AN ENCOUNTER WITH PIRATES, AND A FORTUNATE DELIVERANCE; BEN FOUND;
HIS PROMPT START FOR MISSOURI AND UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL; A SON BORN TO
THE PELTONS.
Near the noon hour, with the headland yet in the distance, Pelton
noticed two canoes whose occupants were paddling as if speed were a
question of life or death with them. Not long afterward, another was
seen going frantically in the same direction, followed closely by two
more. Steicca observed the racing canoes, but though evidently
disturbed as to the cause, discreetly said nothing.
About the same time Kate saw either a boat or large canoe coming
directly toward them and wondering what it could mean, called Isaac's
attention to it. Sally had likewise discovered the craft and showed
signs of uneasiness. A friend had told the story of how, many years
ago, her little boy was taken captive by the northern Indians,
carried off into slavery, and had never been heard from since.
Somehow the appearance of this boat or large canoe revived the memory
of that occurrence and created a fear for the safety of Pete.
Slavery was once practiced in her own tribe (though at that time
discontinued); but she had been told by other Indians that the
northern tribes were known to still {138} follow the practice, which
seemed corroborated by the taking of her friend's boy. As the large
craft approached nearer, Sally hid Pete under the cover of a mat
beside her with fearsome admonitions that impelled him to lie quiet
and not betray his presence.
Pelton's suspicions led him to slip his fowling piece out of sight,
and Kate's trusted rifle was under the outfit in the bottom of the
canoe. Isaac directed that no sign of fear should be manifested when
they were overtaken, and all intercourse with the strangers be left
to him.
As the pirates came alongside they insolently threw a line over the
bow and stern posts, and then lashed the two canoes firmly together;
being much longer and wider, theirs loomed high above that of
Pelton's. It was of the pattern of the canoe in which the northern
tribes manned with seventy or more men went boldly to sea on their
whaling excursions; while not one of the largest, it would easily
hold twenty men.
Seven were on each side, with paddles in their hands, one at the helm
and a lookout in the bow, sixteen in all stalwart men in size and
physical condition far above the tribes farther south. The same may
be said of their mentality. In the northern tribes were painters and
sculptors of considerable ability, as evidenced by their totem poles,
inscriptions on rocks and ornaments of their mammoth canoes.
There were silversmiths in some of the tribes, as {139} shown by many
specimens offered for sale on occasions of their peaceful visits to
the white settlements. Nor were the women behind the men in ability
for fine work, abundantly illustrated by baskets, mats and other
articles for ornaments or domestic use.
Ethnologists attribute the superiority of these northern tribes in
part to a mixture of Japanese blood from castaways in past centuries,
perhaps even in prehistoric days; facial resemblances suggest the
fact, which seems to be confirmed by the remains of wrecked junks on
the northern coast. These were the people into whose clutches Pelton
and Kate had fallen on their honeymoon trip.
The spokesman for the buccaneers began by saying that they wanted a
tent, one of which was in sight, to which Pelton firmly responded
that he did not have any to spare. He had noticed a ship beating up
the Sound against the wind that had tacked toward them, and realized
that a parley to gain time until the ship came nearer would be their
best chance of escape.
Isaac noticed a silver ring on the spokesman's hand and offered to
buy it for his bride; for a moment the wily savage was thrown off his
guard, and looked Kate over with evident satisfaction. Just then one
of the men said something in a low tone, and after several articles
had been snatched by the robbers, the lines fastening the two canoes
together were suddenly cast off.
This precipitate action was caused by the near {140} approach of the
ship then bearing directly upon them; but unfortunately, it tacked
and bore rapidly away the same moment the lines had been loosened
from the canoe. Instantly all four paddles were frantically wielded
to overtake the ship, until by a supreme effort Steicca broke his.
The Indians soon discovered their advantage, but did not give chase
until they observed that the space between their victims and the ship
was widening. Kate then gave her paddle to Steicca and intently
watched the movement of their recent captors.
"As I live, Isaac, they have started to follow us," she said, as the
bow of the robber canoe was turned toward them, "is your gun loaded?"
"It is not," Pelton answered. "Then load it quick, and be careful,"
she cautioned, speaking while reaching down for her rifle and
ammunition so as to be ready for action at the crucial moment.
Realizing that it was impossible to escape by racing their few
paddles against fourteen, Isaac loaded his gun and deliberately
calmed his nerves for the contest. The ship was now too far away to
render assistance, and the robbers were rapidly gaining on them.
While yet beyond rifle shot, Pelton directed Steicca and Sally to
cease paddling, not to make any movement in the canoe other than to
keep it pointed on its course, and for Steicca to lie down.
"I believe you can reach them now, Kate," Isaac said. "Wait a
minute," came the response in a firm {141} voice, while she stood
upright in the canoe. We may well believe the aim was deliberate,
for the bullet lodged in the body of the lookout, who tumbled off his
perch into the water.
It took but a moment to reload the rifle. Pelton could not reach the
buccaneers with his fowling piece at that distance, and held his fire
in reserve. The robbers stopped to pick up their dead or wounded
comrade.
Sally and Steicca resumed their strenuous paddling as Kate sat down;
but when Isaac saw the Indians coming toward them a second time, he
again directed to cease paddling so their craft would be steady for
aim at the next victim. Onward came the great canoe, again Kate
reserved her fire and was successful in hitting her target--this time
the helmsman. As the canoe swung off its course to within range of
Pelton's gun, he disabled two or more on her broadside.
By this time the ship tacked again and was now approaching, while a
sloop rounded the nearby point and made directly toward the
distressed voyagers. Seeing these, the marauders drew off toward the
eastern channel, and were soon out of sight.
It is unlikely that they ceased the pursuit because of their losses,
for it is a matter of history that once this same tribe had 117
warriors in a combat, besides their women and children. During the
fight 27 were killed and 21 wounded; but they held out stubbornly for
two days, when hunger {142} compelled them to yield. Another
historic reference illustrating the ferocity of this tribe, the
"Haidahs," states that "both ships were attacked by northern Indians
when off the upper end of Vashon Island; all on board, eleven in
number, were murdered and the ships plundered and burned."
When the ship was finally hailed, no explanation was required, as the
pilot had heard the guns; the captain, with the aid of his glass,
knew what had happened. As the canoe came alongside, he cordially
invited all, including the Indians with the Peltons, on board; he
also took up the canoe, as he was intending to cast anchor off the
village from whence they came.
Nothing on the ship was too good for his unexpected guests. The
captain had heard of Kate's experience as Deputy Sheriff, but not of
the wedding. His enthusiasm at that news knew no bounds; by the time
they arrived at the village he insisted that the bride accept a
silver table service which she treasured to the end of her life as
the present from the big-hearted captain.
Pete had the time of his life with the sailors, who were surprised to
see the bright little fellow, up to all sorts of pranks as he
explored the ship from stem to stern and from top to bottom. He and
his mother were fairly loaded down with presents; Pete never forgot
his sailor friends, and in fact became a sailor himself.
The evening after their arrival at the village, {143} Kate and Pelton
rowed out to the ship, still at anchor in the harbor, to offer the
old tar sincere thanks and leave with him some token of good will and
appreciation for the opportune way in which he appeared upon the
scene and rescued them from imminent peril of the northern savages.
Capt. Pierson was past middle age but in perfect health, and an
impulsive jollity pervaded his whole being. He would not listen to
their leaving the ship until after dinner, nor to their profuse
thanks for his act.
"Oh, that's nothing; a man who did not respond in such an emergency
would be a brute. I only wish I could have chastised the rascals,"
he said--and meant it.
The captain belonged to a class of seafaring men (now almost
extinct), which once carried the Stars and Stripes to the farthermost
corners of the earth--free and easy with comrades, but usually a
strict disciplinarian, though sympathetic with his men. He was the
aristocratic ruler of the little world within the bounds of the ship,
their home and castle; all were inured to the hardships of long
voyages without complaint, but every one greatly enjoyed the respite
of a few days in port.
From time immemorial the "ships that go down to the sea" have carried
the commerce of the world, and planted the seeds of civilization in
every clime. It is difficult to realize that all this has been
changed within the range of one span of life. Only a very small
number of sailing ships now leave the ports {144} of the United
States; and the noble "clippers," the pride of the nation at that
period, very seldom grace the waters of the two hemispheres any more.
And the rugged, jolly captains, bronzed and weather-beaten, rough in
speech and stern in looks though usually kind-hearted and generous
beneath the surface, have almost vanished--like their ships.
Seafaring men who navigate the oceans in the immense vessels of the
present time are entirely unlike the old-time sailors in appearance
and actions. The modern crew appear upon our thoroughfares in fancy
uniforms, the officers resplendent in gold braid and gilt buttons,
and the common sailors in natty uniforms, usually without anything to
mar their dandified appearance. One can easily tell that reefing a
mainsail or splicing a rope is no longer part of their duty.
But the old-timers came ashore careless in appearance and rollicking
in manner, out for a good time--ready for a fight or a frolic--and
usually had it. Now they belong to the things that were, and we see
no more of them.
Captain Pierson believed the reason the Indians did not return the
fire was that their spokesman wanted to take Kate captive, for they
could have destroyed the little honeymoon party without mercy. The
confusion incident to the loss of their helmsman, quickly followed by
the wounding of several of their paddlers, and the sudden tacking of
the ship so disconcerted their plans that the marauders barely {145}
had time to get beyond reach of the howitzers on its deck. It was
late when Pelton and Kate fairly tore themselves away from the jovial
captain and left the ship, and long past midnight before the council
of Kate, Isaac and Squire Mulhall broke up, after agreeing upon a
plan of action.
Pelton had several times spoken about his former slaves, Andrew and
Jennie, whom he had left in Iowa; and could not banish from his mind
thoughts of the danger that "night riders" from Missouri might carry
them off into captivity. Besides, Jennie had cared for him with a
mother's solicitude after the death of his own mother while he was
still quite young; and Andrew had always been kind to him in his
boyhood days, as well as faithful to his interest in later life. And
that unsophisticated little girl, Margie! Somehow he could not feel
easy in his mind to leave them where they were; now they were
separated, he realized that he remembered, and appreciated more than
ever before, their kind and considerate acts toward him.
How to bring them on from Iowa to Oregon was a problem with almost
insurmountable obstacles, which Isaac had thoroughly discussed with
Kate, taking advantage of that favorable opportunity to let her know
that he had abundant means in Missouri to provide for their trip--and
to her surprise a fairly large sum besides. While Kate had not
married for money, she was nevertheless gratified to know that Pelton
possessed a goodly fortune, and sympathized {146} with his laudable
desire to expend a part of it to better the condition of his former
slaves.
Kate resolved to share Ben's secret with both her father and husband,
and to suggest that the Squire should go to see or send for Ben. She
would also have her father and Isaac supply him with enough money to
bring Linda to Oregon with Andrew, Jennie and the little girl Margie.
All instantly agreed to the plan, and became so enthusiastic that
they forgot all about their recent escape from death, and the cares
of pioneer life still confronting them.
"I will not go until school is out," the Squire said, "and then will
take the girls with me." He had noticed that they continued to
harbor jealous thoughts toward Pelton. Kate reminded her father that
any considerable delay would make it too late for Ben to cross the
plains the next season. Isaac advised by all means to avoid the
Isthmus route as being too uncertain, dangerous and withal very
expensive.
Pelton announced that he would start at once, and search for a claim
until he found one that suited him; then he would immediately proceed
to prepare a home, and be away most of the time until school closed.
In acceding to this suggestion, the Squire said he would take the
girls over to Ben's claim in the spring, as he intended to care for
it himself while the young man was making the trip; and was
anticipating the opportunity to repay Ben for his faithful and honest
service on the long trail.
{147}
So intent had been the council, that all forgot the lateness of the
hour; the thought of sleep was banished by the excitement incident to
the plans made, but all felt supremely happy. Father Mulhall
suggested that they celebrate a little by an oyster supper, even at
the unseasonable hour; and Kate, who the very evening before had
secured some Puget Sound oysters from an Indian, instantly seconded
the suggestion. Oysters, unlike other shell fish of the Sound, were
rare and confined to small areas of beds.
Kate had learned that though very small--not larger than one's finger
nail--these were very delicious; and had provided them to celebrate
their wedding a month ago to-morrow. And here it was, the date
already ushered in, though the sun had not risen! Her celebration
was intended as a secret to be disclosed as a surprise to her husband
and father to demonstrate how supremely happy she was, not only in
the escape from captivity among the hordes of northern savages, but
as the wife of Isaac Pelton. There was no toastmaster or speeches at
the little banquet that followed; but a spirit of unalloyed
cheerfulness prevailed, and all were very hopeful of what the near
future would bring forth.
Mulhall's search for Ben proved a short one, as the crude records of
the self-surveyed Donation claims quickly revealed the identity of
the nearby participants, and the Squire was delayed only a day in
reaching the location chosen by his young friend. {148} Ben was a
short distance from his cabin splitting rails from a worm fence to
protect the crops of the following season, when the Squire arrived;
and, following the sound of the maul soon came upon Ben intently
engaged at his task, not dreaming of the presence of anyone behind
him.
Mulhall stopped a moment in mute surprise at the change that had come
over the young man. He was looking at a stalwart frame instead of
the slim lad who had helped to train the team in the Missouri
barn-yard; and stood as if fascinated until Ben by a change in
position became aware that a figure was standing near him.
"Why, father!" "Why, Ben!" sufficed for the greeting, but not so the
hand-shakes that followed, for the Squire clasped Ben in his arms,
while tears of joy fell upon his own cheeks. We may well believe
that a pleasant visit followed, but it was soon interrupted by the
important information to be shared between them.
Ben listened, as if in a dazed condition of mind, to words that
seemed to be too good to be true; but when he grasped the full
meaning of the Squire's message, it was Ben's turn to display
so-called weakness; he threw his arms around Mulhall's neck and
planted a kiss upon the furrowed cheek of his friend and benefactor.
But the Squire considered that all he had done, or proposed to do,
was only a recompense in part for a debt that could never be paid in
full.
{149}
"But, father, what am I to do about my claim?" Ben asked after taking
a little time to think over the proposed trip. "Well, I'm going to
stay here until you come back with that young wife; and you may be
sure there will be some crops growing when you return," the Squire
responded. So preparations were made almost at once for the proposed
trip; and time began to pass.
No one could tell how long it would take to reach the old home,
though Ben knew that he must go out to sea over a dangerous bar where
recently there had been a wreck, with the loss of many lives. Thence
on to and across the Isthmus and to New York, where he would reverse
the direction of travel and turn his face westward toward their
former home in Missouri.[1] Parts of the journey would be by
railroad, stage-coach, horseback and steamboat.
We cannot record the incidents of the trip, thrilling though some of
them were; it will suffice here to say that on a frosty noonday in
February, 185-, Ben clasped his surprised mother to his breast with
the utterance of one word, "Mother." The story of another overland
journey from Missouri to the Oregon country will be told after we
have followed the fortunes or misfortunes of David Mulhall, Isaac
Pelton and his bride, and the two little twin sisters.
{150}
It will be remembered that when the Squire left home to find Ben
Hardy, Pelton was preparing to look for a claim where he could
establish the home so long pictured in his mind. In the course of
his wanderings, Isaac had some thrilling experiences which came near
ending in tragedy. The Oregon Country of almost limitless extent--as
one might say, a thousand miles each way--presented many and varied
conditions to confuse and impel one to continued search, with
something new almost every day.
In the small corner of the great region which Pelton examined there
were no roads or provision for crossing rivers, and only a few sparse
settlements. When a cabin was found, he was always assured of a
cordial welcome and the best it afforded; but at length, after a two
days' tramp he was virtually lost, without blankets or food. That
somewhat cooled his ardor; and as he had already overstayed the set
time, Isaac suddenly abandoned the search and turned his face
homeward. He arrived there safely, to the great relief of Kate, who
had become very uneasy at his prolonged absence and non-return at the
appointed time.
Pelton's story of what he had seen and experienced--wading a river
nearly waist deep, slipping off a log into the water and swimming
with his boots on, losing the trail and camping in the deep forest
overnight without fire, blankets or food--cast a shadow over the
bright pictures of a home in the minds of {151} both; but he had
found a magnificent country, and intended to go back and try again.
At first Pelton resolved not to tell Kate of the mishaps of the trip,
of the real hardships endured or how he had come so near to death's
door.
He argued to himself that it would only sadden her and do no good.
Then the question as to whether or not he was justified in having a
secret from his trustful wife would come uppermost in his mind. If
he now began with one, others would surely follow, and the resolve--a
compact with himself--was made that he would have none; so the full
story was told to her.
A month passed and though several trips were made, no location was
yet found to suit him. Finally, he received information from a
neighbor about some excellent land not yet taken; and immediately
starting out to examine the tract, found it even better than
represented. After staking his claim, he returned and informed Kate
of his good fortune in finding a location satisfactory in every
essential respect.
Father Mulhall wrote that Ben had started on his long trip, and was
now well on the way; and that as soon as school closed, he would come
after the girls. He added that he would plant on Ben's claim and
stay with the crops until he returned; and as a postscript, Wouldn't
Kate like to come over with the girls, and see Ben's claim and Craig?
In reality the Squire was lonesome and wanted his daughter with {152}
him for awhile; he also knew that she and the girls would enjoy the
trip--besides he had a surprise in store for them.
Pelton said, "By all means, go; it will be a nice jaunt for the
girls, though a little rough. I'll give each of them a pony to make
the trip horseback, and all can have a jolly good time on the way, as
well as while there." He was enthusiastic in urging Kate to go,
while she didn't feel sure of wanting to do so.
The fact was, she was more inclined to move out on the claim which
she had not seen, while Isaac planned to wait until he could have a
surprise for her in the new house he was contemplating. Kate
suggested building a cabin, where she could be as happy as in a more
commodious residence, to which Pelton assented with a mental
reservation that he would build one for Andrew and Jennie. And if
Kate persisted, they could live in the cabin while the house was
being built, though that would defeat the surprise party he had in
mind.
"Isaac, I believe you want to get rid of me," Kate jestingly said one
day after making up her mind to go with the girls; but lovingly
added, "you'll feel sorry after I have gone." However, they
understood each other and were drawn closer together by the thought
of temporary separation.
Pelton's attention was called to two ponies so nearly alike in build,
size and marks that it required close observation to distinguish
"Tom" from "Jerry"--both beauties, with keen bright eyes, lively yet
{153} docile, and safe for the girls to ride. He did not let the
extra price asked stand in the way of his becoming the owner of them;
and purchased two new saddles and bridles to set them off handsomely.
A small riding whip, though not needed in riding, was attached to
each saddle.
On the afternoon of the last day of school, the ponies were brought
by Pelton's direction into the front yard before the girls came home.
Their manes and foretops were plaited with red, white and blue
ribbons; and they held up their heads as if proud of the decorations.
Before Isaac rode off to the homestead to be gone overnight, Kate was
enjoined not to tell them from whom the ponies came--only to say they
were presents, and "lots" might be drawn to determine which one of
the girls should own "Tom," and which one should have "Jerry."
"Who brought these here, Mamma? Where is he? Tell him to take them
away!" was spoken in such quick succession as to preclude the
possibility of an answer until the questions and the exclamation had
been completed.
"The man said they belonged to two little girls that live in this
house; he left them in the front yard, but went away without any
explanation," Kate replied. All of this was true, though not all
that she knew. Kate and the girls then took hold of the halters, and
led the ponies outside the garden gate.
"What did you mean, Mamma, when you said they belonged to two little
girls that live here?"
{154}
"That's what the man said when he left them and went away."
"But you don't mean it?" persisted Sarah.
"I only told you what the man said."
"Yes, but you don't believe it, do you?" Sarah came back in an
attitude of cross-questioning.
"Look on the pummel of the saddle and see," Kate responded; and in
doing so displayed evidence of knowing more about the case than she
had intended to reveal.
"From Santa Claus to Sarah," the girl read as she held in her hand
the paper just taken from the saddle, unnoticed before. Then she
intently re-read the label, and exclaimed, "Oh, I know--it's from
Uncle Isaac, as sure as I am alive."
For the first time in her life she had called Pelton "uncle"; before
it was either "Mr. Pelton," "Sir," or some monosyllable to address or
make reply. Sarah had recognized the handwriting on the note, and
then knew instantly where the present came from.
Now that she was trapped, Kate gave away the whole plan about the
intended trip to see father and Craig, and have a good time on the
trip besides. Sarah fairly worshiped Craig since the memorable scene
at the lone pine on the Oregon Trail. His promise, "I will mark your
mother's grave so you can find it the longest day you live," had sunk
deep in her memory and fixed in her youthful mind the thought that
some day she would visit {155} the sacred spot and pay homage to her
saintly mother--the germ of a plan that led in later years to a
pilgrimage to the grave, as will subsequently appear.
Next morning the ponies were returned to the front gate of the garden
all ready for a run in the country, and with a riding mare for
"mamma." The girls had not forgotten their experience of riding
"Nell" on the plains, but were at first shy of the ponies. Sarah
soon plucked up courage to mount Tom, while the Indian boy held him;
but in a spirit of mischief, the boy suddenly let go of the halter,
whereupon the pony started off on a canter before the rider was
fairly seated, or could grasp the reins.
Up the village street they went on a gallop, Sarah holding onto the
pummel of the saddle, with her feet dangling in the air outside the
stirrups. Tom stopped of his own accord at the hitching rack in
front of the village store, and Sarah scrambled off the pony's back
as quickly as possible to be out of sight of the idlers there. Her
teacher, happening by and seeing her predicament, held Tom until she
mounted with both feet in the stirrups and reins firmly in hand; then
with the pony under control, she was soon back at the starting place
by the garden gate.
When all three were mounted, the course taken led up the hill and at
a more moderate gait until the prairie was reached. A delightful day
in the wide, open spaces, with a visit to the old camping ground and
a canter back home in the evening, ended their first day of horseback
riding in joviality and {156} pleasure. A few days of such practice
sufficed to prepare them for their long jaunt on the road or trail to
Ben's cabin beyond the big river, over the prairies and through dense
forests.
Following a narrow road the third day out, Sarah leaned over to avoid
the overhanging brush and fell sprawling into a sea of mud, the
saddle having turned to Tom's side. Seeing her sister's predicament
Bess laughed, but Sarah rather pettishly said she couldn't see
anything funny about it, to which sister readily assented, but
admitted that somehow or other she couldn't help it. The incident
had a serious side, as her clothes were now spattered with sticky mud
from head to foot; her shoes were filled with it and even her hair
bedaubed.
It was necessary to stop and clean her clothes, empty her shoes,
gouge the mud out of her ears and wash it off of her face. A few
miles further on, it became Sarah's turn to laugh when Bess was
scraped off her saddle and tumbled over Jerry's rump, holding onto
his tail to lighten the fall; but Bess couldn't see anything funny
about that! After numerous mishaps, the party finally reached the
river steamer, where the ponies were comfortably stalled; then all
the party had a general clean-up on the upper deck, and a good laugh
together as the adventures on the road were recounted.
In two days more of tiresome traveling, with the glamour of a
horseback ride worn off, Ben's cabin was reached and father Mulhall's
welcoming kiss {157} bestowed. Notwithstanding the various
adventures on the trip, all enjoyed the experience, and expressed a
desire to return the same way.
The very next day, Craig came, as he did every other Sunday of the
month, to make good a legal "residence" on his claim. He was a great
favorite with the twins, and the reunion that followed repaid all the
fatigue of their trip. Toward evening he excused himself to visit a
neighbor, and withdrew, leaving his end of the cabin free to the
visitors.
Only a week had passed when, to her father's surprise, Kate announced
that she would start for home the next day after the morrow. He felt
hurt that the daughter he loved so well should cut her visit short;
but nothing he could say would alter her resolution. Kate had a
reason of her own which she did not explain to her father--but which
he would know later, and the reader will probably surmise.
Pelton was as much surprised at her sudden return as the Squire had
been upon her hasty departure; and his plan of introducing Kate into
a finished residence, of which he was certain she would be proud, was
frustrated. He had all the workmen that could be employed to
advantage in hastening completion of the residence, including hot and
cold water under pressure in the kitchen, a convenience she had never
experienced.
Isaac admitted to himself that he was pleased when Kate told him she
preferred to stay for the present in their village home. But when he
returned from {158} the claim on the second Saturday, he found the
drawer of the dresser locked--something that had not happened
before--and his razor, shaving cup and brush outside. Pelton was
becoming conscious that Kate had a secret she didn't want to
disclose, but said nothing about it.
Work on the residence progressed apace; and every Saturday Isaac came
to spend Sunday in the village. Somewhat to his relief, Kate had not
yet expressed a desire to visit the new home; but a month later
Pelton was ready, and to his delight Kate, still without an inkling
of the great surprise in store for her, said that she was willing to
go.
One day, after Kate had been at the new home for a few weeks,
enjoying it with indescribable pleasure, a lady and gentleman drove
up to the front door. Though strangers, she had evidently expected
them, and promptly directed the man where to stable his horses, and
then asked him into the house for lunch, though it was after the
usual hour. The woman went at once to the kitchen and began helping
to prepare the lunch and to make herself otherwise useful.
Isaac came in later, but expressed no surprise at their presence, for
he was also expecting them. Without ceremony, the lady took charge
of the household work, while the gentleman sauntered into the library
and became absorbed among the books in the small but choice selection
on the shelves. Thus a week passed in quiet expectation.
One night a light was left burning in the room {159} up-stairs, and
neither of the visitors retired at the usual hour. The nurse
remained in the room with Kate, and the doctor made frequent visits
there, finally remaining a considerable length of time. Then, in
answer to Pelton's anxious inquiry, he said, "It's a boy, and a
rousing little fellow he is."
When father Mulhall heard that he had a grandson, the mystery of
Kate's early departure was explained; and his slight pique was turned
to joy and exultation, increased by parental pride in the daughter
who had always been so loving and helpful to him. As soon as they
knew about it, the twins were very anxious to see their nephew, and
filled with childlike pride at the prospect of being called "aunt."
[Illustration: BABE IN THE WOODS; SEE ALSO PAGE 188.]
[1] The map of the Oregon Trail and the National Road on page 8 will
give the reader some idea of the principal routes traveled to
Missouri, either from the Atlantic Coast or the Pacific Northwest,
during the period covered by this narrative. E.M.
{160}