A VOLUNTEER.
Doctor Dick had an uneventful run to W----, and arrived without accident
or delay on time at the end of his journey. He was well received, but
the stage-agent told him that not a volunteer had put in an appearance
for the place of driver. Double the price had been offered, but there
were no takers, and the agent added:
"You must find some daredevil at Last Chance who is willing to risk his
life upon the box, while rest assured, Doctor Dick, I have reported your
noble service for the company in its need and it will be appreciated."
"I do not care for pay, or thanks, only I wish to be relieved of a duty
I do not like, especially as it interferes with my own work," was the
answer.
Just before the time came for the starting of the coach a horseman rode
up and dismounted at the stage office. He was an odd-looking individual,
tall, but with a hump on his back, awkward in gait, and dressed in
buckskin leggings and hunting-shirt.
His hair was long, very long, bushy, and would have been white but for
its soiled appearance, and he had it cropped, or banged in front like an
Indian, or fashionable young miss, to keep it out of his eyes.
His face was clean-shaven, but the hue of leather, and he wore a pair of
iron-rimmed spectacles.
His slouch-hat was worn in reality, for the rim fell down upon his
shoulders, save in front where the flap was turned up and fastened with
an army-button.
He was armed with a pair of old, but serviceable revolvers, an
ugly-looking bowie-knife with a deer-horn handle, and a combined rifle
and shotgun, double-barreled.
His horse was as queer as his master in appearance, being a large,
raw-boned animal, with patches of hair upon him, a long tangled mane and
tail, and he was unshod, though his hoofs looked as tough as iron.
The saddle was also a back number, and the stake-rope served for a
bridle as well. A lariat hung at the saddle-horn, also a hatchet, and in
a large rubber blanket was rolled his bedding, while a bag contained a
coffee-pot, frying-pan, tin cup, plate, and some provisions.
He looked the crowd over as he drew rein, and asked quietly:
"Who's boss o' this layout?"
"I am," and the stage-agent stepped forward.
"I hears thet yer wants a man ter drive yer old hearse on ther trail ter
Last Chance and back."
"I do."
"I'm yer huckleberry."
"You?"
"Yas, me."
"Are you a driver?"
"Ef I wasn't I'd not be sich a durned fool as ter trust myself on a
two-story hearse, pard."
"Who sent you here?"
"Nobody, for I hain't one ter be sent."
"Where did you come from?"
"Ther up-country, whar I has been trappin', huntin', prospectin', and
killin' a Injin or two--see!"
"And now you wish to turn stage-driver?"
"If it pays what they told me at Fort Faraway I does."
"The pay is good; but have you no references?"
"Yas."
"Where are they?"
"Here."
The old man put his hands upon his revolvers and drew them with a
lightninglike motion that surprised the lookers-on.
"They are pretty good references on a pinch, and you may have cause to
use them if you drive this trail."
"I has used them before, and I guess I kin do it ag'in," was the quiet
response.
"When could you begin?"
"Now."
"What is your name?"
"Old Huckleberry, but the boys calls me old Huck for short; but durn
ther name, call me what yer wants ter, and I'll be thar."
"Well, Pard Huckleberry, I rather like your style, and have a mind to
give you a trial."
"Ef yer kin do better, don't do it; but if yer can't, count on me, for
as I said afore, I'm yer huckleberry, and ready for the game."
Doctor Dick had been closely looking at the old volunteer and said
something in a whisper to the stage-agent, who at once said:
"I'll take you, and the time for starting is almost up."
"I'm ready, only take care of my horse at my expense," and the volunteer
dismounted ready for work.
When old Huckleberry mounted the stage-box, Doctor Dick yielded to him
the reins, which he seized in a somewhat awkward manner, yet with the
air of one who knew just what to do; took the whip, gave it a resounding
crack, and started off at a brisk pace.
There were four passengers inside, all miners going to Last Chance,
lured there by the rumor of richer mines having been found, for the
stories were circulating more and more that there were rich finds being
discovered there every day.
"That man knows how to handle the reins as well as the best of them, old
though he may be, and a trifle awkward," said the stage-agent, as he saw
the volunteer driver sending his team along, at a slapping pace, in
spite of the fact that the trail was none of the best along there.
The coach soon disappeared from the sight of those at W----, made the
night halt on time, and as soon as he had had his supper the new driver
wrapped himself in his blankets and threw himself down outdoors,
declining the invitation of the stock-tender to sleep in the cabin.
He was on his box on time the next morning, and with Doctor Dick by his
side, went off on his run.
He was a man disposed to silence, for he did not speak often, unless
Doctor Dick addressed him. But he would ask now and then about the
trails, and showed some interest in the gambler-king's stories of the
different road-agents' attacks upon the way to Last Chance.
He greeted the stock-tenders at the relay-stations pleasantly, said he
hoped to be with them for some time, and kept the team at the pace set
for schedule-time.
Passing the scenes of the several tragedies, he drew rein for a few
minutes and attentively regarded the surroundings, but drove on again
without a word of comment.
Doctor Dick had become more and more interested in the strange driver,
had told him all he could about the trail, the time to make going and
coming, and was anxious to have him make no mistakes, he said.
He tried to draw him out time and again, but in vain. All he could learn
from him was that he had lived for many years upon the frontier and
preferred to do so for reasons best known to himself.
He said he was trapper, Indian-fighter, hunter, and prospector, that was
all, and he tried to do his duty in every work he undertook. More he
would not say of himself, and the doctor gave up trying to "pump" him.
When the coach came in sight of Last Chance, old Huckleberry showed no
satisfaction at having made the run in safety, or excitement at driving
in for the first time.
He quickened the pace of his team, handled his reins with a skill that
won the admiration, as he had all along, of Doctor Dick, and at last
came to a halt before the hotel with a whoop and the words:
"Here we be, boss!"
Doctor Dick introduced old Huckleberry from the box, as soon as the
cheer that greeted their arrival had died away.
"Pards, I is glad ter know yer, and I greets yer," and with this old
Huckleberry dismounted from the box and asked at once for the
"feed-room."
He ate his supper with a relish, smoked his pipe, and, declining a bed
in the hotel, saying it would smother him to sleep in between walls,
took an ax and hatchet, with a few nails, and, going up on the hillside
where there was a thicket, soon built for himself a wickiup that would
keep him sheltered even in a storm.
He carried his few traps there, and then stuck up a notice which read:
"Old Huckleberry's Claim."
Having completed his quarters, he strolled about among the saloons and
gambling-dens, watched the playing, but neither drank nor gambled, and
at last, tiring of looking on, went to his roost and turned in for the
night, an object of curiosity to all, yet also of admiration, for a man
who would volunteer to drive the coach over that trail was one to
command respect in Last Chance.