BY PYE POD.
"Why, Toby's nought but a mongrel; there's nought to look at
in her." But I says to him, "Why, what are you yoursen but a
mongrel? There wasn't much pickin' o' YOUR feyther an' mother,
to look at you." Not but what I like a bit o' breed myself, but
I can't abide to see one cur grinnin' at another.--_Mill on the
Floss._
The good old black mammy, who made my acquaintance on the street,
called upon me at the hotel to present me with a little dog. I
thanked her, and told her that one dog was all I could take care
of; whereupon she argued that I should visit the Indian
Reservation at Tama City, and if I presented a dog to the Chief
that I would be royally received. A good idea; I wondered it had
not occurred to me. I accepted the dog.
An hour later I came near being arrested for promoting a dog fight
in defiance of the law. Don was generous, however, and left a
little of the cur for the Indian Chief, but next morning the sight
of a bandaged and plastered dog being dragged behind my outfit was
gruesome indeed.
This is how I managed the dogs. I chained Don to one end of an
eight-foot pole, and the mongrel to the other, so that the dogs
could not get closer than four feet. Then I chained Don to the
saddle-horn.
I hoped to reach the town of DeWitt before dark. Everything went
smoothly and I was congratulating myself on getting out of the
city without a mishap, when, suddenly, both dogs leaped to the
opposite side of my donkey in the effort to reach a cat basking
in the sun. The pole yoke caught Mac's hind legs and upset us,
almost causing a runaway. This and other incidents delayed me many
hours. On arriving at the village tavern, "The Farmers' Home," I
was agreeably surprised to find the landlord not so much out of
spirits as I. A "night cap," then to bed.
Next day I rode sixteen miles, through the beautiful farming
country to Wheatland. Nature was arrayed in Sabbath attire, and no
sermon could have inpressed me more than the pure, sweet voicings
of God's creation. Graceful turtle-doves, always in pairs, flitted
in mid-air; bevies of quail whistled in the meadows and ditches;
flying-squirrels, half winged, half jumped from tree to tree; and
coy Norwegian girls scampered indoors as my "mountain canaries"
now and then joined in a carol.
Just before entering town a gay cotton-tail rabbit shied at my
pistol ball, allowing the ball to graze a calf grazing in the
field beyond, to wing a pigeon on a barn further on, and
eventually to announce my advent to the towns-folk in a most
singular manner.
When I arrived, the church bell was faintly tolling, and a crowd
of people were staring wild-eyed at the belfry tower. I inquired
of a countryman what was up.
"Blamed if I know," said the sexton; "I was jest settin' down to
feed, when sudden I heard a sharp clang of the church bell.
Sounded like it was hit with a hammer. Whole hour before church,
and the doors are locked. Now I'd like to know what sot that bell
to chantin'."
"Go up and find out," I said.
"Not on yer life," he replied. "You may think us folks
superstitious--well, we are. Lots of queer things happen in this
town."
When I reached the privacy of my room, I did a good deal of
thinking; but whichever way I reasoned I arrived at one
conclusion. My pistol ball must have struck the bell after calling
on the calf and the pigeon. It was merely a chant's shot.
The landlord of the Siegmund Hotel did not venture close enough to
shake hands.
"Doos them dogs bite--yes?" he asked from the veranda.
"No," I answered, "they won't bite you and me, but they are very
fond of each other."
Don looked up at me appealingly, as if he thought he had been
persecuted. When the donkeys and the mongrel were in the barn, I
turned Don loose. He was tickled, and ran round the barn three
times, jumped over the hen-coop, upset the landlord, and then
chased the house cat so that it climbed to the top of the hotel
chimney. Most extraordinary dog; no common pastime satisfied him.
The hilly country I was now entering made it necessary for me to
walk half the time, as a precaution against wearing out my
animals. But the air was sweet with lilac, tulip, violet and apple
blossoms; blue and red and yellow birds serenaded me as I passed,
all making me feel somewhat repaid for my winter hardships.
The main street of Mechanicsville was beautifully shaded, and
along the road-side was a tempting pasture for ruminating animals.
As I rode along and admired the scenes, I recalled a sentence from
the Scriptures: "Whatsoever cheweth the cud that shall ye eat." To
the right, in the cool shade, reclined a gentle-eyed cow, chewing
her cud; to the left, at the base of a magnificent tree, sat a
pretty bloomer girl beside her bicycle, also chewing. I was
puzzled.
On reaching Mount Vernon, I discovered, after diligent inquiries,
that Washington had never been there, dead or alive. Cornell
College, for boys and girls, distinguishes the place as a seat of
learning, and the students showed an abnormal appetite for
knowledge by purchasing my books and photos. A few miles west I
crossed a ridge of wooded hills, descended into a lovely vale,
crossed Cedar River, and drew rein at Bertram, a mountain town
consisting of a railroad station, side track, tavern, store, and
two to three houses.
From Bertram we mounted another and still higher ridge, from the
summit of which I could see the great verdant valley, and, winding
about it, a spiral cloud of smoke from the busy city of Cedar
Rapids, where I arrived at six o'clock.
That evening, after a lapse of nine years, I met my old friend,
Steve D----, who once had tramped Switzerland with me. After I had
explained the cause of my unique pilgrimage and each had given an
account of himself, he planned for me a pleasant two days'
sojourn, and suggested it was time I had a useful traveling
companion. As I moved westward, the towns would be farther apart
and I would have to camp often on the highway. The services of an
able and trusty man would save me much time. Steve said he would
try to find him.
Cedar Rapids contains some of the largest oatmeal factories in the
country. I met through my friend several pleasant people, dined
with his family, and was tendered a spread at the Grand Hotel, to
which a few of his friends were invited. Meanwhile I found the man
I was looking for.
He was about twenty, had been night porter in a hotel, and was
well recommended. Twice I refused him because of his apparent
inexperience in "roughing it," but I was won over by his
persistence at the third call. He said his name was "Coonskin,"
and Wisconsin the State of his nativity. His attainments were
something extraordinary. He could sling a Saratoga trunk into a
first story window; had painted the highest church steeples, and
broken the wildest horses; could skin all kinds of game, and, with
equal facility, could "skin the cat;" in fact, he had made an
enviable record in athletics, and had won several championships
for sprints. He could swim like a frog, and, as for shooting, his
comrades couldn't touch him with any kind of a gun. He was never
ill, and had stood all kinds of exposures from hanging all night
on a church steeple after his ladder had fallen, to riding on the
trucks of a baggage car, as the result of the disbanding of a
theatre troupe.
This Coonskin was a wonderful combination of resources; he was the
very man I wanted. He wished to go with me for fun and experience,
and was perfectly satisfied if I would defray his expenses. I took
Coonskin at once to make the acquaintance of Mac, Cheese, Don, and
the mongrel, and to be assigned to his duties.
At nine o'clock the morning of our departure, he called at the
hotel with a small bundle done up in a red handkerchief, and
wearing a new pair of shoes.
"What have you in that bundle?" I asked.
"Everything."
"Extra suit of clothes?"
"Yep--and patches for emergency."
"Extra shoes already broken to your feet?"
"Yep--and chloride-of-lime and extra socks."
"Brush and comb and tooth brush?"
"Yep--and corn plasters and curry-comb."
"Extra suit of underwear and handkerchiefs?"
"Yep. Pajandrums, too."
I smiled in astonishment, so small was the bundle. "Well done,"
said I, "after this you shall do all my packing."
I was gratified to note Coonskin's quick perception, his alertness
to obey, and his capacity for memorizing. He did not have to be
told a thing more than three times before understanding it, and
his lively interest in my welfare manifested itself at the start.
When I went to the stable at eleven o'clock, I found he had added
to my itinerant kennel a bull terrier, which took to Don as fondly
as Don had taken to the mongrel. I remonstrated.
"The more dogs you offer the Indian Chief, the bigger time he will
give you," said my valet. "Better keep the terrier; I'll preserve
harmony."
Glad to shift some of my responsibilities to the broad shoulders
of this young genius, I returned to the hotel and dressed for
luncheon.
You may imagine how my heart was set aflutter when luncheon over,
my valet rapped on the door and, venturing a foot in the room,
said, with the courtliness of a Sancho Panza, "Your highness'
donkeys and dogs are at the door."
My guests were as much amused as I, and accompanied me to the
street, where a crowd had assembled. I shall never forget the
expression on my old friend's face when he saw the dogs yoked
together. A second pole had been brought into use, and, Don and
the mongrel having become reconciled, the bull terrier was made a
sort of pivot round which revolved the other two, a mean dog
between two extremes.
Coonskin said at first he had made the little mongrel act as the
pivotal dog, but he had no sooner left the animals than Don and
Towser swung round and clinched in pugilistic style, and, had it
not been for the efficacy of the stable hose, with all hands at
the pump, the mongrel would have soon been converted into sausage.
It was nineteen miles to the village of Norway; we did not arrive
there till eleven at night. Once or twice on the way Coonskin was
prevailed upon to relieve me in the saddle for a couple of miles;
but although his new shoes were paining him, as I could see from
his gait, he was too "game" to admit it, and whenever I asked him
to ride, protested that walking wasn't a circumstance with him. He
would rather walk than eat.
We found Norway asleep. After assisting Coonskin to stable the
donks and secure the dogs, I perused a newspaper while my young
neophyte went out to smoke. When he limped in, I noticed his coat
pocket bulged with something he would conceal. I did not question
him. But before retiring, I opened his door to give him orders for
the morrow, and found him dressing his feet with Indian ointment,
which he admitted he had procured from the village druggist. He
had with difficulty aroused the man from slumber, in consequence
of which he was made to pay double price for his cure. Coonskin
was somewhat embarrassed, but I praised his pluck in glowing
terms, and put him at ease. Next day he was ready to take advice,
by wearing his old shoes and riding most of the journey.