Buckskin Mose

by George W. Perrie

  CHAPTER VI.

  THE MISTY MORNING--ANOTHER INDIAN SCRIMMAGE--MOUNTAIN-FEVER--NEVER SAY DIE--A RASCALLY PROCEEDING--MY SIX-SHOOTER AND A SOMERSAULT--"LO! THE POOR INDIAN!"--HIS LETTER OF INTRODUCTION--THE ULTIMATE WARMTH OF HIS RECEPTION--NEARLY SQUARING ACCOUNTS--A RELAPSE--LEFT BEHIND IN HIGHLY DRAMATIC ATTIRE--FIRST RESULTS WITH NEW ACQUAINTANCES--KINDNESS OF MY CAPTAIN--GREATER KINDNESS OF HIS FRIEND--BECOMING A GOLD-DIGGER.

  It was what sailors term a nasty day when we left this valley. A heavymist, which was almost rain, veiled the surrounding range of country.Little beyond the eighth of a mile, in front of us or on either side,was visible.

  About noon, some of our scouts brought the Captain information thatmatters looked squally, ahead of the train.

  In fact, they had discovered some fresh traces of our red enemies. Ahalt was at once ordered, and I was despatched ahead with forty of themen to discover, if possible, what the present danger might be.

  Nothing for some time presenting itself to verify the report CaptainCrim had received, I took a leaf from his book and divided my boys intotwo parties. This resulted about half a mile farther in a sharp firingfrom the other party, which suddenly ceased, and in a few minutes morewe came across the Indians, who were retreating in good order. Oncemore, I turned what I had learnt since I first joined Crim, to goodaccount. Concealing my men, we astonished them by a round volley, whichsent them off in double-quick time.

  We were once more masters of the situation, and shortly after the trainwas again advancing.

  Keeping a careful look-out, in order to prevent an ambush, this eveningwe struck Gravelly Ford, on the southern bank of the Humboldt.

  After we had crossed this, I was taken sick with that terrible disease,emigrants have named the mountain-fever. For the last two days, I hadbeen feeling somewhat under the weather, with occasional racking painand headache. Never having previously known what actual sickness was,save from the result of accident, I had fancied it was nothing, andwould speedily pass away. But, I was wrong. Unable either to walk orride, my companions were obliged to place me in a wagon, and I became aninvalid under the charge of the doctor who had accompanied us.

  Captain Crim was more than kind to me at this time. In fact, he wouldnot give me up, although the doctor, ignorant of the toughness of myconstitution, actually told him that I was past recovery.

  "We'll never say die, doctor, until we leave him behind us, with awooden board at his head."

  It was impossible for me to avoid hearing this, as the observation wasmade by Crim at a few yards' distance from the head of the wagon inwhich I was stretched. In spite of the pain and thirst from which I wassuffering, as well as my exhausted condition, I could not refrain from ahollow chuckle, knowing how much life there was yet in my body. At thesame time, I could not but feel grateful to the Captain for his words.It was clear he did not intend my bones to be cleaned by a stray wolfor some carrion-devouring bird, whose scent might lead them to mycarcass.

  But I did not know how the villany of one man was watching for thechance of putting me out of the way.

  My protection of poor Pigeon had made me an enemy in Rascall. He hadheard what the doctor said, and went among the men, some of whomdetested me on the score of the favor the Captain had accorded me,grumbling over the necessity of carrying "dead-weight!" In this kindlymanner, he had disposed of me before I was fit for burial.

  Through this fellow's instrumentality, I was, when the Captain happenedto be at the head of the train, taken out of the wagon, and placed uponthe earth, wrapped in a couple of blankets, with a small quantity ofwater beside me.

  At this time, I was too weak even to utter a feeble remonstrance.

  By a fortuitous circumstance, or I should possibly say a providentialone, Brighton Bill came by shortly afterwards. In his astonishment heapproached and spoke to me. I was utterly unable to make any reply. Myfriend--for in spite of his opinion in regard to my manner of settlingaccounts with the Indians, he proved himself a true one--hurried on tothe Captain, whom he reached some quarter of an hour afterwards.

  His rage, as well as that of most of my companions, was, as Billsubsequently told me, frightful. He grew absolutely livid with wrath,ordering an immediate halt, and coming back himself, to superintend myremoval from my present couch to the wagon Rascall had taken me from.

  "We'd better string this Rascall up, at once. He's a dirty varmint, andnot worth shot or powder."

  This was the expression of opinion of the silent individual, who haddeclared his gratification at "sarving under me." It would have been putin execution, there can be small doubt, if Captain Crim had not chancedto hear it. Nor, do I think he would deeply have grieved over this wayof settling matters between me and Rascall. However, the position of thelatter with regard to the cattle which has been earlier stated,prevented Crim's having any ostensible hand in such a condignpunishment. He consequently suppressed this inclination on the part ofmy companions, giving the fellow, who for several hours kept out of hisway, a severe reprimand, and adding a significant hint, that should Ichance to recover, it would be well for him if he gave me a wide berthin future.

  Singularly enough, from the hour in which Rascall had calculated toleave me behind the train--like a worn-out dog kicked from the door of abrutal master's dwelling--I began slowly to recover.

  One might have supposed that the lesson he had received, in the way hisconduct had been met with, both by the boys and our Captain, might haveprevented any further exhibition of his dislike to me. However, this wasnot so. Some two days after, while I was still too weak to leave thewagon, he seized the opportunity of its being comparatively alone, toorder me in an insolent manner to--

  "Get out of it, and walk."

  As I gave him no answer, he jumped into it for the purpose of beatingme, doubtless, as he had formerly treated Pigeon. While his hand waslifted, however, he found himself covered with my six-shooter. Althoughtoo weak to walk, I was now strong enough to have pulled a trigger, andhe saw I was.

  "You had better get out of this, you infernal scoundrel! unless youprefer a bullet in your body."

  Low and weak as my voice was, it was determined enough, to rid me ofRascall's presence. The way in which he vanished was so rapid, that hadI been in a condition for it, one of my old peals of laughter would haveaccompanied the somersault with which his retreat from the wagon waseffected.

  We had reached Smoke Creek before I was enabled to rise and crawl,rather than walk, for the first time through the camp. Here we passedtwo days, only relieved by an attempt, on the part of the Indians, tostampede our stock. It seemed to me as if this attempt had settled thefact of my recovery. At any rate, I found myself again able to use myrifle with something of my old vitality.

  Then we passed to Mud Springs, where we again rested for two days, thefeed for the cattle being excellent.

  From this place, our track was one of the meanest ever fashioned by Godor man. Rough fragments of rock, deep gullies, rapid descents, andalmost perpendicular rises, with occasional quagmires and tangledgrease-wood, barred the road. We had to move over the ground with asgreat hesitation and caution as a fair dame displayed in navigatingBroadway, during the snows of the last winter. It was possibly in thevery worst part of this diabolical track, that we were confronted, as ifby magic, with a red-skin.

  He made signs of peace, and on being permitted to advance, presentedCaptain Crim with a paper from the Indian agent at Pyramid Lake. ThisIndian agent, like all the others of the class employed by ourGovernment, was undoubtedly as little acquainted with the nature of thered man as any Member of Congress could well be. Phil Sheridanunderstands him a good deal better. Well, this document set forth thatthe bearer was a good Lo, and friendly disposed, recommending anyemigrant-train who might encounter him, to give him biscuit, bread,tobacco, or any other such luxuries in their power to bestow. Of course,I do not vouch for the exact words of this precious paper.

  Our Captain complied with the half-request and half-
order, and the Loleft us.

  Scarcely had we advanced a mile farther, than he appeared again at thehead of our train, in the company of thirty or forty other Los, allmounted on the regular Indian pony. Let me here say, that a dirtier andfilthier set of red-skins, I never saw. Had the wind set in ourdirection, I feel the perfume exhaled from their carcasses would havebeen overpowering. Once more displaying the paper he had before shown,they again commenced begging. More provisions were given them by Crim.Actually loaded down with bread, corned meat, flour, sugar, and otherdainties adapted to tickle the aboriginal palate, they at last departed.

  "Did you see, Cap!" I asked, "how, the red beggar to the right of thefellow was eying our horses?"

  "Yes! We shall have a little trouble before long."

  "Good Heavens! Then, why did you give the stinking devils what theyasked for?"

  "You see, Mose, the scoundrels showed me that worthless paper. To besure, I might have done what many would, and peppered them at once. Itwould have saved us a few hours' time and trouble. However, if we haveto go in for them, there will be some satisfaction in knowing it isentirely their own fault."

  "Do you not see they have stopped at the turn of the darned track,Captain?"

  "Yes, Mose, I do."

  "You do not mean to give the thieving vagabonds, anything more?"

  "Certainly I do, Mose." He said this, grimly fingering his rifle in anominous manner. "But--"

  "Well, Cap!"

  "Look here. Just leave the vagabond who showed us the agent's dirtyhieroglyphic, to me."

  In another instant, yelling like demons, the Los dashed upon our line.By accident, it may be presumed, Captain Crim's rifle, with mine and adozen others, were discharged; and in five minutes more not a livingred-skin was to be seen, on either side or in front of us. In a countrytraversed by a road like this, pursuit was of course vain, although itwas attempted.

  It ought, however, to be here stated that, until this occasion, I neverknew what a capital shot our leader was. He was essentially a modestman. Nevertheless, his bullet had crushed through the skull of Lo, "thepoor Indian," immediately above his left eye.

  Towards night we pitched our camp at the lower end of Honey Lake Valley,some three miles from the entrance of Susan River into the lake.Continuing from this spot for two days, towards the small town ofSusanville, and fording the river with our horses, we turned them out tograze for the balance of the day.

  It was while seated under a large cottonwood tree, with four or five ofthe boys, watching our stock, that I nearly squared accounts withRascall. No apparent remains of the mountain-fever forced me to rest inthe wagon at the close of a day's ride, and having crossed the streamwith them, while keeping a watch upon the horses, I was indulging in thefirst hour or two's free conversation I had with any of them, for sometime. Suddenly, Brighton Bill, who had hitherto remained silent, lookedup.

  "'Ow was hit, Mose?"

  "How was what?" I inquiringly demanded from him.

  "Why, 'ow was hit that villin Rascall didn't thrash you, as 'e didPigeon, when 'e got hinto your wagon?"

  As I was relating a somewhat ludicrously-exaggerated account of thesomersault performed by him, when he saw my six-shooter peeping out frombeneath the covering blanket, Rascall, who had crept up behind the treeunder whose branches we were sitting, roared out with savage vehemence:

  "You're a lying son of a ----"

  No sooner had the blackguardly epithet left his lips, than I was on myfeet. My pistol was at once in my hand, and I fired.

  Fortunately for him, as I did so, Bill struck up my hand, and the ballpassed over his head. The cowardly ruffian took to his heels, very muchas if he fancied the devil himself was after him.

  We afterwards found that he skulked round the town. Nor did he join thetrain again until it reached Mountain Meadows. If I can fairly estimatea man's thoughts by the expression of his face, I should candidly saythat Captain Crim's features betrayed as little pleasure at seeing himagain, as I undoubtedly felt. He had necessarily heard of thisoccurrence, although he never in any way alluded to it, when chancing tospeak with me.

  The natural excitement of this affair caused a relapse, and it becameapparent that I must have some positive rest from the wear and tear ofthe journey. It was consequently decided that I should remain at Roop'sRanche, when we reached that place. With great kindness, Brighton Billdecided upon accompanying me there.

  But at this time, the only suit of clothes I possessed were those Istood up in, and these had been, by travel, hardship, and exposure,reduced to so thoroughly a dilapidated condition, that each separategarment barely held together. In addition to this, they were worn outboth at the knees and elbows. While I was disconsolately thinking ofthis, Bill had been occupied in looking through the various wagons.Suddenly I heard my name pealing joyously from his lips.

  "Hi! Mose. Look 'ere!"

  Yes! It was, unequivocally, a carpet-bag which belonged to me. Mytheatrical wardrobe had departed from me. Very probably this preciouswaif from my baggage contained all that I needed. Judge what my disgustmust have been, when, on opening it, I drew forth one pair of corduroyknee-breeches, a scarlet waistcoat, and a long frieze coat. It wasnothing, more nor less, than the complete stage costume of an Irishpeasant, which I now remembered having stowed away in the carpet-bag,for the sake of packing my more reputable daily clothes where they mightlie flat, without the chance of creasing more than necessary.

  I was too weak to swear, and far too depressed in spirit even togrumble. These clothes were, at any rate, sound and whole. This was apoint in their favor. So I decided upon wearing them.

  On finding myself at the ranche, I was a decided object of curiosity andjeering comment to those with whom I was about to make my temporaryhome. Having very little money, and being still too weak to work, theimmediate prospect was by no means a cheering one. While I was gazinground me, Governor Roop came by, and seized with no unnatural wonder atthe unusual clothes of the new inhabitant, paused to question me. Had Ibeen in good health at the time, it may be presumed that my tongue wouldreadily have found words. Now, my teeth seemed to stick together, and mylips could not move. It appeared to me I was like some sailor strandedupon a strange shore, without any help, among treacherous and jeeringlyinhospitable natives.

  "On finding myself at the ranche, I was a decided objectof curiosity and jeering comment to those with whom I was about to makemy temporary home."--_Page 92._]

  As this thought crossed me, a kindly hand was laid upon my shoulder, anda cheery voice cried out:

  "My boy! you surely did not think I had forgotten you?"

  It was Captain Crim who spoke. He had ridden into the town for theexpress purpose of recommending me to Governor Roop, with whom he was anold acquaintance. It would be useless, as well as a gross piece ofvanity, were I here to relate all my late leader said of me. It will beenough to state here, his words were more than enough. The Governor gavehim his ready assurance that I should want for nothing, until my formerhealth and energy were completely restored.

  Then, turning to me, he bade me follow him. On arriving at the onlyhotel in the place, he told the landlord to give me the best room in thehouse, and allow me to remain as long as I desired. The account was tobe charged to himself.

  It would be impossible for me to keep my engagement in San Francisco, onthe tenth of the coming September. Indeed, I had requested Captain Crim,before quitting the train, to explain this to McGuire. As for my dearlittle wife, to whom I had written so hopefully from St. Joseph, whatcould I now say to her? I dared not write. In spite of Crim's kindness,and the even greater kindness of the Governor to a perfect stranger,that afternoon and evening were passed by me in a condition of extremedepression.

  With the next morning, a happier state of mind came. For the first timein many weeks, I had slept in a decent bed. It was certainly not apalatial hotel, yet my breakfast was a better one, as well as moreapproximating to civilization, than any I had recently enjoyed. The sunshone through the
curtainless windows in an inspiring way. The movementof the life around me was different from that which I had recentlyexperienced. In fact, all, for the time, seemed new. The complete changehad already comparatively reinvigorated me.

  From this moment I began rapidly to recover my health, and in a fewweeks was able to look around for such employment as the place couldafford.

  Nothing available could be found.

  During this period, I had frequently met with miners and conversed withthem. The chances and struggles of their life had a considerableattraction for me. At last I decided upon "prospecting" for gold.Success in this appeared to offer me the only possibility I could seeof repaying Governor Roop what I had cost him (his kindness to me itwould be impossible to repay) and leaving the ranche, like an honestman. After spending some two weeks with little or no success, I, atlength, established what I believed to be a good claim in Light's Canyon.

  Honestly, I may say that I went to work with a will. Fortune, however,was long in coming. For many weeks, I made merely enough from my claimto whet my appetite for more.

  Perseverance however generally pays. At last I made more than enough topay my debts. A few days after accomplishing this, I had cancelled mydebt to him who had so kindly befriended me. Then, as the winter hadbegun somewhat earlier than usual, with many thanks to the Governor, Ilocated in Susanville, where I decided to remain until the spring.

  The truth is, I had already tasted the keenest excitement I had yetfound in life, because it is the most fluctuating and uncertain. Thechances in gold-prospecting and gold-digging are so variable, that Idefy any young man who has once tempted them, readily to put them fromhim. The poor devil who has been at it for months, and gained merelyenough to sustain his existence, may, in a single afternoon, find histoil munificently rewarded. Like the gambler, he stakes. It is notmoney, so much as life and work. A single hour may possibly give him athousand-fold the value of that which he, perchance, considers an almostworthless stake.