Those were busy days which followed--days all too short for the years of
labor that loomed so drearily before the pioneers; but they set to work
bravely, plowing, building, and planning, and the manifold cares of
their new, strange life left no time for repining over the events of the
past, or even to investigate the nature of that strange visitant which
had so startled them with its fleeting appearance.
Although a hurried search was made near the Old Corral, no trace of the
lost treasure could be discovered; and whenever the subject was
mentioned, or the hope expressed of the ultimate recovery of the
princely treasure, the colonel would discourage it as delusive and
visionary, and would say that the surest way to recover the lost fortune
was to extract the gold from the soil through the medium of the plow and
an application of good "horse sense" to their farming.
Several masons were employed from the nearest town, forty miles distant,
and, after tearing down the walls of the Old Corral, the stone was
utilized in building, first, a dwelling for Colonel Warlow in the grove
in the river's bend; next, a cottage for Clifford on the site of the old
stronghold, which had been entirely obliterated, save that portion which
had fallen over Colonel Warlow years ago, and which had so
providentially shielded him from death. The entire party had decided
that it should remain as a monument of the past, and accordingly the
stones which had been hurled down by the drunken fury of the Indians,
were replaced carefully; so the wall now appeared as it did a quarter of
a century before, on the night of that terrible tragedy.
Squire Moreland and his son Ralph also built, from the same confused
stone-heap, comfortable dwellings a mile down the valley, but situated
on the opposite side of the river from the Warlows; and, as all of the
buildings were located near natural timber, they presented a very
home-like appearance when completed.
But during all the while the plows were kept busily turning the fertile
valley sod, which was planted in corn and millet, thus providing feed
for the stock the ensuing winter.
Yet it must not be supposed by the reader that incessant toil alone
occupied the time of the settlers, to the exclusion of all pleasure; for
many were the pleasant fishing parties and excursions to the Sand Hills,
far off to the north-west, where the delicious sand-plums crimsoned the
low shrubs which clothed the hills, relieving, on these occasions, their
life of monotony.
An occasional antelope-hunt on the Flats to the south was indulged in by
the sporting members of the colony, varied by the excitement of a
wolf-chase or the sight of a stray buffalo.
Then the ceaseless tide of travel on the Santa Fe Trail, thronging with
settlers bound for the rich prairies to the south, was in itself a link
to the past and an endless source of interest to the colonists.
One of the first moves of the Warlow and Moreland families was to
organize a school district, a proceeding which is never omitted by the
first settler of the western prairies, who, the very day he "files,"
begins planning more or less secretly, to secure the location of a
school-house on his "claim."
So, according to pioneer traditions, the district was organized,
consisting of a territory ten miles square, and a meeting was called at
the house of Colonel Warlow, at which assemblage of the settlers it was
decided "to vote bonds to build a school-house immediately."
All the voters present agreed, with perfect unanimity, that "bonding"
was the only feasible method of accomplishing the object which they had
in view; but when it came to specifying the time for which the bonds
were to run, or, in other words, were to mature, then a stormy scene
ensued, and with varying degrees of eloquence the subject was hotly
discussed by the local orators.
It was proposed by one embryo politician--whose speeches were said by
Robbie to be longer than his furrows--"that the bonds be made payable in
one year," in which event the entire amount would have to be met by a
direct tax on all the assessible property in the district; and as the
lands of the settlers would not be subject to taxation for the period of
the next five years, the burden would fall upon the railroad land, which
constituted one-half of all the territory embraced within the limits of
the district; and the aforementioned "political economist" proceeded to
demonstrate to his hearers the beauty and fitness (?) of making a
company of friendly capitalists, who lived, as he averred, over in New
England, not only pay the two thousand dollars which was to build their
school-house, but, in addition to this, be taxed to maintain the school
for the next five years; and he closed his brilliant peroration by
asserting "that his policy was to make all bloated bondholders and
corporation scamps squeal when he had the _chaince_."
The squire and colonel both opposed the measure, the latter replying in
a speech of some length, in which he vigorously attacked the principles
advocated by the "_chaince orator_" saying that it would be both immoral
and unwise to take such a rascally advantage of a company that were
doing so much to help the State and develop its resources. Then he
warned his hearers of the consequences of so unjust a course, telling
them plainly it was little better than highway robbery, and the railroad
company would retaliate by raising the rates of shipping, whereby all
would suffer alike.
But his appeal was disregarded by the rampant majority, and, although he
pleaded with the audience to make the bonds payable in thirty years,
which, he said, was but equitable, the motion to make the bonds payable
in one year was sustained, and one ardent supporter of that _iniquitous_
measure, a man in a coon-skin cap, was heard to remark, as he mounted
his mule, which had one crank leg:--
"Good enough fur them railroad fellers; they just haint got no business
a-comin' out hyur with their bulljine a-spilin' of our freightin'."
Although the free discussion at the meeting led to a feeling of
animosity, the work of building was begun and rapidly pushed forward to
completion, soon as the bonds which had been voted for the purpose could
be disposed of to those same "bloated bondholders" of the East, and by
the middle of August, the large stone school-house, with a bell-tower
and rose window, crowned a knoll just across the river from the Old
Corral.
* * * * *
THE GRASSHOPPER RAID.
A short time after the day on which the new school-house had been
dedicated by a public dinner, in which all the colonists participated, a
peculiar haziness was noticed in the air, and, on looking up at the sun,
swarms of gauzy-winged insects were seen floating southward on the light
breeze; but they were too high for Clifford and Rob--who stood in the
barn-yard wondering what they were--to conjecture the terrible import of
the phenomenon.
Thicker and more dense became the haze, now almost obscuring the sun, or
again thinning out to a silvery mist, which quickly changed to fleecy
clouds again, drifting overhead like the scud of a summer storm.
Mrs. Warlow, who stood on the latticed balcony that ran along the
eastern front of the dwelling, and on which there opened glass doors,
instead of windows, from the long range of dormer gables in the upper
story of that picturesque homestead, was looking out to the north, and
as she saw a dark, strange cloud quickly rising, she called to the boys
to come in at once as a storm was almost upon them.
As the boys glanced out towards the north-west they could see the
unnatural, black cloud stretching across the northern horizon, but
momentarily growing nearer, like a dense shadow on a summer landscape.
Their father, who had been reading on the porch, laid aside his paper on
hearing the unusual commotion, and stepped out in the yard.
"What can it be?" said Clifford anxiously.
"A dust-storm, probably," replied the colonel, as the weather had been
dry and parching hot for several weeks past.
On came the threatening cloud, filling the air from the earth to an
incredible height, and a low muffled roar grew louder every moment;
then, as the startled family sought the shelter of the dwelling, a
seething mass of insects filled the air.
"Grasshoppers! grasshoppers!" cried Rob, dancing about in wild
excitement.
"Locusts!" exclaimed the colonel in great consternation; but even then
no one but himself realized the terrible disaster and wide-spread ruin
which their visit portended; but as he said, gravely, that they were the
dreaded locusts or grasshoppers which often laid waste whole nations of
Spanish-America, devouring every vestige of the growing crops of those
countries and in one day leaving the land like a desert, then the
meaning of the appalling calamity slowly dawned upon them.
It was truly an awe-inspiring scene that met their sight, as they stood
by the wide windows and looked out on the storm of insect life that
raged by, darkening the sun itself as they swarmed along in countless
billions.
One who sees the feeble "hopper" spring aside from his path through the
Eastern meadows can but dimly comprehend the terrible sight--the cubic
miles of winged pests that rush by with a hurtling roar, filling the air
all that day like the drifting snow-flakes, through which the sunlight
dimly glimmered, or rolling by like the rack of some fierce storm.
As the dew-drop that glints quivering in the morning may be a thing of
beauty, but when multiplied by the waters of old ocean becomes grand and
imposing, so it was with this feeble insect when re-enforced by his
multitudinous kinsmen; and when our friends saw his hordes darkening the
sun, and earth and sky swarming with his hosts, they realized, as
Clifford said, "that neither corn nor cotton, but 'hopper,' was king,"
and thenceforth that once reviled insect was held in great respect,
though still regarded as an unmitigated nuisance by all the members of
our colony.
Next morning every tree, shrub, and building was covered by the insects
in huge, dark masses, which flew up in disgusting swarms as the settlers
walked along, and the fields of sod-corn were soon stripped clear of
every ear and blade by the winged pests, and all the vegetables, also,
fell victims to their rapacious appetites--save, perhaps, the warty old
radishes, that stood bravely up in the ruined garden, rejoicing in their
"strength." The woolly stems of the millet, likewise, defied their
insatiable appetites.
The grasshoppers hung about until late in the fall, as if loath to leave
such hospitable friends; and when it became apparent that the pests were
depositing their eggs in the ground, honey-combing the roads, fields,
and banks of the streams with their cells, then the outlook became truly
discouraging; for it was known that the young brood, which the next
summer's sun would hatch out, would work greater havoc and ruin than
that which the settler had just witnessed,--all of which disheartening
prospects only served still more to weaken the vertebræ of those
settlers not endowed by nature with spines like an oak-tree.
Accordingly, near the end of September, this faint-hearted class
inaugurated an hegira back to the Land of the Mother-in-law, and by
their haste it was to be inferred that the much-maligned lady of story
and song had changed her traditional spots, and now stood waiting to
receive them with open hand, on the digital members of which no longer
were visible the "claws" of malicious metaphor.
The long caravan, as it wended its eastward course, was headed by the
"chaince" orator, and the coon-skin cap and crank-legged mule, of
"bulljine" memory, guarded the rear of the retreating host.
It appeared as if the exodus of the settlers was regarded as a signal
of departure by the grasshoppers also; for one fine morning they rose up
in darkening swarms and departed to the south-west.
The Warlow and Moreland families, who had preferred to remain when their
more faint-hearted neighbors left, now proceeded to sow their fields in
wheat and rye, and the autumn rains and warm sunshine soon clothed the
fields with a rank growth of the cereals, which, with the millet,
prairie-hay, and the pasture the wheat-fields afforded, served to keep
their stock in good condition during the mild winter that followed.
Our friends devoted the early winter to building stone barns and
corrals, or pens for the stock, and so busy, indeed, were the energetic
settlers that they could scarcely realize that March was with them
again; but the way in which that wayward jade proceeded to demonstrate
the fact left no doubt in the minds of those who tried to withstand her
windy arguments. Although the weather was very dry, the wheat and rye
fields were green and rank; but when April passed, and had neglected to
shed the customary tears over the frolics of her wayward younger sister,
and the drouth still continued, even the stoical colonel became alarmed
and fearful for the future.
To add to the gloom of the outlook, the warm sunshine had so operated as
an incubator that the earth fairly squirmed with the newly hatched brood
of young grasshoppers; and as May came on still warm and dry, and the
young pests began their dread ravages on the tender young vegetables
and fields of grain, then grim famine, with all its horrors, stared the
settlers in the face.
But on May 16th, a change was noticed in the atmosphere. The barometer
denoted a rain; and as Rob limped about, he said that he could feel a
storm in his bones; but Clifford thought that was owing to his tight
boots.
A north-east wind began to blow, cold and chilly, and a mist wrapped the
earth in its foggy folds until all the hills grew faint and dim; then a
fine, drizzling rain followed, which before noon merged into a perfect
deluge, and the rivulets as they poured down from the highlands, mingled
their gurgling songs with the river's low bass, raging and roaring over
its rocky bed, all making sweet music to the ear of the anxious
colonist.
The Warlow homestead stood, as I have heretofore explained, in a grove
that grew in the river's bend; and as the house was situated on low
ground, some apprehension was felt by the family lest the river should
reach the dwelling; and as the barn was on still lower ground, on the
bank of the stream, it was suggested that the stock should be taken to
the upland pasture; a field that was inclosed with a fence of barbed
wire, and connected with the barn-yard by a lane.
Accordingly, Clifford and Rob drove the horses and mules, with the
cattle, up to the pasture, and after closing the gate started on their
return through the pouring rain; but when they reached the margin of
what was, but an hour before, a shallow, grass-bedded brook, babbling
away through the meadow, they found now a wide glassy stream, to wade
which they knew was impossible; so divesting themselves of their
superfluous clothing, they tied their boots up in bundles to throw
across.
Clifford's budget landed safely; but Rob was not so fortunate, he having
undershot the mark, and he cried:--
"There go my Sundiest boots!"
At the rueful outcry, Clifford turned, just in time to see the bobbing
bundle disappear in the muddy water.
The boys swam over safely (but Robbie's bundle was not recovered until
several days had elapsed, but then found to be sadly water-logged), and
as poor Rob stood shivering in the rain, Clifford gave him his overcoat.
"Oh, a fellow only needs a pair of sandals and a plantain-leaf to keep
off the dew in this dry region," said Rob, as he buttoned the welcome
garment around him.
The boys, after changing their wet garments when they reached home, went
down into the parlor where Maud sat, twanging her guitar and singing:--
"Oh, gentle, gentle summer rain!
Let not the drooping lily pine;"
But Rob interrupted, and with an air of tragedy, sang:--
"Oh, cats and pitchforks cease to rain
And trickle down my chilly spine."
Then, his mother coming in, he proceeded to tell about their "cruise,"
and the sad fate of his bundle.
"Oh, you might have been drowned in that horrid stream!" said Maud,
dropping her guitar in consternation.
"About the only way a fellow can escape such a fate out-doors to-day is
to jump into the river," said Clifford, in high good-humor. "Talk about
the 'dry belt,'" he continued; "I hope that geographical girdle will
soon prove all too short to span this western 'waste.'"
The colonel, who had just come in, said with an anxious face:--
"I am afraid the only dry belt left by morning will be the upstairs,
unless this flood ceases soon."
At this announcement Mrs. Warlow and Maud flew into a panic, saying they
would all be drowned; to which gloomy predictions the colonel and
Clifford replied with arguments to the effect that the house being of
stone would resist any flood, and all that was necessary to insure their
safety, would be to retire to the upper story of the dwelling in case
the water rose into the house; and the feminine portion of the household
was soon reassured, and busied themselves preparing an early supper,
while the stronger members of the family were busy carrying the
furniture up to that place of refuge.
The books, pictures, carpets, and other "household goods," were soon
beyond danger; but the old rosewood piano was a load which nearly defied
their united efforts, though it, too, was successfully drawn up the
stairway with the aid of block and tackle, and finally the store of
provisions--a very slender store indeed--was carried to the upper rooms.
After the hasty supper, Clifford and Bob went to the stream, lantern in
hand, to take a survey of the situation. They found the river lacked now
but a foot of reaching the upper bank, and as it was still raining in
torrents they realized the gravity of their position.
It was a strange, weird sight--the sullen, roaring stream; but yesterday
a silvery chain, scarce linking the shallow pools where pebbles and
shells had shown in the clear, quiet depths--now a mad, dark river,
boiling and swirling along in the red glare of the light.
When they had returned to the dwelling and reported the situation, the
colonel looked very grave, and they began to canvass the prospect of a
retreat. There was Clifford's dwelling, they remembered, at the Old
Corral, situated high and dry; but to reach it they would have to cross
a stream that was a foaming torrent, and the wild, swift river on the
south completely cut them off from retreat in that direction; while away
to the north stretched the limitless prairie, with not a habitation for
more than a score of miles to shelter them from the cold and driving
rain.