IN WHICH PHIL ATTENDS TO THE AFFAIRS OF THE FARM.
The Sabbath sun rose bright and beautiful, and shed its hallowed light
upon field and forest. Sunday had always been a day of rest at the
clearing since the coming of Mr. Gracewood. Matt Rockwood and I used to
spend the day at the island when the weather would permit us to go
there. The recluse, on these occasions, invariably read several
chapters of the Bible to us, explaining the meaning of the verses as he
proceeded, when necessary. After this he read a sermon, or a portion of
some religious book.
This had been our Sunday routine for the last three years; and Mr.
Gracewood told Matt and me that his religious experience dated no
farther back than this period. He declared that he was really worried
about me, a child of eight, who had received no religious training. As
my education had fallen to him, his conscience troubled him because he
confined his instruction to secular branches. He did not feel competent
to instruct me in sacred things; but he had devoted himself to a study
of the Bible for my sake, that he might be able to teach me. His stock
of religious books was very small, but he had sent to St. Louis for a
new supply.
The study of the Bible, which he pursued with maps, commentary, and
Bible dictionary, soon became very interesting to him. It awakened in
his mind a new spirit, and kindled emotions which before had been
foreign to him. He was an earnest teacher, while he was an inquiring
student. The course of study which he had undertaken for my sake had
been even a greater blessing to himself than to me, though I am sure I
profited by his instructions. After we had studied together for a year,
a prayer was added to our Sunday exercises. Mr. Gracewood told us that
he prayed morning and evening, and begged us to do the same. Sometimes
Kit Cruncher came down and joined our little class.
On these occasions, which were always very pleasant to me, the grand
piano gave forth its deepest and most solemn tones. Mr. Gracewood
played only sacred music on the Sabbath; and he performed the pieces
with so much interest and feeling, that we were always moved by them.
He never sang, declaring that his voice was not adapted to singing.
With this knowledge of Mr. Gracewood's religious views and feelings, I
was not surprised when Ella told me, after breakfast, that her father
would have a service at his house in the forenoon and in the afternoon.
All the soldiers were invited, and all of them came. The familiar hymn,
"The morning light is breaking," was sung first, and was followed by a
prayer, and the reading of a chapter from the New Testament. The
beautiful hymn,--
"When all thy mercies, O my God,
My rising soul surveys,
Transported with the view, I'm lost
In wonder, love, and praise,"--
was then sung. Many of the soldiers joined, and I was almost carried
away by the strange effect, at once so melodious and so inspiring. The
words of the hymn had a peculiar fitness, for the occasion, after we
had been spared from the vengeance of the savages. Mr. Gracewood read
each verse before it was sung, so as to recall the words to the
audience. After the singing, he read a sermon appropriate to the
circumstances of the family. At the end of it he spoke of Matt
Rockwood, and paid a very pleasant tribute to his memory.
In the afternoon we attended another service. That Sunday was a holy
day to me, and the singing had opened a new avenue of inspiration to
me. In the evening Ella told me about her Sunday school in St. Louis,
and I listened to her description with intense interest. I wished that
I could attend one, hear the children sing, and receive the
instructions of kind teachers. I was astonished when she told me that
many young people did not go to the Sunday school, though all were
invited to do so. I could not understand how any were willing to forego
such a blessed privilege.
Early on Monday morning the troops marched for the Indian country at
the north of us. I loaned them the wagon and horses to convey their
baggage, and Kit Cruncher went as guide. I saw the column disappear in
the forest. By this time Ella was able to walk about on the farm, and I
derived great pleasure from the excursions I made with her about the
clearing. I pulled up Little Fish River with her in the barge, and
showed her where the battle with the Indians had occurred. We landed,
examined the breastwork, and visited the mound which marked the
burial-place of the savages who had fallen in the affray.
Later in the week I rowed up to Fish Rapids, and showed her how to
catch a trout. She tried her hand, and soon hooked a two-pounder, which
would have realized my dream about her, if I had not taken the line in
my own hands. We caught half a dozen, and returned to the clearing.
This kind of life was delightful to my fair young companion, and, with
her, it was equally so to me. She seemed to have inherited something of
her father's fondness for the sports of the wilderness and the prairie.
[Illustration: THE GRATEFUL INDIAN. Page 273.]
On Saturday the troops arrived from their march to the Indian region.
Lieutenant Pope had met some of the principal chiefs, had listened to
their grievances,--for they always have some,--and had promised to
redress them. They had smoked the pipe of peace together, and the "big
Indians" had assured him that they would keep their word. After the
severe lesson which had been administered, they were, doubtless, glad
enough to make peace on these easy terms. During the rest of my stay at
the Castle, they gave us no trouble. Though they came down occasionally
to the landing, they were always peaceable and friendly. We took care
of the wounded Indian at the shanty till he was able to return to his
people, and he left us filled with gratitude. Three months after, he
brought us in his canoe, down Crooked River, three antelopes, which he
had shot in the region above us, for much of the best game had
abandoned the vicinity of our settlement.
The soldiers remained a week at the landing, waiting for a steamer to
convey them up to the fort. At the end of that time they departed. I
had several long talks with Lieutenant Jackson, who gave me much good
advice in regard to the future course he thought I ought to pursue; and
when he left I felt that I had parted with a true friend. To the
steamer which conveyed the soldiers up the river, I sold twenty cords
of wood, and added eighty dollars to the gold in the chest.
Mrs. Gracewood insisted that Kit and myself should take our meals at
the house, instead of keeping up a separate mess. Her husband had
purchased a supply of table ware of the steamer which had just left,
and we found ourselves quite civilized. The old hunter was rather
embarrassed and awkward, for he had always been in the habit of eating
his bacon out of the pan in which it had been cooked; but he soon
accustomed himself to the new order of things, though it was impossible
for him to be very graceful at the table, or anywhere else.
As the season advanced we ploughed and planted the field. With Mr.
Gracewood, who insisted upon doing his full share of the labor, and Kit
to help me, the task was not so hard as it had been. We planted a large
piece of ground with corn, potatoes, and vegetables, and by the middle
of June, everything was up, and looked finely. The rich soil and the
southern slope were favorable to our crops, and we had abundant
promises of a rich harvest.
During the preceding year there had been an immense emigration from the
eastern states. Kansas and Nebraska were in rapid progress of
settlement, and during the season which followed the events I have
described, the wave of civilization had almost touched the Castle. We
were not out of the reach nor out of the influence of this tide of
emigration. Twice as many steamboats went up the river, carrying
emigrants and goods on their way to Oregon. In July I had sold all my
wood, and after haying we went to work in the forest to obtain a new
supply. By September the hot sun of our southern slope had rendered it
fit for steamboat use. In the mean time, we managed to obtain a supply
of dry wood sufficient to meet the demand, by obtaining a double-handed
saw, and cutting up the logs and drift-wood brought down by the rivers.
During the season we sold wood to the amount of seven hundred dollars,
which was equally divided between Kit and me, for Mr. Gracewood refused
his share. We all worked hard, but we were very happy. Mrs. Gracewood,
lady as she was in the city, was busy all the time, and even Ella
declared that she found a new delight in working. I ought to say that,
after our corn and potatoes were planted, all the rest of the work in
the field was done with the horses. We planted in hills, and covered
with the plough. The first weeding was done with the cultivator, and in
the light alluvial soil of the clearing it was easy work even for a boy
like me to use it alone. Firefly was well trained, and understood his
business perfectly.
At the second weeding, I ran the cultivator through the long rows and
the cross rows, and then, with the small plough, threw the soil up
against the plants. We did not use a hoe except in the vegetable
garden. We got along so well that I was only sorry we had not planted
twice as many acres.
September and October were busy months to us; but we revelled in the
joys of a plentiful harvest. Three hundred bushels of corn, and four
hundred of potatoes, rewarded our toil, besides more than we could use
of garden vegetables. This was three times as much as we had ever
raised in a season before, and we had not room for it in our barn and
storehouse. We could not use a quarter of the potatoes, even if we all
remained at the farm through winter. We offered them for sale to the
steamers and traders, and sold three hundred bushels to a speculator,
who doubled his money on them at a settlement, where the people had
come too late to make a crop that season.
The cool weather was coming, and, after we had slaughtered our pigs,
the hard work of the season was over. The Gracewoods had decided not to
remain over winter, and I could not think of parting with them. I was
determined to see the world. I heard so much of the country below that
I could not resist the temptation to visit it. I stated my intention to
Kit Cruncher and the Gracewoods. None of them offered any objections,
not even the hunter, who was to be left alone.