We must now leap over a considerable space, not only of distance, but of
time, in order to appreciate fully the result of Charlie Brooke's
furious letter-writing and amazing powers of persuasion.
Let the reader try to imagine a wide plateau, dotted with trees and
bushes, on one of the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains, where that
mighty range begins to slide into union with the great prairies. It
commands a view of mingled woodland and rolling plain, diversified by
river and lake, extending to a horizon so faint and far away as to
suggest the idea of illimitable space.
Early one morning in spring, five horsemen, emerging from a belt of
woodland, galloped to the slope that led to the summit of this plateau.
Drawing rein, they began slowly to ascend. Two of the cavaliers were
young, tall, and strong;--two were portly and old, though still hearty
and vigorous; one, who led them, on a coal-black steed, was a
magnificent specimen of the backwoodsman, and one, who brought up the
rear, was a thin little man, who made up for what he wanted in size by
the energy and vigour of his action, as, with hand and heel, he urged an
unwilling horse to keep up with the rest of the party.
Arrived at the summit of the plateau, the leading horseman trotted to
its eastern edge, and halted as if for the purpose of surveying the
position.
"Here we are at last," he said, to the tallest of his comrades;
"Sweetwater Bluff--and the end of our journey!"
"And a most noble end it is!" exclaimed the tall comrade. "Why, Hunky
Ben, it far surpasses my expectations and all you have said about it."
"Most o' the people I've had to guide over this trail have said pretty
much the same thing in different words, Mr Brooke," returned the scout,
dismounting. "Your wife will find plenty o' subjects here for the
paintin' she's so fond of."
"Ay, May will find work here to keep her brushes busy for many a day to
come," replied Charlie, "though I suspect that other matters will claim
most of her time at first, for there is nothing but a wilderness here
yet."
"You've yet to larn, sir, that we don't take as long to _fix_ up a town
hereaway as you do in the old country," remarked Hunky Ben, as old Jacob
Crossley ambled up on the staid creature which we have already
introduced as _Wheelbarrow_.
Waving his hand with enthusiasm the old gentleman exclaimed, "Glorious!"
Indeed, for a few minutes he sat with glistening eyes and heaving
chest, quite unable to give vent to any other sentiment than "glorious!"
This he did at intervals. His interest in the scene, however, was
distracted by the sudden advent of Captain Stride, whose horse--a
long-legged roan--had an awkward tendency, among other eccentricities,
to advance sideways with a waltzing gait, that greatly disconcerted the
mariner.
"Woa! you brute. Back your tops'ls, won't you? I _never_ did see sitch
a craft for heavin' about like a Dutch lugger in a cross sea. She sails
side on, no matter where she's bound for. Forges ahead a'most entirely
by means of leeway, so to speak. Hallo! woa! Ketch a grip o' the
painter, Dick, an' hold on till I git off the hurricane deck o' this
walrus--else I'll be overboard in a--. There--" The captain came to the
ground suddenly as he spoke, without the use of stirrup, and, luckily,
without injury.
"Not hurt I hope?" asked Dick Darvall, assisting his brother-salt to
rise.
"Not a bit of it, Dick. You see I'm a'most as active as yourself though
double your age, if not more. I say, Charlie, this _is_ a pretty
look-out. Don't 'ee think so, Mr Crossley? I was sure that Hunky Ben
would find us a pleasant anchorage and safe holding-ground at last,
though it did seem as if we was pretty long o' comin' to it. Just as we
was leavin' the waggins to ride on in advance I said to my missus--says
I--Maggie, you may depend--"
"Hallo! Zook," cried Charlie, as the little man of the slums came
limping up, "what have you done with your horse?"
"Cast 'im loose, sir, an' gi'n 'im leave of absence as long as 'e
pleases. It's my opinion that some the 'osses o' the western prairies
ain't quite eekal to some o' the 'osses I've bin used to in Rotten Row.
Is this the place, Hunky? Well, now," continued the little man, with
flashing eyes, as he looked round on the magnificent scene, "it'll do.
Beats W'itechapel an' the Parks any 'ow. An' there's lots o' poultry
about, too!" he added, as a flock of wild ducks went by on whistling
wings. "I say, Hunky Ben, w'at's yon brown things over there by the
shores o' the lake?"
"Buffalo," answered the scout.
"What! wild uns?"
"There's no tame ones in them diggin's as I knows on. If there was,
they'd soon become wild, you bet."
"An' w'at's yon monster crawlin' over the farthest plain, like the great
sea-serpent?"
"Why, man," returned the scout, "them's the waggins. Come, now, let's
to work an' git the fire lit. The cart wi' the chuck an' tents'll be
here in a few minutes, an' the waggins won't be long arter 'em."
"Ay, wi' the women an' kids shoutin' for grub," added Zook, as he limped
after the scout, while the rest of the little band dispersed--some to
cut firewood, others to select the best positions for the tents. The
waggons, with a supply of food, arrived soon after under the care of
Roaring Bull himself, with two of his cowboys. They were followed by
Buttercup, who bestrode, man-fashion, a mustang nearly as black as
herself and even more frisky.
In a wonderfully short time a number of white tents arose on the plateau
and several fires blazed, and at all the fires Buttercup laboured with
superhuman effect, assisted by the cowboys, to the unbounded admiration
of Zook, who willingly superintended everything, but did little or
nothing. A flat rock on the highest point was chosen for the site of a
future block-house or citadel, and upon this was ere long spread a
breakfast on a magnificent scale. It was barely ready when the first
waggons arrived and commenced to lumber up the ascent, preceded by two
girls on horseback, who waved their hands, and gave vent to vigorous
little feminine cheers as they cantered up the slope.
These two were our old friends whom we knew as May Leather and Mary
Jackson, but who must now be re-introduced to the reader as Mrs Charlie
Brooke and Mrs Dick Darvall. On the same day they had changed their
names at the Ranch of Roaring Bull, and had come to essay wedded life in
the far west.
We need hardly say that this was the great experimental emigrant party,
led by the Reverend William Reeves, who had resolved to found a colony
on total abstinence principles, and with as many as possible of the sins
of civilisation left behind. They found, alas! that sin is not so
easily got rid of; nevertheless, the effort was not altogether
fruitless, and Mr Reeves carried with him a sovereign antidote for sin
in the shape of a godly spirit.
The party was a large one, for there were many men and women of the
frontier whose experiences had taught them that life was happier and
better in every way without the prevalent vices of gambling and
drinking.
Of course the emigrants formed rather a motley band. Among them,
besides those of our friends already mentioned, there were our hero's
mother and all the Leather family. Captain Stride's daughter as well as
his "Missus," and Mr Crossley's housekeeper, Mrs Bland. That good
woman, however, had been much subdued and rendered harmless by the
terrors of the wilderness, to which she had been recently exposed. Miss
Molloy was also there, with an enormous supply of knitting needles and
several bales of worsted.
Poor Shank Leather was still so much of an invalid as to be obliged to
travel in a spring cart with his father, but both men were rapidly
regaining physical strength under the influence of temperance, and
spiritual strength under a higher power.
Soon the hammer, axe, and saw began to resound in that lovely western
wilderness; the net to sweep its lakes; the hook to invade its rivers;
the rifle to crack in the forests, and the plough to open up its virgin
soil. In less time, almost, than a European would take to wink, the
town of Sweetwater Bluff sprang into being; stores and workshops, a
school and a church, grew, up like mushrooms; seed was sown, and
everything, in short, was done that is characteristic of the advent of a
thriving community. But not a gambling or drinking saloon, or a drop of
firewater, was to be found in all the town.
In spite of this, Indians brought their furs to it; trappers came to it
for supplies; emigrants turned aside to see and rest in it; and the
place soon became noted as a flourishing and pre-eminently peaceful
spot.