THE PASSING YEARS
THE excitement in New Constantinople was caused by the arrival of Vose
Adams, the mail carrier and messenger, with his budget of letters and
freight for the Heavenly Bower.
These periodical journeys never occupied less than two weeks, and in
the present instance he had been absent several days beyond that
period, so that some anxiety was felt for him, since every trip was
attended with more or less danger. He was exposed to the peril of
storms, snowslides, wild animals and hostile Indians. The elemental
disturbances in the Sierras are sometimes of a terrific nature. Twice
he had lost a mule, and once both animals went spinning down a
precipice for a thousand feet, in an avalanche of snow and were never
found again. Vose's only consolation in the last instance was that it
occurred when on his way to Sacramento, while in the former case he
saved one of the precious kegs, which he insisted was the means of
saving him in turn from perishing in the Arctic temperature.
The shadowy trail wound in and out among the gorges and canyons,
beside towering mountain walls, at a dizzying elevation, over ridges
above the snow line, across table lands, through forests of pine and
cedar and tumultuous mountain torrents, where he took his life in his
hands every time he made the venture.
The unerring marksmanship of Vose and his alertness reduced the danger
from the fierce grizzly bears and ravening mountain wolves to the
minimum, but the red men were an ever present peril. He had served as
the target of many a whizzing arrow and stealthy rifle shot, but thus
far had emerged with only a few insignificant hurts. He was ready at
the stated times to set out on his journey, and appeared indeed to
welcome the change in the existence which otherwise became tiresome
and monotonous. It mattered not that his friends often intimated that
he was starting on his last venture of that nature, for he believed
that his "time" had been set and it mattered naught what he did, since
it could not be changed.
Vose explained that the cause of his last delay was the old
one--Indians. They had pursued and pestered him so persistently that
he was compelled to hunt out a new trail, longer and more difficult
that the old one, and which came within a hair of landing him into the
very camp of his enemies. However, everything had turned out well, and
he brought with him the most prized cargo that ever arrived in New
Constantinople.
First of all, were the two casks of freight, which had suffered so
slight leakage, that Landlord Ortigies complimented the vigilance of
the messenger. Then he brought with him fully a hundred letters and
newspapers. Each citizen received one, and many had several. In every
instance, the grateful recipient paid Vose a dollar for his mail, so
that the reward was generous, including as it did a liberal honorarium
from the proprietor of the Heavenly Bower.
In addition to the mail and freight, there were a number of articles
to which no special reference is needed. In one package, however,
every one was deeply interested, and Nellie Dawson more than the
others. Unknown to the father, a goodly sum had been entrusted to
Adams, with which to purchase such articles as it was believed the
child needed. These included material for numerous new dresses of
gorgeous pattern, stockings, shoes, slippers, ribbons, hats and even
gloves, trinkets and playthings beyond enumeration.
When these were spread out before the little one, she clapped her
hands and danced with delight. She had never dreamed of or seen such
bewildering wealth, and the miners were repaid a hundred fold, while
the grateful parent thanked them for their thoughtful kindness.
With no other person of her sex in the settlement, it would naturally
be thought that she lacked in many of the little attentions which only
a mother or adult female friend can give, but such was not the case.
There was not a man among them all, who had not been taught in the
hard school of necessity to become his own tailor and conservator of
clothing. Many had natural taste, and had not wholly forgotten the
education and training received in the homes of civilization, before
they became adventurers and wanderers. A consensus of views, all moved
by the same gentle impulse, resulted in Nellie Dawson being clothed in
a garb which would hardly have caused criticism in the metropolis of
our country. Not only that, but she was abundantly provided against
all kinds of weather, and with Vose Adams making his regular trips
westward, there was no possibility of her ever knowing the want of
thoughtful care.
The education of the little one was never neglected. Enough has been
told to show her brightness, and even had not her teacher been
inspired by his affection for the little one, the task of imparting
knowledge to such an apt pupil must have been a constant pleasure.
This work, as we have shown, fell by common consent to the parson,
Felix Brush, though his choice at first was not unanimous. Wade
Ruggles was so insistent that he should have a part in the work, that
he was allowed a trial, but it cannot be said the result of several
days' effort was satisfactory. A stealthy inspection of the blackboard
by Budge Isham and the parson disclosed that Ruggles had constructed
the alphabet on a system of his own. Some of the letters were
reversed, several inverted, while the forms of others prevented any
one from identifying them except the teacher himself.
An examination of the pupil developed the same startling originality
in Ruggles's system of orthography, which seemed to be a mixture of
the phonetic and the prevailing awkward method. Thus he insisted that
"purp" was the right way to spell the name of a young dog, whose
correct title was "dorg." Ruggles was finally persuaded to resign,
though he displayed considerable ill feeling and intimated that the
movement was inspired by jealousy of his success.
Budge Isham not only refrained from referring to the slip which the
parson made in his spelling lesson, but spoke in such high terms of
his success with Nellie, that every one conceded the right teacher had
been selected, and it would be a misfortune for any one to assume to
take the place of the parson.
Not until the final summing up of all accounts, will the full measure
of the influence of the little one be known. It was gentle, subtle,
almost imperceptible. Wade Ruggles never broke his resolve not to
touch liquor. Inasmuch as an appetite nourished for years, cannot be
wholly extirpated in a day, he had his moments of intense yearning for
stimulants, when the temptation was powerful, but his will was still
more so, and the time came when the terrific thirst vanished
entirely, though he knew it was simply "asleep" and could be roused
into resistless fury by indulgence in a single glass.
The parson had a severer struggle. After holding out for days, he
yielded, and by his inordinate dissipation brought back matters to a
fair average. Then he set about manfully to retrieve himself. A second
time he fell, and then, thank heaven! he gained the mastery.
Henceforward he was safe.
Maurice Dawson himself had been an occasional tippler for years, but
he felt the influence of example and experienced no trouble in giving
up the habit. Several others did the same, while more tried but "fell
by the wayside."
Landlord Ortigies noticed the diminution in his receipts, but, strange
as it may sound, down in his heart he was not sorry. Like nine out of
ten engaged in his business he was dissatisfied, and like the same
nine out of ten, he longed for the chance to take up some other
calling which would bring him bread and butter and no accusing pangs
of conscience.
Before the coming of Nellie Dawson, brawls and personal encounters
often occurred. The walls of the Heavenly Bower contained several
pounds of lead. Blood had been shed, and the history of the settlement
showed that three persons had died with their boots on, but those
stirring days seemed to have departed forever.
Parson Brush did a good deal of thinking. When through with his pupil,
he was accustomed to take long walks into the mountains, his hands
clasped behind his back and his head bowed in meditation. It is safe
to conclude that Conscience was getting in its work with him.
And so the seasons came and went and the years rolled on. Varick
Thomson, an old miner, who had spent years of fruitless toil in the
diggings of Australia, lay down and died, and the parson officiated at
his funeral. Two other miners grew weary of the poor success in Dead
Man's Gulch and went off on a prospecting tour deeper into the
mountains. A year later another prospecting party came upon two
skeletons, near a small stream of water, which after careful
examination, were pronounced to be those of their former friends,
doubtless victims of the ferocity of the red men. Three vagrant miners
straggled into New Constantinople one night and were hospitably
entertained at the Heavenly Bower. Their appearance was against them,
and, when they announced their intention of making their home at Dead
Man's Gulch, the suggestion to them to move on was made in such terms
that they acted upon it and were never seen there again. Thus it came
about that New Constantinople, instead of increasing in population
and making a bid for the chieftaincy among the new towns in the West,
was actually shrinking in numbers.
And all this time, Nellie Dawson was growing fast. Her beautiful mind
kept pace with the expansion of her body. Her natural grace and
perfection of figure would have roused admiration anywhere. Her
innocence and goodness were an ever present benison to the rough
miners, who had long since learned to check the hasty word, to
restrain the rising temper and to crush the wrongful thought in her
presence.
After a time, Maurice Dawson took possession of one of the deserted
cabins which he fitted up, or rather the community fitted up the
principal apartment for the young queen, whose rule was supreme. No
one else was permitted to share the building with them, though
visitors were constant and Nellie herself continually passed to and
fro among her friends.
But those who watched Dawson saw that a change had come over him.
Formerly there was a quiet waggery in his nature, much like that of
Budge Isham, which led him to enjoy the rough pleasantries of his
companions, though he rarely took part in them, except as an inciting
cause. One of his greatest pleasures had been to sit in the Heavenly
Bower and exchange reminiscences with his friends, but all that came
to an end. Night after night passed without his face being seen in
the place. Those who called at the cabin were treated hospitably, but
he was reserved and moody, and often failed to hear the words
addressed to him. It was evident that there was something on his mind,
though he showed no disposition to make a confidant of any one.