FORT MIFFLIN INSTITUTE.
Until the great Pacific Railroad is completed, traveling across the
plains must always be a wearisome labor. The rapid staging between many
of the distant points, has in a measure toned down this laborious
monotony; but, even with this improvement, hundreds who have made the
trip will testify to its wearying sameness.
But, when an emigrant train starts forth it is the very impersonation of
monotony to an impatient spirit. For a time the variety of landscape
occupies the mind and in a great degree relieves the tedium; but,
although some of the finest scenery in the world is in the West, it soon
loses its power to amuse, and all feelings are absorbed in those of
apprehension regarding dangers and anxiety to get ahead—manifested in
some by a figuring and calculation as to the number of suns that must
yet rise and set before they can hope to see their destination; in
others to hurry and make the best time possible, and in still others by
a dogged resolve to plod along without noting the distance traveled, but
with the intention of suddenly awaking to the fact that they have
completed their journey, and their travels are at an end. The only
objection to carrying out this whim, is that he who undertakes it, is
sure to find himself in spite of all he can do to divert his mind,
looking for the _denouement_ long before it is due.
The emigrant train, which from this time forth must occupy a prominent
part in our narrative, was one of those that have plodded patiently all
the way from the Mississippi, until now having passed three-fourths of
the distance, it was on the very border of the wild regions of
California.
On the whole they had experienced good fortune. They had not lost an
animal or a member of the party since starting, excepting their guide
who was slain in the manner already narrated. Not a man, woman or child
had seen an hour’s sickness, and all were now in the best of spirits.
But they had encountered more hardships than they anticipated, and on
this day instead of having such a stretch of wild wilderness before
them, it was their confident expectation to be at Fort Mifflin. They had
terrible times in crossing some of the swift rivers; their horses had
been carried away, and many a precious hour had been spent in recovering
them; ten of their wagons had been hopelessly mired, and a large portion
of their most valuable goods had been whirled away by the rushing
torrents.
Then storms, whose fierceness they had never seen equalled in their own
home, had swept over the prairie, causing them to tremble for their very
lives—but here at last they all were, secure, intact, with a skilful
guide at their head. So had they not every reason to be thankful, to
take courage and to press on?
Ward Lancaster appreciating the magnitude of his charge, rode some
distance at the head of the train, his eye constantly sweeping the
prairie, and his mind taken up with the duty before him. He rode alone,
except when some of his friends chose to keep company with him; but
these generally found him as morose and incommunicative, that they were
glad to fall back again and join the more sociable portion.
The horsemen were scattered all through the train, so that in case of
attack they could rally to the defence of any portion without
unnecessary delay. As naturally was to be expected, intimate friends and
acquaintances found their way into each other’s society.
Warfield and Mr. Bonfield appeared to take a strong liking to each
other, for they rode side by side, and chatted in the most pleasant and
familiar manner. Little was seen of Florence Brandon. Occasionally she
indulged in a few miles walk, but at other times she was in one of the
large lumbering covered wagons with Mrs. Bonfield and a maiden aunt.
Miss Jamison, whose loquacity equalled that of Leonidas Swipes, and
whose bosom seemed incapable of any emotion except that of the
importance of keeping her sharp eye and long nose turned toward her
ward.
Messrs. Doolittle and Birchem rode side by side; and as neither was
heard to utter a syllable to the other, there can be but little doubt
but that they vastly enjoyed themselves.
Swipes was getting along handsomely. He appeared to have recovered his
spirits entirely, and to have forgotten the brief time he enjoyed the
bliss of expected wealth.
“I tell you Mr. Wainwright,” said he, as he rode beside him, shaking his
head and gesticulating his long arms, “_I’ve an idee._”
“Ah!”
“Yes; it come into my head as I was riding along. I tell you it is an
idee _that is an idee_—bound to make my fortune.”
“As sure as the sheep would have done had they remained in your
possession?”
“Y-es-s; but perhaps not quite so fast; but in a much better manner; in
a manner that shall make my name famous along the Pacific coast.”
“It must be quite a grand scheme that has entered your head.”
“It _is_!” was the emphatic response. “One of those idees such as you
don’t get more than once in a life time.”
“Do you wish me to share your knowledge of it?”
“Of course I was preparing your mind for it like. What do you think of
the Fort Mifflin Institute for the education of youths of both sexes?”
“That certainly _sounds_ well.”
“And ain’t it well—isn’t it grand? And what do you think of it?”
“You will have to be a little more explicit in your statements, before I
can give you any decided opinion.”
“Why, as soon as we get to Fort Mifflin I shall erect a building, to be
called the Fort Mifflin Institute for the Education of the Youths of
both sexes. I shall have a lot of circulars printed.”
“Where will you get them printed?”
“At Fort Mifflin, of course. I believe in supporting home industry; I
swun if I ain’t!”
Wainwright laughed.
“There is no printing office within a hundred miles of Fort Mifflin.”
“Whew! is that so? That’ll make some trouble—not much, however,—I can
run up to San Francisco or to Sacramento city; have a few thousand
circulars printed and distribute them on my way coming back. Jingo! it’s
good I’ll have to go so far, don’t you see?”
“Where will you obtain your pupils?”
“From every part of California! Fact is, I should not wonder, after the
Institute becomes known thro’ the Atlantic States, I should draw quite a
number from there. You see, Mr. Wainwright, I’ve _teached_ before, and
I’ve got a reputation up in Connecticut. What do you think of it, Mr.
Wainwright?”
“Perhaps you will succeed—hardly as well though as you seem to
anticipate. I presume you would run the institution yourself.”
“I shall be the head of course—the principal; but I shall organize a
faculty at once. Mr. Doolittle there will be just the man to be
professor of mathematics, and Mr. Birchem professor of the natural
sciences.”
“Can you get them to do enough talking to fill their positions?”
“Plenty, plenty. Fact is, Mr. Wainwright, teachers do too much talking
altogether. They’re just the men for the position, I swan if they aint.”
“And yourself?”
“Professor of Belles Letters, modern languages, &c. I’ve got another
idee!”
And totally unable to control himself Mr. Swipes boiled over, laughed,
gave utterance to several strange squeaking screams, which drew all eyes
toward him, and wound up by declaring,
“It is a grand idea—_grand_! oh! so grand!”
“Pray let’s hear it, and don’t make quite such an excitement!” said the
young hunter, feeling some embarrassment at the attention which was
being drawn in his direction.
“It is grand—a grand idea, worth forty thousand droves of such sheep as
I lost; bound to make Professor Swipes and the Fort Mifflin Institute
for the Education of the Youths of Both Sexes famous from one end of the
country to the other. What do you think of the idea, Mr. Wainwright?”
“I can tell better when I know what it is.”
“At the head of the ladies’ department, I will place, whom do you
’spose?”
“Araminta, your beloved in Connecticut.”
“N—no!” was the somewhat hesitating response. “I propose to place Miss
Florence Brandon! Aint that grand?”
“You mean the young lady who is a member of this party?”
“Certainly; who else could there be?”
“But you must remember, my good friend, that the consent of herself and
father is to be gained in this matter, before you would be warranted in
publishing her as the head of your department for the instruction of
young ladies.”
“Her consent,” repeated Swipes with the greatest amazement. “Why—why
she’ll be crazy at the chance? You won’t be able to hold her, when she
knows what a grand opening it will be for her.”
Fred Wainwright shook his head.
“Begin modestly, Mr. Swipes; begin modestly; establish your school, get
it in thorough operation, and then look about you for a female
assistant. Why not send for your Araminta?”
“Well, you see, she isn’t quite so pretty as this Miss Brandon, and I’ve
thought of having Miss Brandon’s likeness published and distributed with
the circulars. I think it would help. I will mention the matter to her
the first chance.”
“Take my advice and don’t do it; it will do no good.”
“You speak as if you knowed her.”
“I—I know how any modest woman would act under such circumstances.”
The conversation was interrupted at this point by the stoppage of the
emigrant train, near a small stream of water, and it was observed that
Lancaster was talking quite earnestly with the male members who were
gathered around him. Riding forward the young hunter and Yankee heard
him.
“I don’t want to scare you but there’s a good sized war party of Apaches
in the hills yonder and they’n been following us all the afternoon, and
we’ll see more of ’em pretty soon.”