristic self-sufficiency.
Meantime the work in the shaft progressed slowly but regularly. Evenwhen the novelty had worn off and the excitement of anticipation grewfainter, I am afraid that we clung to this new form of occupation as anapology for remaining there; for the fascinations of our vagabond andunconventional life were more potent than we dreamed of. We wereslowly fettered by our very freedom; there was a strange spell in thisvery boundlessness of our license that kept us from even the desire ofchange; in the wild and lawless arms of nature herself we found anembrace as clinging, as hopeless and restraining, as the civilizationfrom which we had fled. We were quite content after a few hours' workin the shaft to lie on our backs on the hillside staring at theunwinking sky, or to wander with a gun through the virgin forest insearch of game scarcely less vagabond than ourselves. We indulged inthe most extravagant and dreamy speculations of the fortune we shouldeventually discover in the shaft, and believed that we were practical.We broke our "saleratus bread" with appetites unimpaired byrestlessness or anxiety; we went to sleep under the grave and sedatestars with a serene consciousness of having fairly earned our rest; weawoke the next morning with unabated trustfulness, and a sweetobliviousness of even the hypothetical fortunes we had perhaps won orlost at cards overnight. We paid no heed to the fact that our littlecapital was slowly sinking with the shaft, and that the rainyseason--wherein not only "no man could work," but even such play asours was impossible--was momentarily impending.
In the midst of this, one day Lacy Bassett suddenly emerged from theshaft before his "shift" of labor was over with every sign of disgustand rage in his face and inarticulate with apparent passion. In vainwe gathered round him in concern; in vain Captain Jim regarded him withalmost feminine sympathy, as he flung away his pick and dashed his hatto the ground.
"What's up, Lacy, old pard? What's gone o' you?" said Captain Jimtenderly.
"Look!" gasped Lacy at last, when every eye was on him, holding up asmall fragment of rock before us and the next moment grinding it underhis heel in rage. "Look! To think that I've been fooled agin by thisblanked fossiliferous trap--blank it! To think that after me andProfessor Parker was once caught jist in this way up on the Stanislausat the bottom of a hundred-foot shaft by this rotten trap--that yer Iam--bluffed agin!"
There was a dead silence; we looked at each other blankly.
"But, Bassett," said Walker, picking up a part of the fragment, "we'vebeen finding this kind of stuff for the last two weeks."
"But how?" returned Lacy, turning upon him almost fiercely. "Did yefind it superposed on quartz, or did you find it NOT superposed onquartz? Did you find it in volcanic drift, or did ye find it in oldred-sandstone or coarse illuvion? Tell me that, and then ye kin talk.But this yer blank fossiliferous trap, instead o' being superposed ontop, is superposed on the bottom. And that means"--
"What?" we all asked eagerly.
"Why--blank it all--that this yer convulsion of nature, thisprehistoric volcanic earthquake, instead of acting laterally andchuckin' the stream to one side, has been revolutionary and turned theold river-bed bottom-side up, and yer d--d cement hez got half theglobe atop of it! Ye might strike it from China, but nowhere else."
We continued to look at one another, the older members with darkeningfaces, the younger with a strong inclination to laugh. Captain Jim, whohad been concerned only in his friend's emotion, and who was hangingwith undisguised satisfaction on these final convincing proofs of hissuperior geological knowledge, murmured approvingly and confidingly,"He's right, boys! Thar ain't another man livin' ez could give you thelaw and gospil like that! Ye can tie to what he says. That's Lacy allover."
Two weeks passed. We had gathered, damp and disconsolate, in the onlyavailable shelter of the camp. For the long summer had endedunexpectedly to us; we had one day found ourselves caught like theimprovident insect of the child's fable with gauzy and unseasonablewings wet and
bedraggled in the first rains, homeless and hopeless. Thescientific Lacy, who lately spent most of his time as a bar-room oraclein the settlement, was away, and from our dripping canvas we could seeCaptain Jim returning from a visit to him, slowly plodding along thetrail towards us.
"It's no use, boys," said Rowley, summarizing the result of ourconference, "we must speak out to him, and if nobody else cares to doit I will. I don't know why we should be more mealy-mouthed