As George said, the great rain storm seemed to have come expressly
to wash all interest out of their journey, for from that day until
their arrival within sight of Carson River, within the Territory of
Nevada, where a part of the company were to part from the main body,
they saw but little to interest them. True they had passed over a
wonderful country, but the alkali plains seemed small in comparison to
the desert, over which they had passed some weeks before, and all the
grandeur of the Sierra Nevada Mountains could not awaken in them one
iota of the enthusiasm with which they had greeted the first glimpse
of the snow-capped summits of the Rocky Mountains. In fact they were
too weary of their long journey to look around them for enjoyment, but
rather looked forward to it, when all deserts of alkali, of sand and
sage-brush being past, they might by the rivers and in the peaceful
vales of California find rest and plenty.
As I have said before, all in the company but Guy and his mother had
something to look forward to. Many of the young men were going to the
placer diggings or the deep mines, and spoke exultantly of the rich
harvest they would surely glean. Mr. Graham had a quartz mill in a
very fine situation, and he was going to take charge of it, and his
sisters were to keep house for him, while Mr. Frazer and Mr. Harwood
had decided to purchase farms and settle upon them.
The last night that all in the train were to encamp together, a large
fire was built and all gathered around it to talk over their plans.
Guy sat by Aggie's side and tried to talk to her, but he could not help
listening to what was said, and that, with the knowledge that they were
so near California--their journey's end,--made him feel so miserable
that he walked away from the fire, and hid himself in a dark place, and
cried as if his heart would break.
What was he to do when compelled to leave these friends? Almost
penniless where was he in that new, unsettled country to find a home
for his mother. For himself he could provide, but what should he do
for his mother? He had heard that work, hard work, was plenty; but his
mother could not do hard work; it had nearly killed her before, and
doubtless there were few children to be taught. What could he do with
her? Where should he leave her, while he went to try his fortune?
It never entered his head to ask any one to give her a home. He felt
under unpayable obligations already to Mr. Harwood for bringing them so
far upon their way, and treating them so kindly, therefore to ask him
to do more, he thought would be the greatest presumption, so instead of
asking help of any man, he asked it of God.
He was still sitting with his head bowed on his knees, and the tears
streaming down his cheeks, most earnestly praying, when, suddenly,
a flash from the light of a lantern passed over him, and a voice
exclaimed: "why, here you are, I have been searching for you for ever
so long."
It was one of the young men from St. Louis, with whom Guy had been on
most excellent terms ever since they left W----.
"Yes, it is I," he returned, rather reluctantly, for he was ashamed
that he should have found him crying. "What is the matter, John?" he
presently added.
"The matter! why, don't you know we are to break up camp to-morrow, and
one party go one way into California, and the other another! Now, which
one are you going with, Guy?"
"I don't know," he said, with difficulty repressing a sob, "one part of
California is the same to me as another. I have no friends there, and,
oh dear, I very much fear I ought not to have come at all."
"Oh, don't say that," exclaimed John, cheerfully, "you just come along
with me and my partners, we are going straight to the placer diggings,
and we'll take care of you until you can do for yourself, which won't
be long, you may be sure; I shouldn't wonder if you're as rich as
Rothschild in a few years."
Guy's eyes sparkled, but in a moment his countenance fell, and he
faltered out,--
"But what is to become of mother,--I couldn't leave her alone in a
strange country, her heart would break."
"Sure enough, I never thought of her, but something might be done, she
wouldn't break her heart, if she didn't starve."
"Ah, but she might do both!" exclaimed Guy. "Indeed, I cannot leave
her. We must live and strive together, John. I thank you for your
offer, but I can't leave my mother."
"You're a nobler fellow than the Spartan that let the wolf gnaw his
vitals rather than cry out," replied the young man, "and though
you won't join us, Guy, I don't doubt but you'll find good fortune
somewhere."
"Thank you," said Guy, and comforted by the young man's kind offer,
though he could not accept it, he walked back to the fire, where he
found only the Grahams and the Harwoods.
"We have been talking about you, Guy," said Mr. Harwood. "Mr. Graham
says he will give you a place in the mill if you will go with him."
"That I will, sir!" cried Guy, joyfully, his heart bounding, then
falling like lead as he added, "but my mother?"
"I think she will consent," said Mr. Graham.
"Oh, sir, it was not of that I was thinking, it was of what would
become of her. Oh, sir, she is poor and friendless, and I couldn't
think of leaving her alone."
"I say then," said George, who had apparently been engaged in building
castles in the air, or anything else rather than listening to the
conversation, "I say, now that Guy isn't going with Mr. Graham, it's
cold enough up there to kill his mother, make an icicle of her before
Christmas, you know you said last night it was."
"Is that true, sir?" asked Guy, turning to Mr. Graham.
"Why, I can't say that your mother would be an icicle before
Christmas," returned Mr. Graham, laughing, "but it certainly is far too
cold and stormy there for a delicate woman."
"Ah, then, sir!" returned Guy, very sadly, "I cannot go with you, I
cannot leave my mother."
"Hurrah!" cried George, turning a double somersault before the fire,
and nearly into it.
"What's the matter?" asked Guy, in astonishment.
"Why, it means," said Mr. Harwood, "that if you will not leave your
mother, you must stay with us, as she has consented to do. Much as I
disliked to part with you, who have been so invaluable to me on the
way, I did not like to ask you to remain with us while others were
ready to offer you, in mines and mills, so much better opportunities of
gaining money than I can upon my little farm. There, for some time at
least, there will be more work than money, I guess. So now, Guy, you
know your mother will, at any rate, have a home; Mr. Graham will give
you much higher wages than I can."
At that point, Aggie began to cry bitterly, saying, "Guy, you mustn't
go away! who should I have to tell me stories?"
"And, besides, my dog Jack can't smoke yet," interrupted Gus, "and you
promised to teach him, and you've got to stay and do it."
"That's so," said George. "I expect I shall burn the house down trying
to smoke, if you don't. You see I haven't forgotten how you threw that
flour and water on me in the burning wagon, yet, and you have to stay
and let me have satisfaction for that!"
"Yes, do stay," said Aggie, coaxingly.
"I intend to," cried Guy, bursting out into a loud laugh to prevent
himself from crying with joy at his good fortune. "Hasn't it nearly
broken my heart to think of leaving you, Aggie, and Mr. and Mrs.
Harwood, and all the rest? Indeed, I would rather be with you all, if
you were as poor as--as--"
"Job's turkey," suggested George.
"Well, yes, or as I am myself, than be a prince without you."
After which burst of eloquence Guy sat down, bringing a scream of
dismay from Aggie, upon whom he had inadvertently seated himself.
"Now that is all settled," said Mr. Harwood, dismissing the matter in
his usual cool way, though one could see he was much gratified, "we
will have prayers."
He arose and rung the large bell and all the company gathered around
him, as they had often done upon the plains and the mountains, and
listened to the word of God. Then he spoke to them of what had passed,
and gave his best wishes to each. All were much affected at his kindly
words, and by the short prayer that followed. There were few dry eyes
there as those that were to leave on the morrow bade farewell, and it
was with deep grief Guy parted with his many friends.
At daybreak next morning the final separation took place, a long train
of waggons diverged to another path, leaving the families of Mr.
Frazer and Mr. Harwood to take their way alone into California.