Judith of the Plains

by Marie Manning

  XIII

  Mary's First Day In Camp

  The first day spent as governess to the family of Yellett reminded MaryCarmichael of those days mentioned in the opening chapter of Genesis, dayswherein whole geological ages developed and decayed. Any era, geologicalor otherwise, she felt might have had its rise, decline, and fall duringthat first day spent in a sheep camp.

  She awoke to the sound of faint tinklings, and accepted the towering peaksof the Wind River mountains, with their snowy mantles all shadowy in thewhitening dawn, and the warmer grays of huddling foot-hills, as onereceives, without question, the fantastic visions of sleep. The fainttinkling grew nearer, mingled with a light pitter patter and a far offbaa-ing and bleating; then, as shadowy as the sheep in dreams, a greatflock came winding round the hill; in and out through the sage-brush theywent and came, elusive as the early morning shadows they moved among. Theair was crystalline and sparkling; creation's first morning could not havepromised more. It would have been inconsistent in such a place to waken ina house; the desert, that seemed a lifeless sea, the sheep moving likegray shadows, were all parts of a big, new world that had no need ofhouses built by hands.

  Ben, oldest of the Brobdingnag tribe, who had greeted Mary's request to bedirected to "the house" as a bit of dry Eastern humor, led the herd topasture. Ben's right-hand man was "Stump," the collie, so named because hehad no tail worth mentioning, but otherwise in full possession of hisfaculties. Stump was newly broken to his official duties and authority satheavily on him. Keenly alert, he flew hither and thither, first after onestraying member of the herd, then another, barking an early morningroll-call as he went. Two other male Brobdingnags came from somesequestered spot in the landscape and joined Ben--Mary recognized two morepupils.

  Mrs. Yellett then unrolled the pillow constructed the night previous ofsuch garments as she had been willing to dispense with, and put them on.The vastness of her surroundings did not prevent her from locating theminutest article, and Mary gave her the respectful admiration of a womanwho has spent a great deal of time searching for things in an infinitelysmaller space. The matriarch then called the remaining members of herhousehold officially--the Misses Yellett accomplished their early morningtoilets with the simplicity of young robins. Only the new governess hungback, but finally mustered up enough courage to say that if such a thingwas possible she would like to have a bath.

  Mrs. Yellett greeted her request with the amused tolerance of one who hasnever given such a trifle a thought.

  "The habit of bathing," she commented, "is shore like religion: them thatobserves it wonders how them that neglects it gets along." She beckonedMary to follow, and led the way to a bunch of willows that grew about astone's-throw from the camp. "Here be a whole creek full of water, if youdon't lack the fortitood. It's cold enough to sell for ten cents a glassdown to Texas."

  Somewhat dismayed, Mary stepped gingerly into the creek. Its intense coldnumbed her at first, but a second later awoke all her young lustiness, andshe returned to camp in a fine glow of courage to encounter whatever elsethere might be of novelty. Mrs. Yellett was preparing breakfast at asheet-iron stove, assisted by Cacta and Clematis.

  "Your hankering after a bath like this"--she added another handful of flourto the biscuit dough--"do shore remind me of an Englishman who come tovisit near Laramie in the days of plenty, when steers had jumped toforty-five. This yere Britisher was exhibit stock, shore enough, beingwhat's called a peer of the realm, which means, in his own country, thathe is just nacherally entitled from the start to h'ist his nose high.

  "The outfit he was goin' to visit wasn't in the habit of havin' peers dropin on them casual, but they aimed to make him feel that he wasn't thefirst of the herd that headed that way by a quart"--she cut four biscuitswith a tin cup, and resumed--"to which end they rounded up every specimenof canned food that's ever come across the Rockies.

  "'Let him ask for "salmon esplinade," let him ask for "chicken marine-go,"let him ask for plum-pudding, let him ask for hair-oil or throatlozengers, this yere outfit calls his bluff,' says Billy Ames, who ownsthe 'twin star' outfit and is anticipatin' this peer as a guest.

  "Well, just as everything is ready, the can-opener, sharp as a razor,waitin' to open up such effete luxuries as the peer may demand, Bill Amesgets called to California by the sickness of his wife. He feels mean aboutabandonin' the peer, but he don't seem to have no choice, his wife bein'one of them women who shares her bad health pretty impartially round thefamily. So Billy he departs. But before he goes he expounds to Joplin Joe,his foreman, the nature of a peer and how his wants is apt to be a heapfashionable, and that when he asks for anything to grasp the can-openerand run to the store-house--Cacta, you put on the coffee!

  "That peer arrives in the afternoon, and he never makes a request any morethan a corpse. Beyond a marked disposition to herd by himself and tomaintain the greatest possible distance between his own person and asix-shooter, he don't vary none from the bulk of tenderfeet. At night,when all parties retires, and Joplin Joe ponders on them untouched, effeteluxuries in the store-room, and how the can-opener 'ain't once been dimmedin the cause of hospitality, it frets him considerable, and he feels heain't doin' his duty to the absent Billy Ames.

  "At sunrise he can stand it no longer. He thunders on the Britisher's doorwith the butt of his six-shooter, calling out:

  "'Peer, peer, be you awake?'

  "The peer allowed he was, though his teeth was rattling like brokencrockery.

  "'Peer, would you relish some "salmon esplinade"?'

  "The peer allowed he wouldn't.

  "'Peer, would you relish some "chicken marine-go"?'

  "The peer allowed he shore wouldn't, and the crockery rattled harder thanever. Joplin Joe then tried him on the hair-oil and the throat lozengers,the peer declining each with thanks.

  "'Peer,' said Joplin Joe, fair busting with hospitality, 'is thereanything in this Gawd's world that you do want?'

  "The crockery rattled an interlood, then Joplin Joe made out:

  "'Thanks, very much. I should like a ba-ath'--Clematis, you see if thembiscuits is brownin'.

  "Joe he ran to the store-room, and his eye encountered a barrel ofcorned-beef. He calls to a couple of cow-punchers, and the first thing youknow that late corned steer is piled onto the prairie and themcow-punchers is hustling the empty barrel in to the peer. Next theydetaches the steps from the kitchen door, ropes 'em to the barrel andintroduces the peer to his bath. He's good people all right, and when hesees they calls his bluff he steps in all right and lets 'em soak him acouple of buckets. This here move restores all parties to a mutualunderstanding, and the peer he bathes in the corned-beef barrel regulardurin' his stay--you see the habit had cinched him."

  Ned had shot an antelope a day or two previous, and antelope steak,broiled over a glowing bed of wood coals, with black coffee, stewed driedapples, and soda biscuit made up what Mary found to be an unexpectedlypalatable breakfast. As camp did not include a cow, no milk or butter wasserved with meals. Nevertheless, the hungry tenderfoot was quite content,and missed none of the appurtenances she had been brought up to believeessential to a civilized meal, not even the little silver jug that AuntMartha always insisted came over with William the Conqueror--Aunt Marthascorned the _May-flower_ contingent as parvenus.

  The family sat on the grass, tailor fashion, and every one helped himselfto what appetite prompted, in a fashion that suggested brilliant gymnasticpowers. To pass a dish to any one, the governess discovered, was construedas an evidence of mental weakness and eccentricity. The family satisfiedits appetite without assistance or amenities, but with the skill of atroupe of jugglers.

  Breakfast was half over when Mrs. Yellett laid down her knife, which shehad handled throughout the meal with masterly efficiency. Mary watched herin hopeless embarrassment, and wondered if her own timid use of a tin forkcould be construed as an unfriendly comment upon the Yelletts' more simpleand direct code of table etiquette.

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sp; "Land's sakes! I just felt, all the time we've been eating, we wasforgettin' something. You children ought to remember, I got so much on mymind."

  All eyes turned anxiously to the cooking-stove, while an expression offrank regret began to settle over the different faces. The backbone oftheir appetites had been broken, and there was something else, perhapssomething even more appetizing, to come.

  Interpreting the trend of their glance and expression, up flared Mrs.Yellett, with as great a show of indignation as if some one had set amatch to her petticoats.

  "I declare, I never see such children; no more nacheral feelin's than aherd of coyotes; never thinks of a plumb thing but grub. No, make nomistake about the character of the objec' we've forgot. 'Tain't sweetpertaters, 'tain't molasses, 'tain't corn-bread--it's paw! It's your poreold paw--him settin' in the tent, forsook and neglected by his ownchildren."

  All started up to remedy their filial neglect without loss of time, butMrs. Yellett waved them back to their places.

  "Don't the whole posse of you go after him, like he'd done something andwas to be apprehended. Ben, you go after your father."

  Ben strode over to the little white tent that Mary had noticed glimmeringin the moonlight the preceding evening, and presently emerged, supportingon his arm a partially paralyzed old man, who might have been Rip VanWinkle in the worst of tempers. His white hair and beard encircled ashrivelled, hawklike face, the mouth was sucked back in a toothless eddythat brought tip of nose and tip of chin into whispering distance, theeyes glittered from behind the overhanging, ragged brows like those of ahungry animal searching through the brush for its prey.

  "If you've done eatin'," whispered Mrs. Yellett to Miss Carmichael, "you'dbetter run on. Paw's langwidge is simply awful when we forget to bring himto meals." Mary ran on.

  When, after the lapse of some thirty minutes or so, the stentorian voiceof Mrs. Yellett recalled Mary to camp, she found that the tin breakfastservice had been washed and returned to the mess-box, the beds had beenneatly folded and piled in one of the wagons--in fact, the extremely simpletent-hold, to coin a word, was in absolute order. It was just 6 A.M., andMrs. Yellett thought it high time to begin school. Mary tried to convey toher that the hour was somewhat unusual, but she seemed to think that forpupils who were beginning their tasks comparatively late in life it wouldbe impossible to start sufficiently early in the morning. So at this youngand tender hour, with many misgivings, Mary set about preparing her _alfresco_ class-room.

  She chose a nice, flat little piece of the United States, situated in theshade of the clump of willows that bordered a trickling creek not far fromher sylvan bath-room of the early morning. How she was to sit on theground all day and yet preserve a properly pedagogical demeanor was thefirst question to be settled. That there was nothing even remotelyresembling a chair in camp she felt reasonably assured, as "paw" wassitting on an inverted soap-box under a pine-tree, and "paw," by reason ofage and infirmity, appropriated all luxuries. Mrs. Yellett, with her usualacumen, grasped the situation.

  "I'm figgerin'," she commented, "that there must be easier ways ofgovernin' than sittin' up like a prairie-dog while you're at it."

  Mrs. Yellett took a hurried survey of the camp, lessening the distancebetween herself and one of the light wagons with a gait in which grace wasentirely subservient to speed; then, with one capacious wrench of thearms, she loosened the spring seat from the wagon and bore it to thegoverness with an artless air of triumph. It was difficult, under thesecircumstances, to explain to Mrs. Yellett that without that symbol ofscholastic authority, a desk, the wagon seat was useless. Nevertheless,Mary set forth, with all her eloquence, the mission of a desk. Mrs.Yellett was genuinely depressed. Had she imported the magician without hiswand--Aladdin without his lamp? She proposed a bewildering choice--aninverted wash-tub, two buckets sustaining the relation of caryatides to aboard, the sheet-iron cooking-stove. In an excess of solicitude she evensuggested robbing "paw" of his soap-box.

  Mary chose the wash-tub on condition that Mrs. Yellett consented tosacrifice the handles in the cause of lower education. She felt that aninverted tub that was likely to see-saw during class hours would tendrather to develop a sense of humor in her pupils than to contribute to herpedagogical dignity.

  The camp, as may already have been inferred, enjoyed a matriarchal form ofgovernment. Its feminine dictator was no exception to the race ofautocrats in that she was not an absolute stranger to the rosy byways ofself-indulgence. There was a strenuous quality in her pleasuring perhapsnot inconsistent in one whose daily tasks included sheep-herding,ditch-digging, varied by irrigating and shearing in their proper seasons.Under the circumstances, it was not surprising that her wash-tub boreabout the same relationship to her real duties as does the crochet needleor embroidery hoop to the lives of less arduously engaged women. It was atonce her fad and her relaxation, the dainty feminine accomplishment withwhich she whiled away the hours after a busy day spent with pick andshovel. Of all this Mary was ignorant when she proposed that Mrs. Yellettsaw off the tub-handles in the cause of culture. However, Mrs. Yellettprocured a saw, yet the hand that held it lingered in its descent on thehandles. She contemplated the tub as affectionately as Hamlet regardingthe skull of "Alas, poor Yorick!"

  "This," she observed, "is the only thing about camp that reminds me I'm awoman. I'd plumb forget it many a time if it warn't for this little tub.The identity of a woman is mighty apt to get mislaid when dooty compelsher to assoome the pants cast aside by the nacheral head of the house insickness or death. It's ben six years now since paw's done a thing but set'round and wait for meals." Mrs. Yellett sighed laboriously. "Not that I'mholdin' it agin him none. When a man sees eighty, it's time he beddedhimself down comfortable and waited for the nacheral course of events toweed him out. But when the boys get old enough to tend to herdin',irrigatin', and the work that God A'mighty provided that man might get thechance to sweat hisself for bread, accordin' to the Scriptures, I aim toindulge myself by doin' a wash of clothes every day, even if I have totake clean clothes and do 'em over again."

  The poor "gov'ment's" tender heart could not resist this presentation ofthe case.

  "We won't touch the handles, Mrs. Yellett," she laughed. "I'm glad youtold me you had a personal sentiment for the tub. There are some things Ishould feel the same way about--my hoe and rake, for instance, that I carefor my garden with, at home. And that suggests to me, why not dig twolittle trenches for the handles and plant the tub? Then I shall have aneven firmer foundation on which to arrange the--the--the educationalmiscellany."

  The suggestion of this harmless expedient was gratefully received, and the"desk" duly implanted, whereupon Mary pathetically sought to embellish her"class-room" from such scanty materials as happened to be at hand. Ahemstitched bureau scarf that she had tucked in her trunk, inunquestioning faith in the bureau that was to be part of the ranchequipment, took the "raw edge," as it were, off the desk. A bunch ofprairie flowers, flaming cactus blossoms in scarlet and yellow, ox-eyeddaisies, white clematis from the creek, seemed none the less decorativefor the tin cup that held them. Mary grimly told herself that her schoolwas to have refining influences, even if it had no furniture.

  The books, pencils, and paper arranged in decorous little piles, MissCarmichael announced to her patroness that school was ready to open. Mrs.Yellett, who had never heard that "a soft voice is an excellent thing inwoman," and whose chest-notes were not unlike those of a Durham insustained volume of sound, made the valley of the Wind River echo with thesummons of the pupils to school, upon which the teacher herself wasovercome by the absurdity of the situation and had barely time to escapeback of the willows, where she laughed till she cried.

  As the pupils trooped obediently to school, Mary noted that they carriedno flowers to their dear teacher, but that Ben, the oldest pupil,twenty-one years old, six feet four inches in height and deeply saturninein manner, carried a six-shooter in his cartridge-belt. The teacher feltthat she was the last to deny a pupil any rea
sonable palliative of thetedium of class-hours--the nearness of her own school-days inclined her toleniency in this particular--but she was hardly prepared to condone asix-shooter, and confided her fears to Mrs. Yellett, who received themwith the indulgent tolerance a strong-minded woman might extend to thefeminine flutter aroused by a mouse. She explained that Ben did not shootfor "glory," but to defend the herd from the casual calls ofmountain-lions, bears, and coyotes. Jack and Ned, who were very nearly astall as their older brother, carried similar weapons. Mary prayed that afraternal spirit might dwell among her pupils.

  The Misses Yellett were hardly less terrifying than their brothers. Theyhad their father's fierce, hawklike profile, softened by youth, and theappalling height and robustness due to the freedom and fresh air of anomadic existence. Their costumes might, Mary thought, have been fashionedout of gunny-sacks by the simple expedient of cutting holes for the headand arms. The description of the dress worn by the charcoal-burner'sdaughter in any mediaeval novel of modern construction would approximatefairly well the school toilets of these young lady pupils. The boys woreoveralls and flannel shirts, which, in contrast to the sketchy effects oftheir sisters' costumes, seemed almost modish. Mrs. Yellett then left the"class-room," saying she must take Ben's place with the sheep.

  The Brobdingnags, huge of stature, sinister of aspect, deeply distrustfulof the rites in which they were about to participate, closed in abouttheir teacher. From the pigeon-holes of memory Mary drew forth theacademic smile with which a certain teacher of hers had invariably openedschool. The pupils greeted the academic smile with obvious suspicion. Noone smiled in camp. When anything according with their conception of thehumorous happened, they laughed uproariously. Thus, early in the morning,on his way to breakfast, Ned had stumbled over an ax and severely cut hishead. Every one but Ned saw the point of this joke immediately, and heartyguffaws testified to their appreciation.

  Miss Carmichael took her place behind the upturned tub.

  "Will you please be seated?" she said.

  The class complied with the instantaneous precision of automata newlygreased and in excellent working order. Their abrupt obedience wasdisconcerting. Some one must have been drilling them, thought theiranxious teacher, in the art of simultaneous squatting. The temper of theclass respecting scholastic deportment leaned towards rigidity borderingon self-torture.

  Mary made out a roll-call, and by unanimous consent it was agreed toarrange the class as it then stood, or rather squatted, with the HerculeanBen at the top, and gradually diminishing in size till it reached thevanishing point with Cacta, who was ten and the least terrifying of all.

  "And now," ventured the teacher, with the courage of a white rabbit, "whathave you been in the habit of studying?"

  Absolute silence on the part of the class, which confronted its questionerstraight as a row of bottles, presenting faces imperturbable as so manysphinxes.

  Other questions met with an equally disheartening response. MissCarmichael sat up straight, pushed back the persistent curls from herface, and bent every energy towards the achievement of a "firm" demeanor.

  "Clematis," said she, wisely selecting perhaps the least formidable of theclass, "I want you to give me some idea of the kind of work you have beendoing, so that we may all be able to understand each other. Now, in yourmathematics, for instance, which of you have finished with yourarithmetic, and which--"

  "What do you mean?" begged Clematis, somewhat tearful.

  "Where are you in your arithmetic?

  "Nowhere, ma'am."

  "Do you mean you have never learned any?" Mary Carmichael shuddered as sheicily put the question.

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Is that the case with all of you?"

  Emphatic nods left no room for doubt.

  "Then we'll leave that for the present. If you will tell me, Clematis,what kind of work you have been doing in your history and English, we willget to work on those to-day. What books have you been using?"

  Not unnaturally, Clematis, who was emotional and easily impressed, beganto feel as though she were a criminal. She sobbed in a helpless, feminineway. Ben spoke up, fearsomely, from the top of the class.

  "We 'ain't got no books," said he, in grim rebuke, as though to put an endto a profitless discussion.

  "Do you wish me to understand," quavered Mary, "that you have had nostudies--that you--can't read?--that you--don't know--anything?"

  "That's it," said Ben, with the nearest approach to cheerfulness he hadyet manifested.

  Meanwhile there lay on the teacher's "desk" copies of Clodd's _Childhoodof the World_, two of that excellent series of _History Primers_, and _TheYoung Geologist_, all carefully selected, in the fulness of Mary'signorance, for the little pupils of her imagination. She had brought noprimer, as Mrs. Yellett's letter had distinctly said that the youngestchild was ten and that all were comparatively advanced in their studies.More than ever Mary longed to penetrate the mystery of that Irish linendecoy, for without doubt it was to be her melancholy fate to conduct thisgiant band through the alphabet!

  Accordingly she wrote out the letters of the alphabet with largesimplicity and a sublime renunciation of flourish. The class received ittepidly. Mary grew eloquent over its unswerving verities. The classremained lukewarm. The difference between a and b was a matter ofindifference to the house of Yellett. They regarded their teacher'sstrenuous efforts to furnish a key to the acquirement of the alphabet withthe amused superiority of "grown-ups" watching infant antics with penciland paper. Meanwhile her fear of the class increased in proportion as herability to hold its attention diminished. The backbone of the school wasplainly wilting. The little scholars, armed to the teeth, no longer sat upstraight as tenpins. After twenty-five minutes of educational experience,satiety bowled them over.

  A single glance had convinced Ben that the alphabet was beneath contempt.He yawned automatically at regular intervals--long, dismal yawns thatthreatened to terminate in a howl, the unchecked, primitive type of yawnthat one hears in the cages of the zoological gardens on a dull day. MissCarmichael raised interrogatory eyebrows, but she might as well havelooked reproof at a Bengal tiger.

  The class was rapidly promoted to c-a-t, cat; but these dizzy intellectualheights left them cold and dull. Ben began to clean his revolver, and onbeing asked why he did not pay attention to his lessons, answered,briefly:

  "It's all d----d foolishness."

  Cacta and Clem were pulling each other's hair. Mary affected not to seethis sisterly exchange of torture. Ned whittled a stick; and, in chorus,when their teacher told them that d-o-g spelled dog, they shoutedderision, and affirmed that they had no difficulty in compelling theobedience of Stump even without this particular bit of erudition. ThoughMary had always abhorred corporal punishment, she began to see argumentsin its favor.

  With the handleless tub as an elbow-rest the teacher took counsel withherself. Strategy must be employed with the intellectual conquest of theBrobdingnags. Summoning all the pedagogical dignity of which she wascapable, she asked:

  "Boys, don't you want to know how to read?"

  "Noap," responded the head of the class.

  "Don't you want to know how to write?"

  "Noap."

  "But, my dear boy, what would you do if you left here and went out intothe world, where every one knows these things and your ignorance would beevident at every turn. What would you do?"

  "Slug the whole blamed outfit!"

  Mary looked at her watch. School had lasted just forty-five minutes. Hadtime become petrified?