by Owen Wister
XVIII. "WOULD YOU BE A PARSON?"
After this I gave up my experiments in conversation. So that by thefinal afternoon of our journey, with Sunk Creek actually in sight, andthe great grasshoppers slatting their dry song over the sage-brush, andthe time at hand when the Virginian and Trampas would be "man to man,"my thoughts rose to a considerable pitch of speculation.
And now that talking part of the Virginian, which had been nine daysasleep, gave its first yawn and stretch of waking. Without preface, hesuddenly asked me, "Would you be a parson?"
I was mentally so far away that I couldn't get back in time tocomprehend or answer before he had repeated: "What would yu' take to bea parson?"
He drawled it out in his gentle way, precisely as if no nine days stoodbetween it and our last real intercourse.
"Take?" I was still vaguely moving in my distance. "How?"
His next question brought me home.
"I expect the Pope's is the biggest of them parson jobs?"
It was with an "Oh!" that I now entirely took his idea. "Well, yes;decidedly the biggest."
"Beats the English one? Archbishop--ain't it?--of Canterbury? The Popecomes ahead of him?"
"His Holiness would say so if his Grace did not."
The Virginian turned half in his saddle to see my face--I was, at themoment, riding not quite abreast of him--and I saw the gleam of histeeth beneath his mustache. It was seldom I could make him smile, evento this slight extent. But his eyes grew, with his next words, remoteagain in their speculation.
"His Holiness and his Grace. Now if I was to hear 'em namin' methat-a-way every mawnin', I'd sca'cely get down to business."
"Oh, you'd get used to the pride of it."
"'Tisn't the pride. The laugh is what would ruin me. 'Twould take 'mostall my attention keeping a straight face. The Archbishop"--here hetook one of his wide mental turns--"is apt to be a big man in themShakespeare plays. Kings take talk from him they'd not stand fromanybody else; and he talks fine, frequently. About the bees, forinstance, when Henry is going to fight France. He tells him a beehiveis similar to a kingdom. I learned that piece." The Virginian could nothave expected to blush at uttering these last words. He knew that hissudden color must tell me in whose book it was he had learned the piece.Was not her copy of Kenilworth even now in his cherishing pocket? Sohe now, to cover his blush, very deliberately recited to me theArchbishop's discourse upon bees and their kingdom:
"'Where some, like magistrates, correct at home... Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make loot upon the summer's velvet buds; Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent-royal of their emperor: He, busied in his majesty, surveys The singing masons building roofs of gold.'
"Ain't that a fine description of bees a-workin'? 'The singing masonsbuilding roofs of gold!' Puts 'em right before yu', and is poetrywithout bein' foolish. His Holiness and his Grace. Well, they could nothire me for either o' those positions. How many religions are there?"
"All over the earth?"
"Yu' can begin with ourselves. Right hyeh at home I know there'sRomanists, and Episcopals--"
"Two kinds!" I put in. "At least two of Episcopals."
"That's three. Then Methodists and Baptists, and--"
"Three Methodists!"
"Well, you do the countin'."
I accordingly did it, feeling my revolving memory slip cogs all the wayround. "Anyhow, there are safely fifteen."
"Fifteen." He held this fact a moment. "And they don't worship a wholeheap o' different gods like the ancients did?"
"Oh, no!"
"It's just the same one?"
"The same one."
The Virginian folded his hands over the horn of his saddle, and leanedforward upon them in contemplation of the wide, beautiful landscape.
"One God and fifteen religions," was his reflection. "That's a rightsmart of religions for just one God."
This way of reducing it was, if obvious to him, so novel to me that mylaugh evidently struck him as a louder and livelier comment than wasrequired. He turned on me as if I had somehow perverted the spirit ofhis words.
"I ain't religious. I know that. But I ain't unreligious. And I knowthat too."
"So do I know it, my friend."
"Do you think there ought to be fifteen varieties of good people?" Hisvoice, while it now had an edge that could cut anything it came against,was still not raised. "There ain't fifteen. There ain't two. There's onekind. And when I meet it, I respect it. It is not praying nor preachingthat has ever caught me and made me ashamed of myself, but one or twopeople I have knowed that never said a superior word to me. They thoughtmore o' me than I deserved, and that made me behave better than Inaturally wanted to. Made me quit a girl onced in time for her not tolose her good name. And so that's one thing I have never done. And ifever I was to have a son or somebody I set store by, I would wish theirlot to be to know one or two good folks mighty well--men or women--womenpreferred."
He had looked away again to the hills behind Sunk Creek ranch, to whichour walking horses had now almost brought us.
"As for parsons "--the gesture of his arm was a disclaiming one--"Ireckon some parsons have a right to tell yu' to be good. The bishopof this hyeh Territory has a right. But I'll tell yu' this: a middlin'doctor is a pore thing, and a middlin' lawyer is a pore thing; but keepme from a middlin' man of God."
Once again he had reduced it, but I did not laugh this time. I thoughtthere should in truth be heavy damages for malpractice on human souls.But the hot glow of his words, and the vision of his deepest inner manit revealed, faded away abruptly.
"What do yu' make of the proposition yondeh?" As he pointed to the causeof this question he had become again his daily, engaging, saturnineself.
Then I saw over in a fenced meadow, to which we were now close, what hewas pleased to call "the proposition." Proposition in the West does, infact, mean whatever you at the moment please,--an offer to sell you amine, a cloud-burst, a glass of whiskey, a steamboat. This time it meanta stranger clad in black, and of a clerical deportment which would inthat atmosphere and to a watchful eye be visible for a mile or two.
"I reckoned yu' hadn't noticed him," was the Virginian's reply to myejaculation. "Yes. He set me goin' on the subject a while back. I expecthe is another missionary to us pore cow-boys."
I seemed from a hundred yards to feel the stranger's forcefulpersonality. It was in his walk--I should better say stalk--as hepromenaded along the creek. His hands were behind his back, and therewas an air of waiting, of displeased waiting, in his movement.
"Yes, he'll be a missionary," said the Virginian, conclusively; and hetook to singing, or rather to whining, with his head tilted at an absurdangle upward at the sky:
"'Dar is a big Car'lina nigger, About de size of dis chile or p'raps a little bigger, By de name of Jim Crow. Dat what de white folks call him. If ever I sees him I 'tends for to maul him, Just to let de white folks see Such an animos as he Can't walk around the streets and scandalize me.'"
The lane which was conducting us to the group of ranch buildings nowturned a corner of the meadow, and the Virginian went on with his secondverse:
"'Great big fool, he hasn't any knowledge. Gosh! how could he, when he's never been to scollege? Neither has I. But I'se come mighty nigh; I peaked through de door as I went by.'"
He was beginning a third stanza, but stopped short; a horse had neighedclose behind us.
"Trampas," said he, without turning his head, "we are home."
"It looks that way." Some ten yards were between ourselves and Trampas,where he followed.
"And I'll trouble yu' for my rope yu' took this mawnin' instead o' yourown."
"I don't know as it's your rope I've got." Trampas skilfully spoke thisso that a precisely opposite meaning flowed from his words.
If it was discussion he tried for, he failed. The Virginian's handmoved, and for one thick,
flashing moment my thoughts were evidentlyalso the thoughts of Trampas. But the Virginian only held out to Trampasthe rope which he had detached from his saddle.
"Take your hand off your gun, Trampas. If I had wanted to kill yu'you'd be lying nine days back on the road now. Here's your rope. Did yu'expect I'd not know it? It's the only one in camp the stiffness ain'tall drug out of yet. Or maybe yu' expected me to notice and--not takenotice?"
"I don't spend my time in expectations about you. If--"
The Virginian wheeled his horse across the road. "Yu're talkin' too soonafter reachin' safety, Trampas. I didn't tell yu' to hand me that ropethis mawnin', because I was busy. I ain't foreman now; and I want thatrope."
Trampas produced a smile as skilful as his voice. "Well, I guess yourhaving mine proves this one is yours." He rode up and received the coilwhich the Virginian held out, unloosing the disputed one on his saddle.If he had meant to devise a slippery, evasive insult, no small trick incow-land could be more offensive than this taking another man's rope.And it is the small tricks which lead to the big bullets. Trampas puta smooth coating of plausibility over the whole transaction. "Afterthe rope corral we had to make this morning"--his tone was mockexplanatory--"the ropes was all strewed round camp, and in the hustleI--"
"Pardon me," said a sonorous voice behind us, "do you happen to haveseen Judge Henry?" It was the reverend gentleman in his meadow, cometo the fence. As we turned round to him he spoke on, with much rotundauthority in his eye. "From his answer to my letter, Judge Henryundoubtedly expects me here. I have arrived from Fetterman according tomy plan which I announced to him, to find that he has been absent allday--absent the whole day."
The Virginian sat sidewise to talk, one long, straight leg supportinghim on one stirrup, the other bent at ease, the boot half lifted fromits dangling stirrup. He made himself the perfection of courtesy. "TheJudge is frequently absent all night, seh."
"Scarcely to-night, I think. I thought you might know something abouthim."
"I have been absent myself, seh."
"Ah! On a vacation, perhaps?" The divine had a ruddy facet. His strongglance was straight and frank and fearless; but his smile too muchreminded me of days bygone, when we used to return to school from theChristmas holidays, and the masters would shake our hands and welcomeus with: "Robert, John, Edward, glad to see you all looking so well!Rested, and ready for hard work, I'm sure!"
That smile does not really please even good, tame little boys; and theVirginian was nearing thirty.
"It has not been vacation this trip, seh," said he, settling straight inhis saddle. "There's the Judge driving in now, in time for all questionsyu' have to ask him."
His horse took a step, but was stopped short. There lay the Virginian'srope on the ground. I had been aware of Trampas's quite proper departureduring the talk; and as he was leaving, I seemed also to be aware ofhis placing the coil across the cantle of its owner's saddle. Had heintended it to fall and have to be picked up? It was another evasivelittle business, and quite successful, if designed to nag the owner ofthe rope. A few hundred yards ahead of us Trampas was now shouting loudcow-boy shouts. Were they to announce his return to those at home, ordid they mean derision? The Virginian leaned, keeping his seat, and,swinging down his arm, caught up the rope, and hung it on his saddlesomewhat carefully. But the hue of rage spread over his face.
From his fence the divine now spoke, in approbation, but with anotherstrong, cheerless smile. "You pick up that rope as if you were welltrained to it."
"It's part of our business, seh, and we try to mind it like the rest."But this, stated in a gentle drawl, did not pierce the missionary'sarmor; his superiority was very thick.
We now rode on, and I was impressed by the reverend gentleman's robust,dictatorial back as he proceeded by a short cut through the meadowto the ranch. You could take him for nothing but a vigorous, sincere,dominating man, full of the highest purpose. But whatever his creed, Ialready doubted if he were the right one to sow it and make it grow inthese new, wild fields. He seemed more the sort of gardener to keepold walks and vines pruned in their antique rigidity. I admired him forcoming all this way with his clean, short, gray whiskers and his black,well-brushed suit. And he made me think of a powerful locomotive stuckpuffing on a grade.
Meanwhile, the Virginian rode beside me, so silent in his volcanic wraththat I did not perceive it. The missionary coming on top of Trampashad been more than he could stand. But I did not know, and I spoke withinnocent cheeriness.
"Is the parson going to save us?" I asked; and I fairly jumped athis voice: "Don't talk so much!" he burst out. I had got the wholeaccumulation!
"Who's been talking?" I in equal anger screeched back. "I'm not tryingto save you. I didn't take your rope." And having poured this out, Iwhipped up my pony.
But he spurred his own alongside of me; and glancing at him, I saw thathe was now convulsed with internal mirth. I therefore drew down to awalk, and he straightened into gravity.
"I'm right obliged to yu'," he laid his hand in its buckskin gauntletupon my horse's mane as he spoke, "for bringing me back out o' mynonsense. I'll be as serene as a bird now--whatever they do. A man,"he stated reflectively, "any full-sized man, ought to own a big lot oftemper. And like all his valuable possessions, he'd ought to keep it andnot lose any." This was his full apology. "As for salvation, I have gotthis far: somebody," he swept an arm at the sunset and the mountains,"must have made all that, I know. But I know one more thing I would tellHim to His face: if I can't do nothing long enough and good enough toearn eternal happiness, I can't do nothing long enough and bad enough tobe damned. I reckon He plays a square game with us if He plays at all,and I ain't bothering my haid about other worlds."
As we reached the stables, he had become the serene bird he promised,and was sentimentally continuing:
"'De sun is made of mud from de bottom of de river; De moon is made o' fox-fire, as you might disciver; De stars like de ladies' eyes, All round de world dey flies, To give a little light when de moon don't rise.'"
If words were meant to conceal our thoughts, melody is perhaps a stillthicker veil for them. Whatever temper he had lost, he had certainlyfound again; but this all the more fitted him to deal with Trampas, whenthe dealing should begin. I had half a mind to speak to the Judge, onlyit seemed beyond a mere visitor's business. Our missionary was at thismoment himself speaking to Judge Henry at the door of the home ranch.
"I reckon he's explaining he has been a-waiting." The Virginian wasthrowing his saddle off as I loosened the cinches of mine. "And theJudge don't look like he was hopelessly distressed."
I now surveyed the distant parley, and the Judge, from the wagonful ofguests whom he had evidently been driving upon a day's excursion, wavedme a welcome, which I waved back. "He's got Miss Molly Wood there!" Iexclaimed.
"Yes." The Virginian was brief about this fact. "I'll look afteh yoursaddle. You go and get acquainted with the company."
This favor I accepted; it was the means he chose for saying he hoped,after our recent boiling over, that all was now more than right betweenus. So for the while I left him to his horses, and his corrals, and hisTrampas, and his foreman, and his imminent problem.