"Our father and mother were Irish, and left their own country to sittle
in America. We have never seen Ireland, my brother nor I, but we think
of it as almost our own land. Havin' been brought up in the woods, and
seein' a'most no one but father and mother for days an' weeks at a time,
we've got a good deal o' the Irish tone."
"Ah! thin, ye have reason to be thankful for that same," remarked Larry,
who was a little disappointed that his new friends were not altogether
Irish; but, after a few minutes' consideration, he came to the
conclusion, that people whose father and mother were natives of the
Emerald Isle could no more be Americans, simply because they happened to
be born in America, than they could be fish if they chanced to be born
at sea. Having settled this point to his satisfaction, he proceeded to
question the girl as to their past history and the cause of their
present sad condition, and gradually obtained from her the information
that their father and mother were dead, and that, having heard of the
mines of California, her brother had sold off his farm in the backwoods,
and proceeded by the overland route to the new land of gold, in company
with many other western hunters and farmers. They reached it, after the
most inconceivable sufferings, in the beginning of winter, and took up
their abode at Little Creek.
The rush of emigration from the western states to California, by the
overland route, that took place at this time, was attended with the most
appalling sufferings and loss of life. Men sold off their snug farms,
packed their heavy waggons with the necessaries for a journey, with
their wives and little ones, over a wilderness more than two thousand
miles in extent, and set off by scores over the prairies towards the
Ultima Thule of the far west. The first part of their journey was
prosperous enough, but the weight of their waggons rendered the pace
slow, and it was late in the season ere they reached the great barrier
of the Rocky Mountains. But severe although the sufferings of those
first emigrants were, they were as nothing compared with the dire
calamities that befell those who started from home later in the season.
All along the route the herbage was cropped bare by those who had gone
before; their oxen broke down; burning sandy deserts presented
themselves when the wretched travellers were well-nigh exhausted; and
when at length they succeeded in reaching the great mountain-chain, its
dark passes were filled with the ice and snow of early winter.
Hundreds of men, women, and children, fell down and died on the burning
plain, or clambered up the rugged heights to pillow their dying heads at
last on wreaths of snow. To add to the unheard-of miseries of these
poor people, scurvy in its worst forms attacked them; and the air of
many of their camping places was heavy with the stench arising from the
dead bodies of men and animals that had perished by the way.
"It was late in the season," said Kate Morgan, as Larry's new friend was
named, "when me brother Patrick an' I set off with our waggon and oxen,
an' my little sister Nelly, who was just able to run about, with her
curly yellow hair streamin' over her purty shoulders, an' her laughin'
blue eyes, almost spakin' when they looked at ye."
The poor girl spoke with deep pathos as she mentioned Nelly's name,
while Larry O'Neil sat with his hands clasped, gazing at her with an
expression of the deepest commiseration.
"We got pretty well on at first," she continued, after a pause, "because
our waggon was lighter than most o' the others; but it was near winter
before we got to the mountains, an' then our troubles begood. First of
all, one o' the oxen fell, and broke its leg. Then darlin' Nelly fell
sick, and Patrick had to carry her on his back up the mountains, for I
had got so weak meself that I wasn't fit to take her up. All the way
over I was troubled with one o' the emigrants that kep' us company--
there was thirty o' us altogether--he was a very bad man, and none o' us
liked him. He took a fancy to me, an' asked me to be his wife so often
that I had to make Patrick order him to kape away from us altogether.
He wint off in a black rage, swearin' he'd be revenged,--an' oh!"
continued Kate, wringing her hands, "he kept his word. One day there
was a dispute between our leaders which way we should go, for we had got
to two passes in the mountains; so one party went one way, and we went
another. Through the night, my--my lover came into our camp to wish me
good-bye, he said, for the last time, as he was goin' with the other
party. After he was gone, I missed Nelly, and went out to seek for her
among the tents o' my neighbours, but she was nowhere to be found. At
once I guessed he had taken her away, for well did he know I would
sooner have lost my life than my own darlin' Nell."