By the last of July the heat had become so intense that it was decided
to close the school until the cooler weather in the fall. The children
had made good progress, and as Miss Anderson had taken up a homestead
near by, her services for the winter months were assured. So it was
planned that when the school was closed she was to visit her home for a
few weeks, returning before the harvest season, and was to remain at the
Gully home until his return from harvest, after which she was to take up
her abode upon her own claim. This arrangement pleased Gully, as it
assured him that his family would not be alone during his absence.
The few remaining weeks before his departure Gully devoted to the
improvement of his house. Material for this purpose was obtained by his
having purchased a building erected upon a claim a short ways from his
own by Jack Norton, a young man, who having become discouraged, had
proposed to accompany Gully to the harvest fields and to use the
proceeds of the sale of the building, together with his earnings while
harvesting, to purchase a return ticket to the East, thereby abandoning
his claim.
The price paid by Gully for the material in the building was
insignificant, but added very materially to his unpretentious home when
reconstructed in connection with it, and assured him against the
recurrence of his experience of the winter before.
The conditions under which Travis Gully made his second trip to the
harvest fields were entirely different. Now he knew where he was going
and exactly what to expect upon his arrival. The horses he drove were
his own, and he reserved the right to have absolute control of them
during the entire trip. He had been requested by his former employer to
bring as nearly as possible the same crew as had come on the former
occasion. In this he was successful, with the exception of one of the
party who had become discouraged and left the country soon after the
passing of the severe blizzard of the winter before.
The iron molder, the pressman, and the professor were there, and as the
progress each had made on their homestead was fair, it was a more jovial
party that had left on this occasion. The start was made from the Gully
home, where the party had assembled the evening before, and instead of
the tear stained cheeks and pitiful sighs that had marked their first
departure from the well, there had been a happy gathering of all the
neighbors for miles around who had assembled at Travis Gully's home to
bid the harvesters farewell. This gathering was not only for those who
were going with the Gully party, but was for all the men of the
neighborhood who were going forth to replenish their funds ere the
winter came.
Each had brought their lunch basket, and the scene of the feast at the
Christmas tree was reenacted, only under more favorable circumstances
and on a much larger scale. The festivities continued until far into the
night. Rollicking games of blindman's buff and others of its like were
played out in the open under the brilliance of the huge, desert moon.
Young and old alike joined in the spirit of the games, and merry peals
of laughter proclaimed their evident enjoyment.
When the time came for the merry makers to go to their several homes,
and after the final good-byes had been said, those of the party who were
to remain overnight and start the following morning chose their sleeping
places, and unrolling their blankets, lay down and were soon lulled to
sleep by the sound of the distant singing and talking of the departing
guests which was wafted back by the cool night air for miles across the
silent desert. The sounds were broken at intervals by the sharp staccato
yap of the startled coyotes.
The following morning the men were all astir just at the break of day.
The horses were fed and harnessed and everything made ready for the
start. Ample lunch was put up to last the entire party until they
reached their destination, and when breakfast had been eaten the start
was made.
The sun had not yet appeared, but the jagged ridge of hills to the east
was plainly outlined, and Gully, now being thoroughly acquainted with
the lay of the country and not caring to lose time by making a long
detour to reach the main road, went directly across the plain to the gap
in the hills that he knew would afford him an exit.
Minnie Gully and the children, as well as their guest, Miss Anderson,
who had now returned from her visit home, were out to see them off. The
old dog was leaping frantically at the horses' heads as if he too
understood the importance of the occasion. His loud barking and frisky
capers caused little Joe to shriek with laughter, and amidst all this
din and shouting of good-byes they rolled away.
Jack Norton, who had remained at the Gully home from the time of the
sale of the building on his own claim until its removal and
reconstruction as a part of the Gully residence, was seated with Gully
on the driver's seat when the party started on their journey.
Knowing the road as the party now did, the trip was not nearly so
tiresome as on the former occasion. Time passed much more rapidly, and a
constant flow of conversation and quips and jokes were kept up by those
of the party except young Norton who, though usually full of life and
ordinarily a good companion, was on this occasion sullen and morose.
Travis Gully was quick to note this change in Norton's demeanor and
watched him closely to see if he could find its cause. Thinking perhaps
it was due to his disappointment at his failure at success as a
homesteader, he jibed him good-naturedly upon his giving up so easily.
Jack Norton turned, and taking one more long look at their starting
point, allowing his gaze to wander out across the desert and after a few
minutes pause answered Gully's remark by saying: "It might be that I
have not given up." Travis Gully, who rather liked the young fellow,
slapped him on the back and exclaimed: "That's the spirit. You might
take a notion to come back with us. Well, if you do, your claim will
still be safe. You know you have six months off." Jack Norton did not
reply to this. He evidently did not know or had not thought but what his
temporary absence from his claim would forfeit it. He sat silent for a
few moments, looked back in the direction from which they had come, and
remarked, "Looks good to me," and was noticeably more cheerful during
the remainder of the day.
The early morning start and favorable conditions enabled them to cover
the worst of their journey the first day, and the camp for the night was
made far up in the grand coulee, within a few miles of where they would
emerge upon the plateau where the grain fields began.
A small stream trickled down from the face of the bluff that formed the
east wall of the coulee. The spring from which it flowed was
inaccessable, so it was necessary to catch the water in pails as it
dripped from the rock ledge far above, for it disappeared as soon as it
reached the sandy bottom of the coulee.
Beautiful grasses grew at the bottom of the cliff, where the water
wasted away, and rare specimens of ferns adorned the face of the rock
over which it flowed, far above the reach of man. The place had been
noted by those of the party who were on the trip the fall before, and
the professor had expressed a desire to obtain some of the ferns for
specimens during their stay in the camp. Knowing that they had ample
time, as they were not due at their destination for two days, and that
they could reach it the following afternoon, they decided to remain in
camp the forenoon of the following day and rest their horses.
It was just before sundown when they went into camp, but knowing from
past experience that the twilight between those towering walls was
short, they hurriedly accumulated a sufficient quantity of sagebrush for
fuel during the night, and after placing their only water pail beneath
the drip of the trickling stream, awaited its filling for water with
which to make coffee.
After this was procured and the coffee set to boil, Travis Gully led his
horses to the patch of grass and allowed them to browse while the water
dripped into the pail, and as it filled he gave each horse in its turn a
drink. The evening shadows were slowly creeping upward and could be
clearly outlined upon the face of the cliff that formed the west wall of
the coulee. An occasional bird fluttered into one of the crevices that
marred the face of the cliff, seeking shelter for the night. The only
sound that disturbed the oppressive silence was that produced by the
horses cropping the succulent grass and the drip, drip of the water in
the pail.
The conversation at the camp fire had ceased. Gully noticing this
glanced toward the small group of men assembled there in search of the
cause; apparently there was none. The lunch box had been brought from
the wagon and stood open near the camp fire; the blanket rolls had been
thrown into a pile off to one side, and reclining against this, with his
back toward the fire, young Jack Norton sat and gazed wistfully down the
coulee. Gully noted the expression on the young man's face and wondered
at its seriousness. He had never questioned Norton as to his affairs,
and such knowledge as he had gained of the young man's life had been
volunteered by him.
That he was from the south, Texas he thought, and that he had left his
home the year before, when he had reached his twenty-first birthday. No
reference had ever been made by him as to his relatives or home. He had
come into the neighborhood where Gully met him with a party consisting
of several different families, none of whom had known or seen him until
he happened to drive out from the station with a number of prospective
settlers under the guidance of a real estate agent who had located the
majority of them.
His pleasing personality had won him much favor at the literary society,
where he took an active part. Being the possessor of a splendid voice
his singing was highly appreciated, and Travis Gully recalled the fact
that Miss Anderson, the school teacher, had at one time expressed the
opinion that his education was far above the average. Yet knowing as
little as he did, Gully's heart went out to the lonely young fellow, and
he attributed his failure as a homesteader to the lack of advice and
encouragement, so he determined, if the opportunity presented itself,
and it probably would on this trip, to speak to him and to try and
persuade him to remain on his claim and try again the following year.
Darkness had now fallen, and when additional fuel had been thrown onto
the dying embers of the camp fire and flared up, illuminating the
surroundings, Gully called to Jack Norton to come and lend a helping
hand with the horses and to another member of the party to get the pail
of water that had accumulated, after which he returned to the wagon, and
when his horses had been fed he joined the others at the fire.
No time was lost. After supper the blankets were spread and all were
soon sleeping soundly. Nothing disturbed their slumber. The prowling
coyote, scenting the remains of the supper on the cool night air, sent
up its mournful wail to the dim stars, and the flutter of birds wings,
as the owls routed them from their refuge in the rocks, were the only
sounds to be heard.
The campers were aroused the next morning by the restless pawing of the
horses who, realizing that they were in a strange locality, were anxious
for their feed, that they might be on the road. Travis Gully was
awakened by one of his companions calling to him and saying that he was
afraid something had gone wrong with the horses. Springing from beneath
his blankets, he hurried over to where they were tied, but could find no
cause for their nervous actions. He gave them their morning allowance of
hay and after they had quieted down and begun eating he returned to the
camp, and it being then broad daylight, he raked together the charred
ends of the partially burned sagebrush and started the fire. Calling to
his companions to "Roll out," he took the pail and started to catch some
water at the dripping spring; as he did so, he noticed that Jack Norton
was not in camp.
His neatly rolled blankets were laying at the point where he had chosen
to make his bed. Gully knew that he had slept there, for he had spoken
to him after going to bed. Thinking that he had probably gotten up early
and had strolled a little way from camp, he gave the matter no further
concern. Upon his return from getting the water his companions asked him
if he had seen Jack; replying that he had not, but that he had noticed
his absence and that he supposed he had gone for a walk, they passed the
matter by and proceeded with the preparation of the coffee for
breakfast.
No hurried preparations for their departure were made, as they intended
to remain in camp until noon. The sun was several hours high before its
rays reached the depth of the coulee, the walls of which cast their
shadows across its full width. It was a delightful place to camp and
while away a few idle hours. There were no trees or brush under which to
lie and enjoy the shade, and the only spot of green that gladdened the
eye was that of the grass at the foot of the cliff, but it was this very
novelty that made the location so fascinating. Laying prone upon their
backs they could gaze into the blue sky without being dazzled by the
brilliancy of the sun or having a thing to obstruct their view, like
viewing the heavens from the depth of a well without that same cramped
or crowded feeling.
After awaiting Jack Norton's return for a reasonable length of time
without his coming, breakfast was eaten, and the coffee pot replaced
near the fire that it might be kept warm. Travis Gully took the pail,
and leading two of his horses to the grassy spot, was allowing them to
graze while the bucket was being filled when someone called to him:
"Bring the horses up here, Mr. Gully; there is lots of water."
Recognizing the voice as that of young Norton, Gully tried to locate
him, but the resounding echoes along the coulee walls made it difficult
to catch the direction from which the call came. The professor, who had
strolled over near the cliff and was picking up and examining the pieces
of rock that had fallen from above, had also heard Jack Norton's call,
and knowing that it came from the coulee wall above, was searching the
face of the cliff in order to locate him.
Gully, seeing the professor's gaze centered on the cliff, knew at once
where the boy was and called to him to come down, lest he fall and get
hurt. To this Jack replied that he would soon be down, and as he moved
they could easily distinguish his form, a mere speck it seemed at that
dizzy height, flattened out with his back to the wall as he worked his
way cautiously along the slippery ledge over which the water flowed. His
hands were filled with ferns and plants, and he shouted jesting replies
to the anxious watchers as they called to him to be careful. After a few
moments he disappeared behind a jutting point; a few minutes later only
the top of his head could be seen protruding from a crevice; after a
half hour he came into camp, disheveled, tired and hungry, but all
excitement over his adventure.
He ate his breakfast while Travis Gully and the others each took their
turn at telling him of the dangers that lurked in those cliffs in the
way of loose boulders, hidden crevices and rattlesnakes. Gully expressed
himself in no uncertain terms about his leaving camp without first
having told them of his intention, and pictured to him the possibilities
of a fall or other accident that might have befallen him and they, not
knowing where he was, could render no assistance. Jack Norton submitted
gracefully to this scolding and explained that he had heard the
professor express a desire to obtain some of the specimens of ferns, and
as he too was interested in the geological formations of the coulee he
could not resist the temptation to explore the bluff.
He had left camp before daylight and gone down the coulee in search of a
place where he might scale the wall; after he had reached the ledge he
assured them it was no trouble to work back to the point where he was
discovered. His only regret was that he had caused them any uneasiness,
and that he did not have more time for his investigations, as the
locality afforded splendid opportunities for geological research.
He had brought back with him some beautiful specimens of rare ferns and
other plant life for the professor, and his pockets were bulging with
pieces of various kinds of stone with which, he told them, he proposed
to amuse himself later.
The professor was profuse in his thanks for the ferns, but expressed his
regret that he had taken such a chance in getting them for him, and all
the while his face beamed with his appreciation of the motive, the
desire of the student, that had prompted young Norton to explore the
coulee. He too could devote many happy days with these environments to
the gratification of this same desire.
The party resumed their journey immediately after the noon lunch was
eaten and camped that night at the home of the wheat grower for whom
they were going to work during the harvest season. When they entered the
harvest field two days later, to commence the season's run, it was the
same old scenes and endless days of toil and strain with which they had
contended on their former trip, and nothing occurred to break the
monotony.
The professor and Jack Norton became inseparable companions, and planned
many excursions together at some future time, when they proposed to
explore the coulee. The idea of abandoning his claim and returning to
the East was given up by Norton, and he talked incessantly of the
wonders of the coulee and the desert. Travis Gully smiled at the young
fellow's enthusiasm and encouraged him to renewed effort with promises
of assistance to construct another building on his claim and with such
other help as he might require.
The party of homesteaders were not worried by the thoughts of the
conditions at home as they had been during their first absence. They
wrote and received letters regularly, and in every instance the reports
received from their homes were most encouraging. Minnie Gully's letters
to her husband were filled with recitals of incidents that showed very
plainly that she was very much alive to his interests and had assumed
the management of affairs on the homestead during his absence with a
thoroughness of detail that was surprising. "I have bargained," she
wrote, "with a new neighbor for two pigs and a half dozen more
chickens," this neighbor having brought chickens and pigs into the newly
settled district without first having investigated the source of the
supply of feed for them, and was now compelled by its scarcity to sell
some of his stock. Gully's wife, seeing the opportunity, had traded some
wheat for the chickens and pigs, and as she wrote in her letter, had
"made the place look more like a farm." Miss Anderson, she continued,
"had proven herself a jewel. She did not see how she could get along
without her. She had taken complete charge of the children and was
teaching the girls to sew and cook, while she was leading a life of
ease." Travis Gully read her letters with an amused smile and wondered
at the change in her that had taken place. The constant flow of home
talk kept him from getting homesick. And so the harvest season was
passed, and when the morning came for the harvesters to return to their
homes each had planned his work for the coming winter and was eager to
begin.
Travis Gully was to see the realization of his dream of a well on his
claim and was anxious to reach home that he might complete arrangements
with the well drillers and have them begin work before the snow fell.