The Preacher of Cedar Mountain

by Ernest Thompson Seton

  Jim always dropped in for a chat in the morning and it was not long before his cheery whistle sounded as down the street he came to the tune of "Merry Bandon Town." In his right hand he twirled a stout stick in a way that suggested a very practical knowledge of the shillelah. The flush of health and of youth suffused his cheeks and mounted to his forehead. All signs of worry over his impending fate were gone; indeed, no worry could live long in his buoyant mind; its tense electric chargement was sure death to all such microbes. Arrived at the Boyds', he did not stop to open the five-foot gate. Laying his fingers on the post, he vaulted over the pickets.

  Belle met him on the porch. From somewhere back, Ma Boyd called out a thin-voiced "good morning," as they went into the front room.

  "My little girl looks pale to-day," he said, as he held her at arm's length.

  "Yes, I didn't sleep well. I wish I could get out for a few hours. Can't you take me?"

  "Sure, that's what I came for," he answered gaily.

  "I don't feel much like riding, Jim. Can you get a good buckboard?"

  "Why, yes, of course I can. Carson says I can have his double-harness buckboard any time, ponies and all."

  "Good! Just the thing. I want to go out to Bylow's Corner to make a call, and maybe farther, if we can manage. I'll be ready by the time you are here with the rig."

  She went to her desk and wrote a note to her father. Somehow, mother didn't seem to count.

  Dear Dad: If I am not home to-night, I shall be with Aunt Collins.

  Lovingly, Belle.

  Then she put it in his tobacco jar, where he would be certain to see it on coming home for dinner, and where Ma Boyd would never dream of looking.

  When Jim returned she carried a hand-bag: "Some things I need," and she laughed happily as he lifted her into the rig and inquired if she wasn't taking a trunk. Then away they went, as they had so many times before.

  Youth and health, love and beauty; October and the Dakota Hills—what a wonderful conjunction! The world can do no better to multiply the joy of being alive. If either had a care, it was quickly buried out of sight. Jim was in rollicking mood. Not a prairie dog sat up and shook its tail in time to its voice, but Jim's humour suggested resemblances to some one that they knew; this one looked like Baxter, the fat parson of the Congregationalists; "that little one's name is likely Higginbotham; see how Hannah makes him skip around. And there goes Lawyer Scrimmons," he chuckled, as a blotched, bloated rattlesnake oozed along and out of sight at the hint of danger. Two owls that gazed and blinked in silence were named for a pair of fat twin sisters of their church; perfectly well-meaning, but without a word of conversation or any expression but their soulful eyes. And a solitary owl that gazed from the top of a post straight up in the sky was compared to an old-time Methodist woman with her eyes uplifted in prayer while the collection plate was shoved under her nose.

  Bylow's Corner was reached all too soon. As Jim was about to draw up Belle said: "Let's go on farther; we can take them in on the road back. Let's go as far as Lookout Mountain." And Jim was happy to go.

  They were six miles from Cedar Mountain now, with no more houses by the road for miles. Belle had fallen silent. It was all as she had planned, but somehow the firm resolve of the night before seemed open to question now. She gazed absently away over the level, toward a distant hillside, and the smile faded from her lips. To his next light speech she barely made response. He threatened to charge a "thank you ma'am" at high speed if she didn't laugh. Then, getting no response, he burst out:

  "What the divil is the matter with my little girl to-day? Have ye anything on your mind, Belle?"

  This was the fork in their trail: either she must tell him or give him up. For a fraction of an instant she lived through the agony of doubt. Then, with a certainty she had not thought possible, she said: "Yes, Jim, I surely have."

  "Well, shake it off, Belle. Let some other mind have it. Use mine, if you'll allow that I have one."

  "I haven't slept all night for thinking of it, Jim," she began.

  "Thinking of what?"

  "Your going away."

  His face clouded; he became suddenly silent and she continued:

  "Jim, dear, I've tried to keep my feelings out of it altogether; I've argued it out, using nothing but my judgment, and it seemed the wise thing for you to go back East to college. All my judgment says: 'send him back'; but, oh, all my instincts say 'keep him here.'" She covered both his hands with hers and put her cheek on them for a moment.

  "I'm always trying to be wise, Jim, but I suppose I'm really very stupid and very weak like most humans; and there come times when I feel like kicking everything over and saying 'what's the use?' This time I'm going to let my feelings hold the reins."

  "Why, Belle darling! That sounds more like me than you."

  "Jim, as I lay awake last night, a voice seemed to be sounding in my heart: 'Don't let him go. If he goes, you'll lose him, you'll lose each other.' Jim, do you suppose God brought you and me together in this way, to be so much to each other, to be exactly fitted to round out each other's life, to let us separate now?"

  "Belle, I believe He sent me out here to meet you, and any one coming between us is going against God."

  "I know, Jim. And yet I have the feeling, which I can't shake off, that as sure as you go back to college, I shall lose you."

  "Then, by Heaven! I won't go; and that settles it, Belle. I'll chuck the whole thing." And his forehead flushed with passion.

  She dropped her face on her knees and shook in a paroxysm of weeping. All the emotional side of her nature—so carefully repressed throughout these weeks and months of struggle—swept away their barriers. Now that she had spoken the fear that was in her heart, the reality of the danger that threatened their happiness crushed her down. Jim threw his arm around her. "Belle, Belle, I can't see you cry that way. Belle, don't! We are not going to part."

  It was long before she found her voice. In broken sounds she sobbed: "I can't give you up now," and she leaned toward him though still she hid her face.

  "Belle, why do you talk of such a thing? You won't give me up, because I won't let you. I won't go, Belle, that's settled."

  Her only answer was to cling to him passionately. After a long silence, during which the ponies dropped to a walk, she said half questioningly:

  "Jim, we can't—give up all and—and—separate now."

  "Belle darling," and Jim suddenly became calm and clear in thought, and a strange new sense of power came on him as he gripped himself, "there are times when a man must just take the bit in his teeth and break through everything, and I'm going to do that now. There's just one way out of this; we're half-way to Deadwood. Let's go right on and get married. The college and everything else can go to the divil so long as I can be with you.

  "Will you agree to that?" he asked, lifting her head from his shoulder and looking into her eyes.

  "Jim," she said, pushing him gently away from her and leaning back so that they occupied the sides of the wide seat, "let's be fair with each other. For a long time you've had your fling at the hardship of going back to Coulter while I have urged you to go. This is my fling at it"—she smiled at him through her tears—"my rebellion, so perhaps we're quits. But the problem still remains. I thought about it all last night and I decided I could not let you go—that it meant the end of our hopes. When you first asked me, up the road, I doubted my right to tell you the fears I had. But, oh, Jim, it is our happiness, ours, not yours or mine alone. If we have that we can make the rest come right. If we lose that——"

  "But we're not going to lose it," he cried, "if you'll only answer my question, Will you marry me to-day if we go on to Deadwood?" He put out his arms to her and she yielded with a happy sob to his ardour. Holding her and pressing his lips to hers, he said simply: "I am very happy."

  After a little while she took his head between her palms and looking into his face with eyes that sought his spirit, as though she would pledge her faith to his, she sa
id: "You will never be sorry for this, darling."

  * * *

  At Lookout Mountain was the half-way house. They fed their horses, rested an hour, and then sped on. At four o'clock they reached Deadwood. Jim put up the horses at the little inn, whose parlour he remembered; together they went to the jeweller's shop, purchased a ring, and then to the mayor's office.

  The great man was busy with affairs of State, but the world has a kindly heart for lovers and the experienced official can recognize them afar. He glanced over a crowd of many men advancing various claims, and said, with a knowing smile, "Hello!"

  "License," was all Jim said, and a subdued "Ha, Ha!" was the amused response.

  The mayor pulled out a drawer, produced a form, and rattled off the usual questions: Name? Age? Married before? etc., filling it in; then did the same for Belle. "Now stand up. You swear to the truth of each and all of the statements?" Each of them raised a hand and swore.

  "Want to finish it up now?" said the mayor.

  "Yes."

  "Put on the ring and hold her hand." Jim did so. The mayor stood up, holding their clasped hands in his left. He raised his right and said: "James and Belle, in accordance with the laws of the United States and of the State of Dakota, I pronounce you man and wife." He signed the paper, gave each in turn the pen to sign, and said, "Now I want another witness."

  "Sure, I'd like to be in on that there dokiment," said a rough voice.

  "Can you write?"

  "Bet your life I can."

  A big heavy man came forward; the mayor handed him the pen; and, after the word "Witness" he wrote, "Pat Bylow, of Cedar Mountain"; and then with a friendly grin he offered his hand to the Preacher, and they gripped hands for the first time.

  "Two dollars, please," said the mayor.

  Jim paid it, and he and Belle stepped forth as man and wife.

  * * *

  CHAPTER XLVI

  What Next?

  According to an ancient custom, the newly wed should cease from their calling in life and disappear for a time, and the practice has long been well honoured by observance. But Mr. and Mrs. Hartigan had large and immediate problems to face. They breakfasted at Aunt Collins's and set out at once for Cedar Mountain. Belle was quite aware, reasonably and instinctively, that she must expect a reaction in Jim after the emotional outburst that had led him so far from their sober plan of a week before; and she exerted herself to fill every minute with the interests of this new life they had begun. But she was not prepared for something which did begin. From that hour of the great decision Jim seemed bigger and stronger. She had been thinking of him as a promising child. Now he was her equal in the world of affairs. He was growing faster than she. They were near the edge of the town when she saw a cottage with the sign up, "To let." It was very attractive in its fresh paint and obviously it had just been finished.

  "Jim, maybe that was made for us. Let's see it." They tied up the horses and entered. It was indeed small. The Preacher had to stoop at the front doorway and turn side-wise to enter the cellarway, but it was clean and prettily placed with a view to the south, and had four rooms and cellar.

  Belle gazed from the window through the gap between the hills and said, "I wish I knew some things that I will know within a week"; then, after a pause, "but I don't; let's go."

  As they were getting into the buckboard Jim remembered having left behind a package which Aunt Collins wished to send to her sister, Mrs. Boyd. As they drove hastily back they met a new, strange sight in Deadwood. A man in a sort of military uniform was marching along carrying a big drum which he pounded rhythmically; behind him were a dozen men and women in poke bonnets and blue skirts. Above them was a flag inscribed "Salvation Army." They stopped to sing a hymn, and were soon surrounded by a crowd of people who made scoffing remarks. The leader prayed, and all joined in a warlike hymn punctuated by the thunderous drum.

  There can be no question of the power of the drum on simple and primitive natures. Something in Jim responded to it at once. The commonplace words of the commonplace leader were without power to move, and the droning hymn was soporific rather than inspiring; but the rhythmic thump, thump, thump, seemed to strike the chords of his being; and a hypnotic tensity began. He gazed at the sad face of the fanatic, and forgot everything else, till Belle roused him with a businesslike, "Let's go, Jim."

  Arrived at Cedar Mountain, they knew at once from the smiles and greetings of a few friends whom they met that the town had heard the news. They went to the Boyd home where Ma Boyd wept and feebly scolded, then wept some more. Pa Boyd said "Humph!" Loading his pipe he smoked in silence for five minutes and then began to laugh quietly. At length, clapping Hartigan good-naturedly on the back, he observed: "Well, boys will be boys. But I did think Belle was too level-headed and businesslike to go off on a panicky proposition like this. Howsomever, it's done; now the question is, what next? I can forgive; folks can forgive, but the Church won't. Now what's next?"

  Seeing that the home folks were well enough disposed, Jim didn't wait to discuss details but set out alone to call on the Rev. Dr. Jebb. Mrs. Jebb opened the door herself and looking up at the handsome face she laid her hand on his arm with a pleased laugh and said: "Good for you!"

  Dr. Jebb was very grave. "My dear boy, don't you see how serious it is?"

  "Just as serious as it can be, doctor; I know that," and Jim laughed.

  "But do you realize you have broken with the Church? You cannot go to college now. You are out of a living. You must think about some other means of livelihood."

  "All of which I know, and knew when I took this step."

  "As your pastor, I must chide you severely," said Jebb; "as your superior officer, I must pay you the twenty-five dollars that is your full and quit payment of salary up to October thirty-first; as the head of this body in Cedar Mountain, I must notify you that your connection with the congregation as assistant pastor is ended; as your brother in Christ, I invoke God's blessing on your somewhat hasty action; and, as your friend and Belle's, I offer you my poor help in whatsoever way I can serve you." And as Jim took his leave, much touched by the old doctor's gentleness, the pastor followed him to the door with his wife. With one of his sudden happy impulses Jim stooped and kissed Mrs. Jebb and the two old people were still in the doorway watching him as he turned for a final wave at the gate.

  The blacksmith shop was the next place of call. Not that Jim sought it, but he couldn't well avoid it, and he was hailed by all as he came near. Shives came forward in his characteristic way, holding out his hand. "Wall, wall! Now I know you are human in spite of your job! You've gone up about ten pegs in my scale."

  Carson was there and met him with a broad grin. "So that's what you borrowed my team for? Ho, ho! Well, I'll forgive you, if you bring them back and promise not to get the habit."

  After much well-wishing Jim started down the street. He had only gone a short distance when the sound of some one running and calling his name made him halt. It was Higginbotham who had hastened on the first news of his arrival to make a business proposition. "Of course, I know, Jim, that you are a capitalist, and Hannah and me have been thinking it would be a good idea to establish a branch in Deadwood. Hannah is 'round calling on Belle, to fix it up."

  As indeed she was at that very moment. Jim got the whole project from Belle on his return, but there were serious difficulties in the way of Hannah's scheme. Jim had no taste or capacity for business. All Belle's time would be needed for the household. Furthermore, Jim still felt that the ministry was his calling. They pondered it long and discussed it freely. Belle knew she could make the business a success, but it would be by sacrificing many things that they had dreamed of and planned for their first home. That night they kneeled down together and prayed for the guidance of the Great Guide. Jim opened the Bible three times, with his eyes closed, and laid his finger at hazard on a text, and these were the three that decided his fate: Kings, XIX:20—And he said unto him Go back again. 2 Thess. II:13—God hath from th
e beginning chosen you to salvation. Daniel IV:35—According to his will in the army of heaven.

  "There, Belle, could anything be plainer? We are ordered back to Deadwood. I must join the Salvation Army."

  Belle was torn between her business instincts, her religious training, and her absolute devotion to her hero. But whatever the sum total, thus much all things agreed on: they must get away from Cedar Mountain. Whither? There seemed no answer but Deadwood.

  The next day Mrs. Jebb gave a reception for the young people and Cedar Mountain turned out strong. Three was the hour named, and at four the parsonage was full. Belle was dressed in the simple gray that intensified her colour, her brown eyes and gold-brown hair were shining; standing at the end of the parlour she looked very lovely, and all Cedar Mountain glowed with pride in her.

  Jim was in his glory. He frolicked with everybody and was in the midst of a gallant speech to Shives's daughter when some one tapped his arm and dragged him off. It was John Higginbotham, anxious to get his scheme more clearly into Jim's mind. "Not only was the main line of insurance good, but everything pointed to a land boom soon in Deadwood. Once the boom struck, the insurance could be temporarily sidetracked. Then, allowing seven hundred and fifty dollars capital, of which five hundred dollars could be invested in lots on 10 per cent. margin, this would secure five thousand dollars' worth of lots, or fifty small lots at present prices; in the ordinary course of the boom, this would speedily reach fifty thousand dollars, when, of course, he would sell and——"

  "Hartigan!" cried a voice. "Who, in Heaven's name, is concealing you? Oh, here you are." It was Dr. Carson. "I've been thinking of you a lot ever since this news broke and I've decided that you are more like a man than a preacher. Why don't you cut out all this piffling holy talk and go in for something you can do? Now, my theory is that each man can do some one thing better than any one else; and, if he has the luck to have that one thing for his life calling, he's going to make a success. You know horses better than any man I know. You knew enough to steal my team, for example, when you meant to elope."