"Do you remember Gabriel Betteredge?" asked Adam, a day or so later,
as he watched her set the house in order after their breakfast. "You
know in times of great mental perturbation he always sought comfort
and counsel from the pages of 'Robinson Crusoe.' When in doubt he
waited until to-morrow, as Robinson advised; and no matter what his
perplexities, he always found just what he wanted in that infallible
book. If I remember correctly, but it's years since I read it,
Robinson goes on a voyage of discovery the first thing."
"He built a raft to get away from the wreck first, I think," she said
reflectively. "Or did he build the raft to get to the wreck? I can't
remember. And then he built a house. Somewhere along there he wrote
down his situation in a deadly parallel; I have sometimes wondered if
he was the inventor of that style. But he offset the debit of being
cast away with gratitude for having escaped with his life. We're not,
at least I'm not, sure that belongs on the credit side."
"We don't want to do much exploring yet," he answered. "If we have no
wreck to supply us with all sorts of things, we have a house ready to
hand, not exactly as we would either of us have ordered it, I fancy,
but better than we could build. Do you know what there is in it? We
might begin our investigations here."
"'With lamp in hand we will explore,'" she hummed, "but two rooms and
a cellar do not promise much. There is nothing to see in this room,
except what we do see, and the contents of that chest, which is
locked."
Adam tried the lock, then shook the chest. "There's nothing in it,
anyhow," he said.
"As to the other room," she went on, "there is a bedroom set,--a
better one than I should have expected to find in a place like
this,--and a closet with some clothes in it. The man was about your
size, but the feminine garments--well--they are all about the length
of my bicycle skirt, and on the shelf there is a pile of bedding.
There is no trap door leading into either subterranean or overhead
apartments. In fact, there is nothing else, except a chair. It's very
uninteresting."
Adam had been moving about the room, and stopped before the bookshelf.
He wound the clock mechanically, and read the titles of the books
aloud. A chemistry, a book on electricity, a Bible, a worn copy of
Tennyson, the "Yankee at King Arthur's Court," and a patent medicine
almanac made up the list.
"There is one mysterious thing," he said, "and that is the packing
cases out under the shed. I can't make up my mind what they contain,
and I don't quite feel that we ought to open them; I should like to;
they look as if they might hold--"
"Canned goods?" she said interrogatively.
"I was going to say books, but I suppose we need canned lobster more,"
he assented. "If you are sure they contain oats, peas, beans, or
barley, or anything that the farmer knows, that would justify me in
opening them." He took up a hatchet, and they went out and inspected
the boxes, which were very large and strong.
"Let's not open them yet," she said. "There is one other treasure in
one of the bureau drawers; it is a box with seeds of almost every
kind. They ought to have known most of those things wouldn't grow up
this close to timber-line."
"Probably they were sent by the congressman from this district," Adam
said dryly. "But I'm not so sure they won't grow. Have you noticed how
warm it is, how very unlike what it has always been? Let us go to the
stables, and see what we can find there."
They went up a path, past a garden, fenced with woven wire, through
which the chickens looked longingly. Under some sashes forming a
primitive greenhouse, lettuce and radishes were making good headway.
Nothing else had come up, though there were many beds, with small
slips of board, like miniature tombstones, showing what had been
planted. The stables and cow-barn were all under one roof, and would
accommodate several horses and a few cows. There was hay and fodder in
a lot adjoining, and a few ordinary farm implements, a plow, a harrow,
and a cultivator in a shed addition.
"Do you know what it is for?" she asked mischievously, as he pulled
out the plow.
"Do you think I never remembered the granger vote in my ambitions?" he
answered. "I can plow, and I have planted and snapped corn, and cut
fodder, and dug potatoes--I wonder if there are any here?"
"Yes," she answered; "in the cellar, at least a bushel, mostly gone to
eyes, but I forget how thick to cut them. If we were only 'The Swiss
Family Robinson,'" she went on, "we should find yams and pineapples
and oranges and sugar-cane and bananas coming up between the rocks. As
it is, I am thankful to the congressman who sent the peas and
morning-glories."
"There is only about enough wheat and corn to plant fifteen acres,"
Adam said, making a rough calculation in his mind. "I will plow a
little over that, so as to have a patch for the potatoes, and get it
ready as soon as possible."
"I know how to plant corn and potatoes," she said eagerly. "Just as
soon as you get part of the land ready, I will begin. You didn't know
I was brought up on a ranch, did you? I never was very fond of
recalling it. It is a perpetual round of conditions unlike any theory
ever heard of." She shrugged her shoulders, and stopped at the rude
table under the porch to crumb some slices of what looked like a kind
of cornbread.
"What is it?" he asked curiously.
"That is to enable us to make light of our troubles," she replied
solemnly. "Or, for thy more sweet understanding it is, or at least I
hope it will be, yeast. I found a Twin Brothers yeast cake, and from
it, behold the brethren! I know that raised bread is unhealthy, and
that to get the worth of your money you ought to eat the bran also,
and that the best bread, from the hygienic standpoint, is made from
wheat-paste, and is about the consistency of sole leather; but even if
yeast does shorten our lives, I don't know that I shall give it up on
that account."
The planting of their crops took several weeks, and was very hard
work, for neither of them was an expert farmer. When the corn and
wheat came up there were almost no weeds, and the stand was better
than usual for sod land; but they were kept busy warding off the
horses and cattle that preferred the fresh young corn and wheat to the
indifferent natural grass.
"I thought," she said wearily, after driving away the intruders for
the third time,--"I thought fences were a sign of civilization, but
they seem to be the first necessity of the wilderness."
She was sitting on a rock, fanning her flushed face with her sombrero,
when Adam came to her assistance.
"You should have waited," he said. "I was coming, but I had to hitch
the team." He turned and looked at her, and laughed boyishly. "The run
hasn't hurt you," he said; "you look like a wild rose. I believe I
shall call you so; may I? I can't call you by the old name."
She colored hotly, then turned quite pale, and there was a touch of
reserve in her voice as she answered rather too indifferently, "If you
choose, still I think, O Adam Crusoe, that Friday or Robinson would be
a better name."
"We'll compromise on Robin," he said. "A rose by any other name is
just as sweet."
"I wish we had a fence," she said turning the subject hastily.
"We have," he answered. "If we were to build one ourselves, it would
have to be of rocks, but Nature has provided a magnificent stone
barrier. We have only to drive the animals we are not using through
the gateway, and fasten that little wooden concern after them. There
is good pasture outside, and if we need them we can go after them.
Lassie will look after Daisy and Lily, won't you, little dog? I will
go and open the gate and drive them through. You help Lassie keep
those two back."
She stood undecidedly, and he turned and said gently, "I will come
back without passing through the gateway. I will never pass it without
you. I wouldn't dare. Now see how nicely Lassie will conduct this
round-up."
As he went toward the gateway, her eyes followed him with a look he
would hardly have comprehended, it was so full of relief and
gratitude. He understood and reassured her without noticing her fears
or smiling at her weakness. Every day and many times she thanked God
that, of all the men who might have been left by this modern deluge,
it was Adam who had been with her and was with her in this terrible
experience.