"Frank," said Nucky, when breakfast was over, "do you care if I talk to you some more about--you know--you know what you said last night? I never talked about it to any one but Luigi, and it makes me feel better."
"Sure, go ahead!" said Frank.
"My mother--" began Nucky.
"You mean Luigi's wife," corrected the guide.
"Luigi's wife was crazy about me. She loved me just as much as any mother could. Luigi's always been jealous about it. That's why he treated me so rotten."
"Bad women can be just as fond of kids as good women," was Frank's comment. "What did she look like? Can you remember?"
"I don't know whether I remember it or if it's just what folks told me. She had dark blue eyes and dark auburn hair. Luigi said she was Italian."
"If she was, she was North Italian," mused the guide. "Did any one ever give you any hints about your father?"
A slow, painful red crept over Nucky's pale face. "I never asked but once. Maybe you can guess what Luigi said."
"If Luigi were in this part of the country," growled Allen, "I'd lead a lynching party to call on him." He paused, eying Nucky's boyish face closely, then he asked, "Did you love your mother?"
"I suppose I did. But Luigi kept at me so that now I hate her and all other women. Mrs. Seaton seemed kind of nice, but I suppose she is like the rest of 'em."
"Don't you think it! And did you know that Seaton thinks you were kidnapped?"
Nucky drew a quick breath and the guide went on, "I think so too. You never belonged to an Italian. I can't tell you just why I feel so certain. But I'd take my oath you are of New England stock. John Seaton is a first-class lawyer. As I said to you last night, if you show some decent spirit, he'd try to clear the matter up for you."
Nucky's blue eyes were as eager and as wistful as a little child's. His thin, mobile lips quivered. "I never thought of such a thing, Frank!"
"Well, you'd better think of it! Now then, you clean up these dishes for me while I attend to the stock. I want to be off in a half hour."
During the remainder of that very strenuous day, Nucky did not refer again to the matter so near his heart. He was quiet, but no longer sullen, and he was boyishly interested in the wonders of the Canyon. The sun was setting when they at last reached the rim. For an hour Nucky had not spoken. When Allen had turned in the saddle to look at the boy, Nucky had nodded and smiled, then returned to his absorbed watching of the lights and shadows in the Canyon.
They dismounted at the corral. "Now, old man," said Frank, "I want you to go in and tuck away a big supper, take a hot bath and go to bed. To-morrow we'll ride along the rim just long enough to fight off the worst of the saddle stiffness."
"All right!" Nucky nodded. "I'm half dead, that's a fact. But I've got to tell the clerk and the bell boy a thing or two before I do anything."
"Go to it!" Frank laughed, as he followed the mules through the gate.
Nucky did not open his eyes until nine o'clock the next morning. When he had finished breakfast, he found the guide waiting for him in the lobby.
"Hello, Frank!" he shouted. "Come on! Let's start!"
All that day, prowling through the snow after Allen, Nucky might have been any happy boy of fourteen. It was only when Frank again left him at dusk that his face lengthened.
"Can't I be with you this evening, Frank?" he asked.
Frank shook his head. "I've got to be with my wife and little girl."
"But why can't I--" Nucky hesitated as he caught the look in Frank's face. "You'll never forget what I said about women, I suppose!"
"Why should I forget it?" demanded Allen.
The sullen note returned to Nucky's voice. "I wouldn't harm 'em!"
"No, I'll bet you wouldn't!" returned Allen succinctly.
Nucky turned to stare into the Canyon. It seemed to the guide that it was a full five minutes that the boy gazed into the drifting depths before he turned with a smile that was as ingenuous as it was wistful.
"Frank, I guess I made an awful dirty fool of myself! I--I can't like 'em, but I'll take your word that lots of 'em are good. And nobody will ever hear me sling mud at 'em again, so help me God--and the Canyon!"
Frank silently held out his hand and Nucky grasped it. Then the guide said, "You'd better go to bed again as soon as you've eaten your supper. By to-morrow you'll be feeling like a short trip down Bright Angel. Good-night, old top!"
When Nucky came out of the hotel door the next morning, Frank, with a cavalcade of mules, was waiting for him. But he was not alone. Seated on a small mule was a little girl of five or six.
"Enoch," said Frank, "this is my daughter, Diana. She is going down the trail with us."
Nucky gravely doffed his hat, and the little girl laughed, showing two front teeth missing and a charming dimple.
"You've got red hair!" she cried.
Nucky grunted, and mounted his mule.
"Diana will ride directly behind me," said Frank. "You follow her, Enoch."
"Can that kid go all the way to the river?" demanded Nucky.
"She's been there a good many times," replied Frank, looking proudly at his little daughter.
She was not an especially pretty child, but had Nucky been a judge of feminine charms he would have realized that Diana gave promise of a beautiful womanhood. Her chestnut hair hung in thick curls on her shoulders. Her eyes were large and a clear hazel. Her skin, though tanned, was peculiarly fine in texture. But the greatest promise of her future beauty lay in a sweetness of expression in eye and lip that was extraordinary in so young a child. For the rest, she was thin and straight and wore a boy's corduroy suit.
Diana feared the trail no more than Nucky feared MacDougal Street. She was deeply interested in Nucky, turning and twisting constantly in her saddle to look at him.
"Do you like your mule, Enoch? He's a very nice mule."
"Yes, but don't turn round or you'll fall."
"How can I talk if I don't turn round? Do you like little girls?"
"I don't know any little girls. Turn round, Diana!"
"But you know me!"
"I won't know you long if you don't sit still in that saddle, Miss."
"Do you like me, Enoch?"
Nucky groaned. "Frank, if Diana don't quit twisting, I'll fall myself, even if she don't!"
"Don't bother Enoch, daughter!"
"I'm not bothering Enoch, Daddy. I'm making conversation. I like him, even if he has red hair."
Nucky sighed, and tried to turn the trend of the small girl's ideas.
"I'll bet you don't know what kind of stone that is yonder where the giant dripped blood."
"There isn't any giant's blood!" exclaimed Diana scornfully. "That is just red quartz!"
"Oh, and what's the layer next to it?" demanded Nucky skeptically.
"That's black basalt," answered the little girl. Then, leaning far out of the saddle to point to the depths below, "and that--"
"Frank!" shouted Nucky. "Diana is bound to fall! I just can't stand looking at her."
This time Frank spoke sternly. "Diana, don't turn to look at Enoch again!" and the little girl obeyed.
Had Nucky been other than he was, he might have been amused and not a little charmed by Diana's housewifely ways when they made camp that afternoon. She helped to kindle the fire and to unpack the provisions. She lent a hand at arranging the beds and set the table, all with eager docility and intelligence. But Nucky, after doing the chores Frank set him, wandered off to a seat that commanded a wide view of the trail, where he remained in silent contemplation of the wonders before him until called to supper.
He was silent during the meal, giving no heed to Diana's small attempts at conversation, and wandered early to his blankets. In the morning, however, he was all boy again, even attempting once or twice to tease Diana, in a boy's offhand manner. That small person, however, had become conscious of the fact that Enoch was not interested in her, and she had withdrawn into herself with a pride and self-control that was hi
ghly amusing to her father. Nor did she unbend during the day.
The return trip was made with but one untoward incident. This occurred after they had reached the snow line. Much of the snow had thawed and by late afternoon there was ice on the trail. Frank led the way very gingerly and the mules often stopped of their own accord, while the guide roughened the path for them with the axe. In spite of this care, as they rounded one last upper curve, Diana's mule slipped, and it was only Diana's lightning quickness in dismounting and the mule's skill in throwing himself inward that saved them both.
Diana did not utter a sound, but Nucky gave a hoarse oath and, before Frank could accomplish it, Nucky had dismounted, had rushed up the trail and stood holding Diana in his lank, boyish arms, while the mule regained his foothold.
"Now look here, Frank, Diana rides either in your lap or mine!" said Nucky shortly, his face twitching.
Frank raised his eyebrows at the boy's tone. "Set her down, Enoch! We'll all walk to the top. It's only a short distance, and the ice is getting pretty bad."
Nucky obediently set the little girl on her feet, and Diana tossed her curls and followed her father without a word. And Frank, as he led the procession, wore a puzzled grin on his genial face.
* * * * * *
Exactly ten days after Nucky's first trip down Bright Angel trail, John Seaton descended somewhat wearily from the Pullman that had landed him once more at the Canyon's rim. He had telegraphed the time of his arrival and Nucky ran up to meet him.
"Hello, Mr. Seaton!" he said.
Seaton's jaw dropped. "What on earth--?" Then he grinned.
Nucky was wearing high laced boots, a blue flannel shirt, gauntlet gloves and a huge sombrero.
"Some outfit, Enoch! Been down Bright Angel yet?"
"Three times," replied the boy, with elaborate carelessness. "Say, Mr. Seaton, can't we stay one more day and you take the trip with us?"
"I think I can arrange it." Seaton was trying not to look at the boy too sharply. "I'll be as sore as a dog, for I haven't been in a saddle since I was out here before. But Bright Angel's worth it."
"Sore!" Nucky laughed. "Say, Mr. Seaton, I just don't try to sit down any more!"
They had reached the hotel desk now and as Seaton signed the register the clerk said, with a wink:
"If you'll leave young Huntingdon behind, we'll take him on as a guide, Mr. Seaton."
Nucky tossed his head. "Huh! and you might get a worse guide than me, too. Frank says I got the real makings in me and I'll bet Frank knows more about guiding than any white in these parts. Navaho Mike told me so. And Navaho Mike says he knows I could make money out here even at fourteen."
"How, Enoch?" asked Seaton, as they followed the bell boy upstairs. He was not looking at Nucky, for fear he would show surprise. "How? at cards?"
"Aw, no! Placer mining! It don't cost much to outfit and there's millions going to waste in the Colorado! Millions! Frank and Mike say so. You skip, Billy,"--this to the bell boy,--"I'm Mr. Seaton's bell hop."
The boy pocketed the tip Nucky handed him, and closed the door after himself. Nucky opened Seaton's suitcase.
"Shall I unpack for you?" he asked.
"No, thanks, I shan't need anything but my toilet case, for I'm going to get into an outfit like yours, barring the hat and gloves."
"Ain't it a pippin!" giving the hat an admiring glance. "Frank gave it to me. He has two, and I rented the things for you, Mr. Seaton. Here they are," opening the closet door. "Shall I help you with 'em? Will you take a ride along the rim now? Shall I get the horses? Now? I'll be waiting for you at the main entrance with the best pony in the bunch."
He slammed out of the room. John Seaton scratched his head after he had shaken it several times, and made himself ready for his ride. Frank rapped on the door before he had finished and came in, smiling.
"Well, I understand you're to be taken riding!" he said.
"For the love of heaven, Frank, what have you done to the boy?"
"Me? Nothing! It was the Canyon. Let me tell you about that first trip." And he told rapidly but in detail, the story of Nucky's first two days in the Canyon.
Seaton listened with an absorbed interest. "Has he spoken of his mother to you since?" he asked, when Frank had finished.
"No, and he probably never will again. Do you think you can clear the matter up for him?"
"I'll certainly try! Do you like the boy, Frank?"
"Yes, I do. I think he's got the real makings in him. Better leave him out here with me, Seaton."
Seaton's face fell. "I--I hoped he'd want to stick by me. But the decision is up to the boy. If he wants to stay out here, I'll raise no objections."
"I'm sure it would be better for him," said Frank. "Gambling is a persistent disease. He's got years of struggle ahead of him, no matter where he goes."
"I know that, of course. Well, we'll take the trip down the trail to-morrow before we try to make any decisions. I must go along now. He's waiting for me."
"Better put cotton in one ear," suggested Allen, with a smile.
The ride was a long and pleasant one. John Seaton gave secondary heed to the shifting grandeur of the views, for he was engrossed by his endeavor to replace the sullen, unboyish Nucky he had known with this voluble, high strung and entirely adolescent person who bumped along the trail regardless of weariness or the hour.
The trip down Bright Angel the next day was an unqualified success. They took old Funny Face and camped for the night. After supper, Frank muttered an excuse and wandered off toward the mules, leaving Nucky and Seaton by the fire.
"Frank thinks you ought to stay out here with him, Enoch," said Seaton.
"What did you say to him when he told you that?" asked Nucky eagerly.
"I said I hoped you'd go back to New York with me, but that the decision was up to you."
Nucky said nothing for the moment. Seaton watched the fire glow on the boy's strong face. When Nucky looked up at his friend, his eyes were embarrassed and a little miserable.
"Did Frank tell you about our talk down here?"
Seaton nodded.
"Do you know?" the boy's voice trembled with eagerness. "Was she my mother?"
"Foley thinks not. He says she spoke with an accent he thought was Italian. When I get back to New York I'll do what I can to clear the matter up for you. Queer, isn't it, that human beings crave to know even the worst about their breed."
"I got to know! I got to know! Mr. Seaton, I ran away from Luigi one time. I guess I was about eight. I wanted to live in the country. And I got as far as Central Park before they found me. He got the police on my trail right off. And when he had me back in Minetta Lane, first he licked me and then he told me how bad my mother was, and he said if folks knew it, they'd spit on me and throw me out of school, and that I was lower than any low dog. And he told me if I did exactly what he said he'd never let any one know, but if I didn't he'd go over and tell Miss Brannigan. She was a teacher I was awful fond of, and he'd tell the police, and he'd tell all the kids. And after that he was always telling me awful low things about my mother--"
Seaton interrupted firmly. "Not your mother. Call her Luigi's wife."
Nucky moistened his lips. "Luigi's wife. And it used to drive me crazy. And he told me all women was like that only some less and some worse. Mr. Seaton, is that true?"
"Enoch, it's a contemptible, unspeakable lie! The majority of women are pure and sweet as no man can hope to be. I'd like to kill Luigi, blast his soul!"
"Maybe you don't know!" persisted Nucky.
"I know! And what's more, when we get back to New York, I'll prove it to you. The world is full of clean, honest, kindly people, Enoch. I'll prove it to you, old man, if you'll give me the chance."
"But if she was my mother, how can I help being rotten?"
"Look here, Enoch, a fellow might have the rottenest mother and rottenest father on earth, but the Lord will start the fellow out with a clean slate, just the same. Folks aren't born bad. You c
an't inherit your parents' badness. You could inherit their weak wills, for instance, and if you live in Minetta Lane where there's only badness about you, your weak will wouldn't let you stand out against the badness. But you can't inherit evil. If that were possible, humanity would have degenerated to utter brutality long ago. And, Enoch, you haven't inherited even a weak will. You're as obstinate as old Funny Face!"
"Then you think--" faltered the boy.
"I don't think! I know that you come of fine, upstanding stock! And it's about time you moved out of Minetta Lane and gave your good blood a chance!"
Enoch's lips quivered, and he turned his head toward the fire. Seaton waited, patiently. After a while he said, "Enoch, the most important thing in a man's life is his philosophy. What do you think life is for? By what principles do you think a man ought to be guided? Do you think that the underlying purpose of life is dog eat dog, every man for himself, by whatever method? That's your gambler's philosophy. Or do you think we're put here to make life better than we found it? That was Abraham Lincoln's philosophy. Before you decide for the Grand Canyon or for New York, you ought to discover your philosophy. Do you see what I'm driving at?"
"Yes," said Nucky, "and I don't have to wait to discover it, for I've done that this week. I want to go into politics so I can clean out Minetta Lane."
Seaton looked at the lad keenly. "Good work, Nucky, old man!"
The boy spoke quickly. "Don't call me Nucky! I'm Enoch, from now on!"
"From now on, where?" asked Frank, strolling into the firelight.
"New York!" replied Enoch. "I'd rather stay here, but I got to go back."
"Mr. Seaton, have you been using bribery?" Frank was half laughing, half serious.
"Well, nothing as attractive as guiding on Bright Angel trail!" exclaimed John.
"And that's the only job I was ever offered I really wanted!" cried Enoch ruefully.
The men both laughed, and suddenly the boy joined them, laughing long and a little hysterically. "O gee!" he said at last, "I feel as free and light as air! I got to take a run up and down the sand," and a moment later they heard his whistle above the endless rushing of the Colorado.
"Ideas are important things," said Seaton, thoughtfully. "Such a one as that beast Luigi has planted in Enoch's mind can warp his entire life. He evidently is of a morbidly sensitive temperament, proud to a fault, high strung and introspective. Until some one can prove to him that his mother was not a harlot, he'll never be entirely normal. And it's been my observation that one of the most fundamentally weakening things for a boy's character is his not being able to respect his father or mother. Luigi caught Enoch when his mind was like modeling clay."
The Enchanted Canyon Page 5
