A month later they were there, and not only there but settled upon
fine farms adjoining each other. To be sure they had but very small
dwellings to live in, but all were too much pleased with the green
meadows, sloping down to the river's edge, and the beautiful forests
that crowned the hills that lay in the background, to fret because the
walls of their house were made of sun-dried mud instead of stone. They
found too many things to be thankful for, to find time to complain of
any, and although all things were very rough, and Mrs. Harwood and
Mrs. Loring wondered a hundred times a day "what they should do," they
finally decided, when everything in the little house was arranged to
their satisfaction, that they should do very well indeed.
"Yes, very well," said Mrs. Loring, for although she called herself a
servant, and was paid as such, she did not feel degraded by it, for she
knew she was earning an honest living, and was respected as a friend
by her employers, while Guy was looked upon almost as a son. He took
the same place with the children as that held in their trip across the
plains. He worked for their father, and for them, and very hard too,
sometimes, but he was still their playfellow, George's guide, Gus'
friend, little Aggie's comforter, and singer of songs, and teller of
stories to all. As I have said, he worked hard, for even with a kind,
indulgent master, like Mr. Harwood, much is thrown upon the hands of
a willing boy, so Guy found there was still fires to light in the
morning, water to fetch, wood to chop and carry, cows to milk, and the
plough to be followed.
Sometimes he grew tired of the dull routine, and would wish himself
at the diggings with the young men from St. Louis, and then with Mr.
Graham, at the mill, but a glance at his mother, working over the hot
stove, or washing at the spring, would render him content, for he would
say, "She is happy with all her toil, while I am near, and shall I
worry over a little extra work, when it keeps me with her?" And then
away to his work he would go with renewed energy, and sometimes Mr.
Harwood would give him a holiday which would quite revive his drooping
spirits, and make him strong for weeks.
Oh, what holidays these were! Off all the children would go to the
woods, that in the afternoon were full of sunshine, so warm, so
beautiful; the grass would look like shaded velvet beneath them, and
the leaves would glance and quiver as if they were fairies frolicking
in their best clothes. And such woods as these were, in which to gather
wild plums and nuts, and then to lie in the shade and tell fairy
stories. "The very trees seem to say them over to us," said Aggie, the
first day they spent in the woods together. "I am sure there must be
something in all these sweet sounds we hear."
"Birds' songs," said George, contemptuously.
"No," said Aggie, "something more. Tell us what it is, Guy, you can
always tell what the birds and animals say, you even told us what the
prairie dogs said, you know."
Guy threw himself down on the green grass beside a little brook, and
listened, with his eyes fixed on the yellow sands of the little stream.
"The birds are telling me that there is gold in that sand," he said
at length, "they tell me there is gold throughout all this wonderful
country, in every rock and chasm, and there is one big fellow that is
telling me how it all came there. Shall I repeat it over to you?"
"Oh, yes, yes!" cried Aggie, in great glee.
"And let us have no more preliminary fibs," said George, "you are the
greatest fellow for them, you know, Guy."
"Oh, p'shaw!" ejaculated Gus, impatient, "Let him go ahead!"
"That's just what the birds say," replied Guy, throwing himself back
on the grass, and smiling gravely. "That big fellow on the bough there
tells me he is delighted; that he has at last found one that can
understand his language, for he has heard so many ridiculous theories
advanced by men with picks on their shoulders and books in their hands,
as to what gold is, and how it came on the ground, that he has nearly
burst his throat in trying to make them understand the truth, and has
then been accused of making a 'senseless chatter.'"
"'And all the time,' says he, 'their chatter was far more senseless
than mine, and so they would think if they had heard all of us laugh
over their conjectures about a matter we knew all about, for birds have
legends as well as men, and there's none better remembered than that of
the "Enchanted Yellow Men."'
"Thousands of years ago they inhabited the finest portions of this
land. They hunted the deer on a hundred hills, and bathed in all the
streams of the mountains. Their tents were in every valley, and the
tracks of their feet on every path. They were the most numerous and
powerful people on all the earth, yet none could tell why they were
feared, for they had never battled with their neighbors, or shown
great courage in the chase. In reality, it was their color alone that
inspired awe. They were of the hue of the sun at midday, and their long
hair streamed upon the wind like the dead leaves of corn in autumn.
From toe to crown they were pure, bright yellow,--as yellow as the
buttercups in yonder field.
"Ever were they looked upon with awe by their tawny brethren, who
thought that the great Spirit had set the seal of his special love
upon them, and had sent them forth as his chosen people. The yellow
men believed the same, for everything they undertook, prospered. None
of the surrounding tribes ever showed opposition to them. They could
follow the game over any ground, and spear the fish in any stream they
chose, so that hunger never entered their wigwams; and in course of
time they became so puffed up with their good fortune that they called
themselves 'gods,' and the neighboring tribes bowed and worshipped them.
"Then the Great Spirit, who, from his home in the great mountains, had
been watching their doings, grew very angry and threatened to destroy
them all. But they were so beautiful to look upon, that he decided to
try them once more and see if any good remained in them. Shortly after
this a mighty tribe on the west of the yellow men, crossed over to the
east, and took from a small, weak tribe that dwelt there all their
lands, and drove them up to the barren mountains, where they could not
find even so much as a herb to eat.
"But they were very near the Great Spirit, and he heard all their woes,
and he sent a messenger down to the yellow men bidding them arise, slay
the invaders and restore the destitute to their homes again. But they
would not, and all those upon the mountains died, and their curses came
down, and rested upon the rich and powerful who had refused to help
them, and upon the day that the last of the wanderers perished a voice
was heard in the tents of the yellow men, and it said, 'As ye refused
to leave your lands to aid your brethren, ye shall rest in the ground
till strangers shall bear thee hence, and as ye have refused to toil,
or bless in your life time, ye shall do both after death. Ye shall buy
food for the poor, but yet shall the curses of the Great Spirit follow
ye.'
"And even as they listened to these terrible words, flames burst out
of the mountains, and rushed over the valleys and plains. As it passed
over them each was burnt to a shapeless mass. In thousands of places
the earth opened and they sank into their graves. And there the yellow
men, in their new forms, waited for thousands of years, and there many
of them are waiting still for the pick of the miner to bring them forth
into their new life, to curse the wicked and improvident, and to bless
the poor and needy."
"There! there! the bird has flown away!" said Aggie.
"But he has answered the question that has been puzzling my head for a
long, long time," said Guy. "And told us, too, that none of us should
be inactive and the greater our power to help others the more we should
exercise it."
"That's so," said George, "and I suppose we are all like the 'yellow
men,' a good deal puffed up with our own conceit. I'll tell you what,
suppose we all enter into a contract to do all the good we can, and let
Guy be the judge of our actions, for after all he is the one that first
put it into my head to do _any_ good, you know."
"Agreed," cried Aggie, while Gus said, "It was a jolly good idea." But
Guy demurred about being judge, thinking with a good deal of shame
that he was sometimes as inactive in a good cause as the "yellow men"
themselves.
So they sat in the woods talking the matter over until the last rays of
the sun fell through the thick leaves and warned them home. Then they
took their baskets and turned their faces homeward. Guy saying, "Well
then, we are agreed all of us to begin the lives now, to which the
'yellow men' were doomed for their idleness and presumption. Henceforth
we are to help the weak, oppose the proud and wicked, and strive to do
good."
"I will for one," said George, earnestly.
"So will I," echoed Gus.
"And so will I, with all my heart!" exclaimed little Aggie, just as
they stepped out of the woods into the open field. "Only look," she
added, glancing back, "a bird has followed us out of the woods. I do
believe it is the one that told us the pretty story,--and, listen, to
what he is singing, 'Good bye!' why, I even can interpret that, 'Good
boy! good bye! Guy Loring! Guy, Good bye!'"
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|Transcriber's note: |
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|Obvious typographic errors have been corrected. |
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