time a-grindin', and part the time a-lookin' after the sawin', and
gittin' out timber and the like. Bills was a queer-lookin' feller,
shore! About as tall a build man as Tom Carter--but of course you don't
know nothin' o' Tom Carter. A great big hulk of a feller, Tom was; and
as fur back as Fifty-eight used to make his brags that he could cut and
putt up his seven cord a day.
Well, what give Bills this queer look, as I was a-goin' on to say, was
a great big ugly scar a-runnin' from the corner o' one eye clean down
his face and neck, and I don't know how fur down his breast--awful
lookin'; and he never shaved, and there wasn't a hair a-growin' in that
scar, and it looked like a--some kind o' pizen snake er somepin'
a-crawlin' in the grass and weeds. I never seed sich a' out-and-out
ornry-lookin' chap, and I'll never fergit the first time I set eyes on
him.
Steve and me--Steve was my youngest brother; Steve's be'n in Californy
now fer, le' me see,--well, anyways, I rickon, over thirty year.--Steve
was a-drivin' the team at the time--I allus let Steve drive; 'peared
like Steve was made a-purpose fer hosses. The beatin'est hand with
hosses 'at ever you _did_ see and-I-know! W'y, a hoss, after he got
kindo' used to Steve a-handlin' of him, would do anything fer _him_!
And I've knowed that boy to swap fer hosses 'at couldn't hardly make a
shadder; and, afore you knowed it, Steve would have 'em a-cavortin'
around a-lookin' as peert and fat and slick!
Well, we'd come over to Ezry's fer some grindin' that day; and Steve
wanted to price some lumber fer a house, intendin' to marry that
Fall--and would a-married, I reckon, ef the girl hadn't a-died jist as
she'd got her weddin' clothes done--and that set hard on Steve fer a
while. Yit he rallied, you know, as a youngster will; but he never
married, someway--never married. Reckon he never found no other woman
he could love well enough--'less it was--well, no odds.--The Good
Bein's jedge o' what's best fer each and all.
We lived _then_ about eight mil'd from Ezry's, and it tuck about a day
to make the trip; so you kin kindo' git an idy o' how the roads was in
them days.
Well, on the way over I noticed Steve was mighty quiet-like, but I
didn't think nothin' of it, tel at last he says, says he, "Ben, I want
you to kindo' keep an eye out fer Ezry's new hand"--meanin' Bills. And
then I kindo' suspicioned somepin' o' nother was up betwixt 'em; and
shore enough there was, as I found out afore the day was over.
I knowed 'at Bills was a mean sort of a man, from what I'd heerd. His
name was all over the neighberhood afore he'd be'n here two weeks.
In the first place, he come in a suspicious sorto' way: Him and his
wife, and a little baby on'y a few months old, come through in a
kivvered wagon with a fambly a-goin' som'ers in The Illinoy; and they
stopped at the mill, fer some meal er somepin', and Bills got to
talkin' with Ezry 'bout millin', and one thing o' nother, and said he
was expeerenced some 'bout a mill hisse'f, and told Ezry ef he'd give
him work he'd stop; said his wife and baby wasn't strong enough to
stand trav'lin', and ef Ezry'd give him work he was ready to lick into
it then and there; said his woman could pay her board by sewin' and the
like, tel they got ahead a little; and then, ef he liked the
neighberhood, he said he'd as lif settle there as anywheres; he was
huntin' a home, he said, and the outlook kindo' struck him, and his
woman railly needed rest, and wasn't strong enough to go much furder.
And old Ezry kindo' tuk pity on the feller; and havin' house-room to
spare, and railly in need of a good hand at the mill, he said all
right; and so the feller stopped and the wagon druv ahead and left 'em;
and they didn't have no things ner nothin'--not even a cyarpet-satchel,
ner a stitch o' clothes, on'y what they had on their backs. And I think
it was the third er fourth day after Bills stopped 'at he whirped Tomps
Burk, the bully o' here them days, tel you wouldn't a-knowed him!
Well, I'd heerd o' this, and the facts is I'd made up my mind 'at Bills
was a bad stick, and the place wasn't none the better fer his bein'
here. But, as I was a-goin' on to say,--as Steve and me driv up to the
mill, I ketched sight o' Bills the first thing, a-lookin' out o' where
some boards was knocked off, jist over the worter-wheel; and he knowed
Steve--I could see that by his face; and he hollered somepin', too, but
what it was I couldn't jist make out, fer the noise o' the wheel; but
he looked to me as ef he'd hollered somepin' mean a-purpose so's Steve
_wouldn't_ hear it, and _he'd_ have the consolation o' knowin' 'at he'd
called Steve some ornry name 'thout givin' him a _chance_ to take it
up. Steve was allus quiet-like, but ef you raised his dander onc't--and
you could do that 'thout much trouble, callin' him names er somepin',
particular' anything 'bout his mother. Steve loved his mother--allus
loved his mother, and would fight fer her at the drap o' the hat. And
he was her favo-_rite_--allus a-talkin' o' "her boy, Steven," as she
used to call him, and so proud of him, and so keerful of him allus,
when he'd be sick or anything; nuss him like a baby, she would.
So when Bills hollered, Steve didn't pay no attention; and _I_ said
nothin', o' course, and didn't let on like I noticed him. So we druv
round to the south side and hitched; and Steve 'lowed he'd better feed;
so I left him with the hosses and went into the mill.
They was jist a-stoppin' fer dinner. Most of 'em brought ther
dinners--lived so fur away, you know. The two Smith boys lived on what
used to be the old Warrick farm, five er six mild, anyhow, from where
the mill stood. Great stout fellers, they was; and little Jake, the
father of 'em, wasn't no man at all--not much bigger'n you, I rickon.
Le' me see, now:--There was Tomps Burk, Wade Elwood, and Joe and Ben
Carter; and Wesley Morris, John Coke--wiry little cuss, he was, afore
he got his leg sawed off;--and Ezry, and--Well, I don't jist mind _all_
the boys--'s a long time ago, and I never was much of a hand fer
names.--Now, some folks'll hear a name and never fergit it, but I can't
boast of a good rickollection, 'specially o' names; and fer the last
thirty year my mem'ry's be'n a-failin' me, ever sence a spell o' fever
'at I brought on onc't--fever and rheumatiz together:--You see, I went
a-sainin' with a passel o' the boys, fool-like, and let my clothes
freeze on me a-comin' home. W'y, my breeches was like stove-pipes when
I pulled 'em off. 'Ll, ef I didn't pay fer _that_ spree! Rheumatiz got
a holt o' me and helt me there flat o' my back fer eight weeks, and
couldn't move hand er foot 'thout a-hollerin' like a' Injun. And I'd
a-be'n there yit, I rickon, ef it hadn't a-be'n fer a' old hoss-doctor,
name o' Jones; and he gits a lot o' sod and steeps it in hot whiskey
and pops it on me,--and I'll be-switched-to-death ef it didn't cuore me
up, fer all I laughed and told him I'd better take the whiskey
in'ardly and let him keep the grass fer his doctor bill. But that's
nuther here ner there!--As I was a-sayin' 'bout the mill: As I went in,
the boys had stopped work and was a-gittin' down their dinners, and
Bills amongst 'em, and old Ezry a-chattin' away--great hand, he was,
fer his joke, and allus a-cuttin' up and a-gittin' off his
odd-come-shorts on the boys. And that day he was in particular good
humor. He'd brought some liquor down fer the boys, and he'd be'n
drinkin' a little hisse'f, enough to feel it. He didn't drink
much--that is to say, he didn't git drunk adzactly; but he tuk his
dram, you understand. You see, they made their own whiskey in them
days, and it wasn't nothin' like the bilin' stuff you git now. Old Ezry
had a little still, and allus made his own whiskey, enough fer fambly
use, and jist as puore as worter, and as harmless. But now-a-days the
liquor you git's rank pizen. They say they putt tobacker in it, and
strychnine, and the Lord knows what; ner I never knowed why, 'less it
was to give it a richer-lookin' flavor, like. Well, Ezry he'd brought
up a jug, and the boys had be'n a-takin' it purty free; I seed that as
quick as I went in. And old Ezry called out to _me_ to come and take
some, the first thing. Told him I didn't b'lieve I keered about it; but
nothin' would do but I must take a drink with the boys; and I was tired
anyhow and I thought a little wouldn't hurt; so I takes a swig; and as
I set the jug down _Bills_ spoke up and says, "You're a stranger to me,
and I'm a stranger to you, but I rickon we can drink to our better
acquaintance,"--er somepin' to that amount, and poured out another
snifter in a gourd he'd be'n a-drinkin' coffee in, and handed it to me.
Well, I couldn't well refuse, of course; so I says "Here's to us," and
drunk her down--mighty nigh a half pint, I rickon. Now, I railly didn't
want it, but, as I tell you, I was obleeged to take it, and I downed
her at a swaller and never batted an eye, fer, to tell the fact about
it, I liked the taste o' liquor; and I do _yit_, on'y I know when I'
got enough. Jist then I didn't want to drink on account o' Steve. Steve
couldn't abide liquor in no shape ner form--fer medicine ner nothin',
and I've allus thought it was his mother's doin's.
Now, a few months afore this I'd be'n to Vincennes, and I was jist
a-tellin' Ezry what they was a-astin' fer their liquor there--fer I'd
fetched a couple o' gallon home with me 'at I'd paid six bits fer, and
pore liquor at that: And I was a-tellin' about it, and old Ezry was
a-sayin' what an oudacious figger that was, and how he could make money
a-sellin' it fer half that price, and was a-goin' on a-braggin' about
his liquor--and it was a good article--fer new whiskey,--and jist then
Steve comes in, jist as Bills was a-sayin' 'at a man 'at wouldn't drink
_that_ whiskey wasn't no man at all! So, of course, when they ast
_Steve_ to take some and he told 'em no, 'at he was much obleeged,
Bills was kindo' tuk down, you understand, and had to say somepin'; and
says he, "I reckon you ain't no better'n the rest of us, and _we've_
be'n a-drinkin' of it." But Steve didn't let on like he noticed Bills
at all, and retch and shuk hands with the other boys and ast how they
was all a-comin' on.
I seed Bills was riled, and more'n likely wanted trouble; and shore
enough, he went on to say, kindo snarlin'-like, 'at "he'd knowed o' men
in his day 'at had be'n licked fer refusin' to drink when their betters
ast em"; and said furder 'at "a lickin' wasn't none too good fer
anybody 'at would refuse liquor like that o' Ezry's, and in his own
house too"--er _buildin'_, ruther. Ezry shuk his head at him, but I
seed 'at Bills was bound fer a quarrel, and I winks at Steve, as much
as to say, "Don't you let him bully you; you'll find your brother here
to see you have fair play!" _I_ was a-feelin' my oats some about then,
and Steve seed I was, and looked so sorry-like, and like his mother,
'at I jist thought, "I _kin_ fight fer _you_, and _die_ fer you, 'cause
you're wuth it!"--And I didn't someway feel like it would amount to
much ef I _did_ die er git killed er somepin' on _his_ account. I seed
Steve was mighty white around the mouth, and his eyes was a-glitterin'
like a snake's; yit Bills didn't seem to take warnin', but went on to
say 'at "he'd knowed boys 'at loved their mothers so well they couldn't
drink nothin' stronger'n milk."--And then you'd ort o' seed Steve's
coat fly off, jist like it wanted to git out of his way and give the
boy room accordin' to his stren'th. I seed Bills grab a piece o'
scantlin' jist in time to ketch his arm as he struck at Steve,--for
Steve was a-comin' fer him dangerss. But they'd ketched Steve from
behind jist then; and Bills turned fer me. I seed him draw back, and I
seed Steve a-scufflin' to ketch his arm; but he didn't reach it quite
in time to do me no good. It must a-come awful suddent. The first I
rickollect was a roarin' and a buzzin' in my ears, and when I kindo'
come a little better to, and crawled up and peeked over the saw-log I
was a-layin' the other side of, I seed a couple clinched and a-rollin'
over and over and a-makin' the chips and saw-dust fly, now I _tell_
you! Bills and Steve it was--head and tail, tooth and toe-nail, and
a-bleedin' like good fellers! I seed a gash o' some kind in Bills's
head, and Steve was purty well tuckered and a-pantin' like a lizard;
and I made a rush in, and one o' the Carter boys grabbed me and told me
to jist keep cool--'at _Steve_ didn't need no he'p, and they might need
me to keep Bills's friends off ef _they_ made a rush. By this time
Steve had whirlt Bills, and was a-jist a-gittin' in a fair way to
finish him up in good style, when Wesley Morris run in--I seed him do
it--run in, and afore we could ketch him he struck Steve a deadener in
the butt o' the ear and knocked him as limber as a rag. And then Bills
whirlt Steve and got him by the th'oat, and Ben Carter and me and old
Ezry closed in.--Carter tackled Morris, and Ezry and me grabs
Bills--and as old Ezry grabbed him to pull him off, Bills kindo' give
him a side swipe o' some kind and knocked him--I don't know _how_ fur!
And jist then Carter and Morris come a-scufflin' back'ards right
amongst us, and Carter th'owed him right acrost Bills and Steve. Well,
it ain't fair, and I don't like to tell it, but I seed it was the last
chance and I tuk advantage of it:--As Wesley and Ben fell it pulled
Bills down in a kindo' twist, don't you understand, so's he couldn't
he'p hisse'f, yit still a-clinchin' Steve by the th'oat, and him black
in the face.--Well, as they fell I grabbed up a little hick'ry limb,
not bigger'n my two thumbs, and I struck Bills a little tap kindo' over
the back of his head like, and, blame me! ef he didn't keel over like a
stuck pig--and not any too soon, nuther,--fer he had Steve's chunk as
nigh putt out as you ever seed a man's, to come to agin. But he was up
th'reckly and ready to a-went at it ef Bills could a-come to the
scratch; but Mister Bills he wasn't in no fix to try it over! After
a-waitin' a while fer him to come to, and him not a-comin' to, we
concluded 'at we'd better he'p him, maybe. And we worked with him, and
warshed him, and drenched him with whiskey, but it 'peared like it
wasn't no use.--He jist laid there with his eyes about half shet, and
a-breathin' like a hoss when he's bad sceart; and I'll be dad-limbed ef
I don't believe he'd a-_died_ on our hands ef it hadn't a-happened old
Doc Zions come a-ridin' past on his way home from the Murdock
neighberhood, where they was a-havin' sich a time with the milk-sick.
And he examined Bills, and had him laid on a plank and carried down to
the house--'bout a mil'd, I reckon, from the mill. Looked kindo'
cur'ous to see Steve a-he'ppin' pack the feller, after his nearly
chokin' him to death. Oh, it was a bloody fight, I tell you! W'y, they
wasn't a man in the mill 'at didn't have a black eye er somepin'; and
old Ezry, where Bills hit him, had his nose broke, and was as bloody as
a butcher. And you'd ort a-seed the women-folks when our p'session come
a-bringin' Bills in. I never seed anybody take on like Bills's
woman.--It was distressin'; it was, indeed.--Went into hysterics, she
did; and we thought fer a while she'd gone plum crazy, fer she cried so
pitiful over him, and called him "Charley! Charley!" 'stid of his
right name, and went on, clean out of her head, tel she finally jist
fainted clean away.
Fer three weeks Bills laid betwixt life and death, and that woman set
by him night and day, and tended him as patient as a' angel--and she
_was_ a' angel, too; and he'd a-never lived to bother nobody agin ef it
hadn't a-be'n fer Annie, as he called her. Zions said there was a
'brazure of the--some kind o' p'tuber'nce, and ef he'd a-be'n struck
jist a quarter of a' inch below--jist a quarter of a' inch--he'd a be'n
a dead man. And I've sence wished--not 'at I want the life of a human
bein' to account fer--on'y,--well, no odds--I've sence wished 'at I
_had_ a-hit him jist a quarter of a' inch below!
Well, of course, them days they wasn't no law o' no account, and
nothin' was ever done about it. So Steve and me got our grindin', and
talked the matter over with Ezry and the boys. Ezry said he was a-goin'
to do all he could fer Bills, 'cause he was a good hand, and when he
wasn't drinkin' they wasn't no peaceabler man in the Settlement. I
kindo' suspicioned what was up, but I said nothin' then. And Ezry said
furder, as we was about drivin' off, that Bills was a despert feller,
and it was best to kindo' humor him a little. "And you must kindo' be
on you guard," he says, "and I'll watch him, and ef anything happens
'at I git wind of I'll let you know," he says; and so we putt out fer
home.
Mother tuk on awful about it. You see, she thought she'd be'n the whole
blame of it, 'cause the Sunday afore that her and Steve had went to
meetin', and they got there late, and the house was crowded, and Steve
had ast Bills to give up his seat to Mother, and he wouldn't do it, and
said somepin' 'at disturbed the prayin', and the preacher prayed 'at
the feller 'at was a-makin' the disturbance might be forgive'; and that
riled Bills so he got up and left, and hung around till it broke up,
so's he could git a chance at Steve to pick a fight. And he did _try_
it, and dared Steve and double-dared him fer a fight, but Mother begged
so hard 'at she kep' him out of it. Steve said 'at he'd a-told me all
about it on the way to Ezry's on'y he'd promised Mother, you know, not
to say nothin' to me.
* * * * *
Ezry was over at our house about six weeks after the fight, appearantly
as happy as you please. We ast him how him and Bills was a-makin' it,
and he said firstrate; said 'at Bills was jist a-doin' splendid; said
he'd got moved in his new house 'at he'd fixed up fer him, and
ever'thing was a-goin' on as smooth as could be; and Bills and the boys
was on better terms'n ever; and says he, "As fur as you and Steve's
concerned, Bills don't 'pear to bear you no ill feelin's, and says as
fur as he's concerned the thing's settled." "Well," says I, "Ezry, I
hope so; but I can't he'p but think they's somepin' at the bottom of
all this"; and says I, "I don't think it's in Bills to ever amount to
anything good"; and says I, "It's my opinion they's a dog in the well,
and now you mark it!"
Well, he said he _wasn't_ jist easy, but maybe he'd come out all right;
said he couldn't turn the feller off--he hadn't the heart to do that,
with that-air pore, dilicate woman o' his, and the baby. And then he
went on to tell what a smart sorto' woman Bills's wife was,--one of the
nicest little women he'd ever laid eyes on, said she was; said she was
the kindest thing, and the sweetest-tempered, and all--and the handiest
woman 'bout the house, and 'bout sewin', and cookin', and the like,
and all kinds o' housework; and so good to the childern, and all; and
how they all got along so well; and how proud she was of her baby, and
allus a-goin' on about it and a-cryin' over it and a-carryin' on, and
wouldn't leave it out of her sight a minute. And Ezry said 'at she
could write so purty, and made sich purty pictur's fer the childern;
and how they all liked her better'n their own mother. And, sence she'd
moved, he said it seemed so lonesome-like 'thout _her_ about the
house--like they'd lost one o' their own fambly; said they didn't git
to see her much now, on'y sometimes, when her man would be at work,
she'd run over fer a while, and kiss all the childern and women-folks
about the place,--the greatest hand fer the childern, she was; tell 'em
all sorts o' little stories, you know, and sing fer 'em; said 'at she
could sing so sweet-like, 'at time and time agin she'd break clean down
in some song o' nother, and her voice would trimble so mournful-like
'at you'd find yourse'f a-cryin' afore you knowed it. And she used to
coax Ezry's woman to let her take the childern home with her; and they
used to allus want to go, tel Bills come onc't while they was there,
and they said he got to jawin' her fer a-makin' some to-do over the
baby, and swore at her and tuk it away from her and whirped it fer
cryin', and _she_ cried and told him to whirp her and not little Annie,
and he said that was jist what he _was_ a-doin'. And the childern was
allus afeard to go there any more after that--'feard he'd come home and
whirp little Annie agin. Ezry said he jist done that to skeer 'em
away--'cause he didn't want a passel o' childern a-whoopin' and
a-howlin' and a-trackin' round the house all the time.
But, shore enough, Bills, after the fight, 'peared like he'd settled
down, and went 'bout his business so stiddy-like, and worked so well,
the neighbers begin to think he was all right after all, and railly
_some_ got to _likin'_ him. But fer _me_,--well, I was a leetle slow to
argy 'at the feller wasn't "a-possumin'." But the next time I went over
to the mill--and Steve went with me--old Ezry come and met us, and said
'at Bills didn't have no hard feelin's ef _we_ didn't and 'at he wanted
us to fergive him; said 'at Bills wanted him to tell us 'at he was
sorry the way he'd acted, and wanted us to fergive him. Well, I looked
at Ezry, and we both looked at him, jist perfectly tuk back--the idee
o' Bills a-wantin' anybody to _fergive him_! And says I, "Ezry, what in
the name o' common sense do you mean?" And says he, "I mean jist what I
say; Bills jined meetin' last night and had 'em all a-prayin' fer him;
and we all had _a glorious time_," says old Ezry; "and his woman was
there and jined, too, and prayed and shouted and tuk on to beat all;
and Bills got up and spoke and give in his experience, and said he'd
be'n a bad man, but, glory to God, them times was past and gone; said
'at he wanted all of 'em to pray fer him, and he wanted to prove
faithful, and wanted all his inemies to fergive him; and prayed 'at you
and Steve and your folks would fergive him, and ever'body 'at he ever
wronged anyway." And old Ezry was a-goin' on, and his eyes a-sparklin',
and a-rubbin' his hands, he was so excited and tickled over it, 'at
Steve and me we jist stood there a-gawkin' like, tel Bills hisse'f come
up and retch out one hand to Steve and one to me; and Steve shuk with
him kindo' oneasy-like, and I--well, sir, I never felt cur'oser in my
born days than I did that minute. The cold chills crep' over me, and I
shuk as ef I had the agur, and I folded my hands behind me and I
looked that feller square in the eye, and I tried to speak three or
four times afore I could make it, and when I did, my voice wasn't
natchurl--sounded like a feller a-whisperin' through a tin horn er
somepin'.--And I says, says I, "You're a liar," slow and delibert. That
was all. His eyes blazed a minute, and drapped; and he turned, 'thout a
word, and walked off. And Ezry says, "He's in airnest; I know he's in
airnest, er he'd a-never a-tuk that!" And so he went on, tel finally
Steve jined in, and betwixt 'em they p'suaded me 'at I was in the wrong
and the best thing to do was to make it all up, which I finally did.
And Bills said 'at he'd a-never a-felt jist right 'thout _my_
friendship, fer he'd wronged me, he said, and he'd wronged Steve and
Mother, too, and he wanted a chance, he said, o' makin' things straight
agin.
Well, a-goin' home, I don't think Steve and me talked o' nothin' else
but Bills--how airnest the feller acted 'bout it, and how, ef he
_wasn't_ in airnest, he'd a-never a-swallered that "lie," you see.
That's what walked my log, fer he could a-jist as easy a-knocked me
higher'n Kilgore's kite as he could to walk away 'thout a-doin' of it.