The valley of shadows

LIBRARY ,

OF THE

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA.

Class

THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

THE VALLEY OF
SHADOWS

RECOLLECTIONS OF THE LINCOLN
COUNTRY 1858-1863

BY

FRANCIS GRIERSON

BOSTON AND NEW YORK

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
ftitier£itie press Cambridge
1909

COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

PREFACE

THIS book is not a novel, but the recollections of
scenes and episodes of my early life in Illinois and
Missouri, the writing of which has been a labour of
love. A cosmopolitan life in the different capitals of
Europe during a period of forty years has not sufficed
to alienate the romance and memory of those wonderful
times.

In looking back I have come to the conclusion that
the power displayed by the most influential preachers
and politicians of the ante-bellum days in Illinois was
a power emanating from the spiritual side of life, and
I have done my best to depict the " silences " that
belonged to the prairies, for out of those silences came
the voices of preacher and prophet and a host of
workers and heroes in the great War of Secession.

In 1863 President Lincoln issued his famous pro-
clamation for the emancipation of the slaves, and with
it the old order passed away never to return. Indeed,
the social upheaval of that year was greater than that
produced by the Declaration of Independence in 1776,
and no matter what happens now, the old political and
social conditions can never be revived. Not only have
the people changed, but the whole face of the nation
has changed — the prairies are gone, and luxurious

vi PREFACE

homes are to be found in the places where log-houses,
primitive woods, and wild flowers were the only
prominent features of the landscape for many miles
together.

I have recorded my impressions of the passing of
the old democracy and the old social system in the
United States, and, curiously enough, I witnessed
again in 1869-70, while residing in Paris, the passing
of another social order — that of Napoleon and the
Empire, the recollections of which I shall leave for a
future volume.

F. G.

MILL HOUSE,
EADCLIVE,

BUCKINGHAM.

January, 1909.

PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN
EDITION

ON presenting to the American public this vivid record
of a remarkable epoch in our history, the publishers have
thought that some account of the author might not be out
of place. Indeed the recollections contained in the follow-
ing pages, interesting as they are in themselves, take, from
the unusual and romantic career of the writer, an added
import and significance.

Francis Grierson was born in Cheshire, England, Septem-
ber 18, 1848, and his parents emigrated to Illinois in March,
1849, to join relatives already settled in that state. He is a
cousin of General B. H. Grierson, and a direct descendant
of Robert Grierson, the "Redgauntlet" of Scott's famous
novel. His father became an American citizen, helped to
elect Lincoln, and returned to England in 1871. The boy,
who early developed a remarkable musical gift, preceded his
father in his return, was introduced to the social and artistic
world of Paris in the late sixties by Alexandre Dumas, the
author of " Monte Cristo," and soon became acquainted with
the social, artistic, and political leaders of the times. With-
out money, without letters of introduction, without aid
from any one, he became the musical celebrity of the day.
Up to this time Chopin had been regarded as the last word
in the domain of musical inspiration and the magical art of

225236

vi PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION

improvisation. The new prodigy evoked not only the char-
acteristics of past musical epochs, but the musical soul of
ancient Egypt, Assyria, Palestine, and Greece. He would
pass from a suave melody of the Italian school, or from a
symphonic movement of the German, to a languid melody
of the East, the pomp or melancholy of Nineveh or Babylon.
And it is said that at certain wonderful moments, he could
add the strangest, most inexplicable voice, that did not fol-
low the music but went along with it, almost independent of
it, rising up from out the middle chords of the piano, faintly
at first, and at last filling the room with indescribable and
thrilling tones. The sensations produced were all the more
profound because the playing was so spontaneous on the
part of the performer. Improvisation was the real key to
the power. The performer himself never knew what would
or could be done. The music came with the charm of some-
thing unlocked for, and absolutely new.

Such gifts were never intended for the public, and Mr.
Grierson restricted his performances to the mansions of cul-
tured people and the salons of musical leaders. Yet he made
some exceptions, consenting once in a while to sing in some
great church or cathedral. He sang by special invitation in
Saint-Eustache and in the great Basilica of Montmartre,
in Paris, and was urged by Leon Gastinelle, the composer
of sacred music, to sing the principal solos in his new mass
to be given in Notre Dame, with full orchestra and chorus,
at the fete of the Annunciation on the 25th of March, 1870.
From Paris he went to London, where he met with a repe-
tition of his Paris triumphs. When the season closed he
accepted an invitation to visit Baden, then the leading

PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION vii

gambling centre of Europe, and the most fashionable of all
watering places. The Bishop of Baden warmly pressed him
to sing in the Cathedral at High Mass. Here he achieved an
unheard-of triumph ; he sang and played the great organ
at the same time. In St. Petersburg the young artist passed
some time as a guest at the Imperial Palace of Gatschina.
After remaining one year in Russia, he returned to Paris,
after which he again visited London. He then went to
Berlin, where his success surpassed that of any virtuoso
who had appeared in the German capital, and from Berlin
he was invited by King Albert of Saxony, the soldier-
musician, to dedicate the Queen's new music-room in the
Strelitz Palace.

But his most striking success was achieved during his
farewell visit to Paris, when the effect produced on the
minds of those who heard him at that time surpassed any-
thing ever experienced in the French capital. Lectures
were given to explain, from a theosophical point of view,
how one person, ignorant of the science of music, and with-
out musical instruction, could produce such a variety of
musical styles, startling effects, unheard-of combinations
of tone and harmony. Sully Prudhomme declared that he
could not find words in the French dictionary to express
the sentiments awakened in him by such a marvellous
performance, and Stephane Mallarme declared that here
was a prodigy who did with musical sounds, combinations,
and melodies what Poe did with the rhythm of words, and
that afor the first time in the history of music we now
have the real poet of the piano."

Mr. Grierson gave up music in the midst of his greatest

viii PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION

triumphs " to get down," as he said, " to serious work." He
had been waiting patiently for the time to come when he
could give up amusing the world and begin to write some
of the sentiments, opinions, judgments which he had long
been hoarding up in silence. His musical career had been
but a schooling for the art of writing. It had been, indeed, as
Alexandre Dumas had hinted, a sort of magical power, not
only for the opening of doors in the social world, but the
opening of the doors of knowledge, the doors of fact as
opposed to illusion, reality as opposed to dreams and theo-
ries. He decided to make the long-contemplated plunge
into the sea of literature. He chose Paris for the experi-
ment, and French as the medium for his thought. The
volume was composed of critical essays, and after its ap-
pearance its author was hailed by academicians and criti-
cal writers as a prose writer of the first order.

Mr. Grierson's two volumes of essays in English —
"Modern Mysticism" and "The Celtic Temperament,"
issued from Ruskin House — brought him immediate re-
cognition, not only as an original stylist but as a thinker
of the school of Maeterlinck. The present volume, a ven-
ture in a new field, will, it is hoped, win him many new
friends among American readers.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PACK

PROEM 1

I. THE MEETING-HOUSE 5

II. THE LOAD-BEARER 20

III. THE LOG-HOUSE 32

IV. SOCRATES GIVES ADVICE 41

v. SILAS JORDAN'S ILLNESS 53

VI. THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 60

VII. AT THE POST-OFFICE .... 78

VIII. MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEARER's HOME .... 85

IX. A NIGHT OF MYSTERY 99

X. SOWING AND REAPING 107

XI. THE FLIGHT 118

XII. THE CAMP-MEETING 134

XIII. THE PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY . . . 154

XIV. THE REGULATORS 170

XV. ALTON AND THE MISSISSIPPI 187

XVI. ABRAHAM LINCOLN 195

XVII. ST. LOUIS : SOCIETY AND THE CHURCHES .... 202

XVIII. THE GREAT FAIR 212

xix. THE PLANTERS' HOUSE 215

XX. THE TORCH-LIGHT PROCESSION . . 222

'2 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

and courage; but the evening brought back the old
silences, with the old, unsolved questionings, strange
presentiments, premonitions, sudden alarms. Yet
over and around all a kind of sub-conscious humour
welled up, which kept the mind hopeful while the
heart was weary. Dressed in butter-nut jeans, and
swinging idly on a gate, many a youth of the time
might have been pointed out as a likely senator, poet,
general, ambassador, or even president. Never was
there more romance in a new country. A great
change was coming over the people of the West.
They retained all the best characteristics of the
Puritans and the settlers of Maryland and Virginia,
with something strangely original and characteristic
of the time and place, something biblical applied to
the circumstances of the hour.

Swiftly and silently came the mighty influences.
Thousands laboured on in silence ; thousands were
acting under an imperative, spiritual impulse without
knowing it ; the whole country round about Spring-
field was being illuminated by the genius of one man,
whose influence penetrated all hearts, creeds, parties,
and institutions.

People were attracted to this region from Kentucky,
Missouri, Indiana, the shores of the Ohio, the British
Isles, France, and Germany. Other States had their
special attractions : Indiana, Kentucky, and Missouri
contained hills and forests, appealing to the eye by a
large and generous variation of landscape ; Iowa and
Kansas sloped upward toward the West, giving to the
mind an ever-increasing sense of hope and power.
To many, Illinois seemed the last and the least because
the most level. Only a poet could feel the charm of

PKOEM 8

her prairies, only a far-seeing statesman could predict
her future greatness.

The prairie was a region of expectant watchfulness,
and life a perpetual contrast of work and idleness,
hope, and misgiving. Across its bosom came the
covered wagons with their human freight, arriving
or departing like ships between the shores of strange,
mysterious worlds.

The early Jesuit missionaries often spoke of the
Illinois prairie as a sea of grass and flowers. A breeze
springs up from the shores of old Kentucky, or from
across the Mississippi and the plains of Kansas,
gathering force as the hours steal on, gradually
changing the aspect of Nature by an undulating
motion of the grass, until the breeze has become a
gale, and behold the prairie a rolling sea ! The
pennant-like blades dip before the storm in low,
rushing billows as of myriads of green birds skim-
ming the surface. The grassy blades bend to the
rhythm of Nature's music, and when clouds begin
to fleck the far horizon with dim, shifting vapours,
shadows as of long grey wings, swoop down over the
prairie, while here and there immense fleeting veils
rise and fall and sweep on towards the sky-line in
a vague world of mystery and illusion.

The prairies possessed a charm created by beauty
instead of awe ; for besides the countless wild flowers,
they had rivers, creeks, lakes, groves, and wooded
strips of country bordering the larger streams.

Everywhere, even in the most desolate places, at all
times and seasons, signs of life were manifest in the
traces, flights, and sounds of animals and birds. Over
the snow, when all seemed obliterated, appeared the

B 2

4 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

track of the mink, fox, and chick-a-dee, while during
the greater part of the year the grass, woods, and air
were alive with winged creatures that came and went
in a perpetual chorus of audible or inaudible song.

The prairie was an inspiration, the humble settlers
an ever-increasing revelation of human patience and
progress. There was a charm in their mode of living,
and real romance in all the incidents and events of
that wonderful time.

CHAPTEE I

THE MEETING-HOUSE

ALL through the winter the meeting-house on Saul's
Prairie had stood deserted and dormant, its windows
rattling in the bleak winds, perhaps longing for the
coming revivals and the living, vital sympathy of
beings " clothed in garments divine " ; but now, how
different it looked on this wonderful Sunday morning,
with its door and windows wide open, the flowers in
bloom, and the birds perched on the tallest weeds
pouring forth their song ! The fleckless sky, and soft,
genial atmosphere had made of the desolate little
meeting-house and its surroundings a place that
resembled a second Garden of Eden.

How calm and beautiful was the face of Nature !
The prairie here in Illinois, in the heart of Lincoln's
country, had a spirit of its own, unlike that of the
forest, and I had come to look upon the meeting-
house as a place possessing a sort of soul, a per-
sonality which made it stand out in my imagination as
being unique among all the meeting-houses I had ever
seen. It must, I thought, feel the states of the
weather and the moods of the people.

The settlers made their way to meeting in wagons,
on horseback and on foot ; and for nearly an hour
people straggled in. They came in family groups,
and a moment of excitement would be followed by a
period of impatient waiting. They came from the

6 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

west, where a faint column of smoke rose in a zig-
zag in the warm, limpid atmosphere ; from the north,
where houses and cabins were hidden in groves or in
hollows ; from the south, where a forest of old oaks
and elms bordered the horizon with a belt of dark
green ; and from the east, where the rolling prairie
spread beyond the limits of vision, a far-reaching vista
of grass and flowers.

I had arrived early on my pony. Our neighbours
would be here, and I should see some of them for the
first time.

Silas Jordan and his wife, Kezia, were among the
first to arrive. He, small, thin, and shrivelled, with
wiry hair and restless nerves, had a face resembling a
spider's web ; cross-bars of crow's feet encircled two
small, ferret-like eyes, sunk deep in their sockets, out
of which he peered with eager suspicion at the
moving phenomena of the world. She, with that
deep glow that belongs to the dusk of certain days in
autumn, had jet-black hair, smoothed down till it
covered the tops of her ears ; her neck rose in a
column from between two drooping shoulders, and her
great languid eyes looked out on the world and the
people like stars from a saffron sunset. Dark and
dreamy, she seemed a living emblem of the tall, dark
flowers and the willows that bordered the winding
rivers and creeks of the prairies.

Then came the Busby s on a horse that " carried
double," Serena Busby wearing a new pink calico
dress and sun-bonnet, the colour clashing with her
reddish hair and freckled face.

When these had settled in their seats there came
one of those half-unearthly spells of silence and

THE MEETING-HOUSE 7

waiting not unlike those moments at a funeral just
before the mourners and the minister make their
appearance.

I had taken a seat inside for a while, but I slipped
out again just in time to see a man come loping along
on a small, shaggy horse, man and animal looking as
if they had both grown up on the prairie together.
It was Zack Caverly, nicknamed Socrates. Zack
was indeed a Socrates of the prairie as well in looks
as in speech, and the person who first called him after
the immortal sage had one of those flashes of inspi-
ration that come now and then to the scholar whose
cosmopolitan experience permits him to judge men by
a single phrase or a gesture. He tied his horse to a
hitching-post, then stood at the door waiting to see
what new faces would appear at the meeting. Here
he met his old acquaintance Silas Jordan.

The talk soon turned to personalities.

" Have ye heerd who them folks is down yander in
the Log-House ? " began Silas, alluding to the new
home of my parents.

"They air from the old kintry," Socrates answered,
his round eyes blinking in a manner not to be de-
scribed.

" Kinder stuck up for these diggings, I'm thinkinV

" I 'low they ain't like us folks," was the careless
response. " They hed a heap o' hired help whar they
come from."

" The Squar tole me hisself what kyounties he hez
lived in sence he come from the old kintry. He hez
lived in two kyounties in Missouri en in four kyounties
in Illinois, and now I reckon it's root hog or die ez fur
ez these diggins goes. It's his second trial on prairie

8 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

land. He 'lows it'll be the last if things don't plough
up jest ez he's sot his mind te havin' 'em. He's
a-layin' in with the Abolitionists, and he voted oncet
fer Abe Lincoln, en he sez he air ready te do it
ag'in."

Socrates looked down the road, and exclaimed :

" Bless my stars ! if thar ain't Elihu Gest ! He's
got a stranger with him."

When Elihu Gest hitched his horse to the fence
Socrates greeted him :

" Howdy, howdy, Brother Gest. I war wonderin'
what hed become o' ye. Ain't seen ye in a coon's
age."

Elihu Gest was known as the " Load-Bearer." He
had earned this nickname by his constant efforts to
assume other people's mental and spiritual burdens.
The stranger he brought with him was the preacher.

" I war jes' wonderin' ez I come along," said the
Load-Bearer, " what the Know-nothin's en sech like
air a-goin' te do, seein' ez how Lincoln en Douglas air
dividin' the hull yearth a-twixt 'em."

" Providence created the Know-nothin's te fill
up the chinks," answered Zack Caverly, " en ye
know it don't noways matter what ye fill 'em up
with."

" I 'low the chinks hez to be filled up somehow,"
replied the Load-Bearer, " en a log-cabin air a mighty
good place te live in when a man's too pore te live in
a frame house."

" Thet's it ; them thar politicioners like Abe Lincoln
en Steve Douglas hev quit livin' in log-cabins, en
thar ain't no chinks fer the Know-nothin' party te fill,"
said Socrates.

THE MEETING-HOUSE 9

He had taken out a big jack-knife and was whittling
a stick.

" 'Pears like thar's allers three kyinds o' every-
thing— thar war the Whigs, the Demicrats, en the
Know-nothin's, en thar air three kyinds o' folks all
over this here kintry — the Methodists, the Hard-
shells, en them thet's saft at feedin'-time, plumb open
fer vittles en dead shet agin religion. Ez I war ex-
plainin' te Squar Briggs t'other day, in the heavings
thar air the sun, the moon, en the stars ; thet air three
kyinds agin. En whar hev ye ever see a kivered
wagin 'thout hosses, creatur's, en yaller dogs ? The
yaller dogs air steppin'-stones te the hosses, the hosses
comin' in right betwixt the varmints en human bein's,
which the Scriptur' sez air jest a leetle below the
angels. But ye'd never guess 'thout a heap o' cute
thinkin' thet a yaller dog could make hisself so kinder
useful like ez wal ez pertickler. Ez fer folks gen'ly,
thar air three kyinds — Yankees, niggers, en white
people/'

" Ye don't calc'late te reckon niggers ez folks ! "
ejaculated Silas Jordan.

" They air folks jes like we air," said the Load-
Bearer, " en they hev souls te save. They air bein'
called on, but somehow the slave-owners ain't got no
ears fer the call."

" Wal," chimed in Socrates, "I ain't agin th?
Abolitionists, en up te now I ain't tuck much int'rest
in the argimints fer en ag'inst. I ain't called on fer te
jedge noways." He looked about him and continued :
" They air talkin' 'bout freein' the niggers, but some o7
these here settlers ain't got spunk 'nough te choose
thar partner fer a dance, ner ile 'nough in thar j'ints te

10 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

bow in a ladies' chain. Mebbe arter all the niggers
air a sight better off 'n we uns air. They ain't got
no stakes in the grounV

At this point there was a shuffling of feet and
spitting. Then his thoughts turned to the past.

" Afore Buchanan's election I hed all the fiddlin' I
could do, but when Pete Cartwright come along he
skeered 'em, en when the Baptists come they doused
'em in p'isen cold water, en now folks air predictin' the
end o' the world by this here comet.* I'll be doggoned
if I've drawed the bow oncet sence folks got skeered
plumb te thar marrer-bones ! T'other night when I
heerd sunthin' snap I warn't thinkin' o' the fiddle, en
when I tuck it down the nex' day jes' te fondle it a
leetle fer ole times' sake I see it war the leadin' string ;
en good, lastin' catgut air skase ez crowin' hens in
these 'ere parts."

Silas Jordan, returning to the subject of my parents,
remarked :

" I reckon them Britishers at the Log-House '11
hev te roll up en wade in if they want te git on in
this here deestric'."

Just then the talk was interrupted by the appearance
of the persons in question, and the crowd at the door
stared in silence as they walked in. When Silas
recovered his wits he continued his remarks :

" She's got on a store bunnit en he's got on a b'iled
shirt." To which Socrates replied, without evincing
the least surprise :

" Tallest man I've seed in these parts 'cept Abe
Lincoln."

* Donati's great comet.

THE MEETING-HOUSE 11

There was a pause, during which the two men gazed
through the open door at the tall man who had passed
in and taken a seat.

There was something strangely foreign and remote
in the impression my parents produced at the meeting.
My mother wore a black silk gown and a black bonnet
with a veil; the tall, straight figure of my father
appeared still taller with his long frock coat and high
collar, and his serious face and Eoman nose gave him
something of a patriarchal look, although he was still
in the prime of life. The arrival of the family from
the Log-House caused a flutter of curiosity, but when
it was seen that the new-comers were devout wor-
shippers the congregation began to settle down to a
spirit of religious repose.

It was a heterogeneous gathering : humorists who
were unconscious of their humour, mystics who did not
understand their strange, far-reaching power, senti-
mental dreamers who did their best to live down their
emotions, old-timers and cosmopolitans with a marvel-
lous admixture of sense and sentiment, political pro-
phets who could foresee events by a sudden, illu-
minating flash and foretell them in a sudden, pithy
sentence. It was a wonderful people, living in a
second Canaan, in an age of social change and upheaval,
in a period of political and phenomenal wonders.

A vague longing filled the hearts of the worshippers.
With the doubts and misgivings of the present, there
was a feeling that to-morrow would bring the realisa-
tion of all the yearnings and promises, and when the
preacher rose and announced that wistful old hymn :

" In the Christian's home in glory
There remains a land of rest,"

12 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

an instant change was produced in the faces of the
people. Silas Jordan led the singing in a high, shrill
voice which descended on the meeting like a cold blast
through a broken window, but Uriah Busby, always
on the look-out for squalls, neutralised the rasping
sounds by his full, melodious waves. His voice gave
forth an unctuous security, not unmixed with a good
part of Christian gallantry. In it there was some-
thing hearty and fraternal ; it leavened conditions and
persons, and made the strangers feel at home.

If Uriah Busby's singing gave substance to the
meeting, that of Kezia Jordan gave expression to its
soul. In the second line her voice rose and fell like a
wave from the infinite depths, with something almost
unearthly in its tones, that seemed to bring forth the
yearnings of dead generations and the unfulfilled
desires of her pioneer parents.

A voice had been heard from behind the thin veil
that separates the two worlds.

My mother felt somewhat timid among so many
strangers. As she looked down at the hymn-book in
her hands, her brows, slightly elevated, gave to her
face an expression of pensive reverence. Kezia Jordan
had noticed two things about the new-comer : her
wonderful complexion and her delicate hands. Kezia
had as yet only glanced at the stranger; had she
heard her speak, she would have remembered her voice
as an influence going straight to the soul, touching at
the heart's secrets without naming them — a voice that
enveloped the listener as in a mantle of compassion,
with intonations suggestive of unaffected sympathy for
all in need of it.

My mother had often heard the old Methodist hymns,

THE MEETING-HOUSE 18

but now for the first time she felt the difference between
the music of a trained choir and the effects produced
by the singing of one or two persons inspired by the
spirit of the time, hour, and place. Never had sacred
song so moved her. Kezia Jordan had infused into
two lines something which partook of revelation. The
words of the hymn, then, were true, and not a mere
juggling with sentiment. Here was an untrained
singer who by an unconscious effort revealed a truth
which came to the listener with the force of inexorable
law, for the words, " there remains a land of rest,"
came as a decree as well as a promise ; and my mother
now realised what life in the Log-House would be for
her.

A glance at the singer confirmed the impression
created by her singing. There, in her strange pro-
phetic features, shone the indelible imprints made by
the lonely years in the long and silent conflict ; there,
in Kezia Jordan's eyes, shone the immemorial memen-
toes of the ages gone, while the expression of her face
changed as the memories came and went like shadows
of silent wings over still, clear waters.

Prayers had been offered with more or less fervour ;
and now with awkward demeanour the preacher stood
up, his pale face and half-scared expression arousing
in the minds of many of the people no little curiosity
and some apprehension.

" Erethering and sistering," he began, in a rambling
way, "ye hev all heerd the rumours thet hez been
passed from mouth te mouth pertainin' te the signs
and wonders o' these here times. Folks's minds is
onsettled. But me en Brother G-est hev been wrastlin'
with the Sperit all night yander at his God-fearin'

14 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

home ; we were wrastlin' f er a tex' fittin' this here
time en meetin', en it warn't till sommairs nigh mornin'
thet Brother Gest opened the Good Book, en p'intin'
his finger, sez : 1 1 hev found it ! Hallelujer ! ' It
war Isaiah, nineteenth chapter, twentieth verse."

Here the preacher opened the Bible. He read
slowly, emphasising certain words so that even the
most obtuse present might catch something of the
meaning.

" 'En it shell be fer a sign, en/<?r a witness unto
the Lord of hosts in the land of Egypt : fer they shell
cry unto the Lord bekase of the oppressors, en he
shell send them a saviour, en a great one, en he shell
deliver them.' "

He stopped a moment to let the congregation muse
on the text, and then proceeded :

" It looked like when he put his finger on thet tex'
Brother Gest war changed ez in a twinklin', en our
watchin' en prayin' war over fer thet night. Brether-
ing, with the findin' o' thet tex' our troubles war gone,
en in thar place thar come te our innermost feelin's a
boundin' joy sech ez on'y them thet hez faith kin
know.'

Here he lost himself ; then, like a drowning man
who clutches at a straw, he seized hold of an old
hackneyed text, the first that came into his mind,
and continued regardless of consequences :

"Fer ez the Scrip tur? sez, ' What came ye out fer
te see ? A reed shaken by the wind ? ' I low most o'
ye hez plenty reeds if ye're anywhars near a snipe
deestric', but I reckon ye ain't troubled much by
seein' 'em shake."

He began to regain confidence, and leaving reeds

THE MEETING-HOUSE 15

he grappled with the earth and the heavens in periods
which carried everybody with him.

" But thar ain't a sinner here, thar ain't no Christian
here to-day thet warn't plumb shuck up by thet
y earthquake t'other night thet rocked ye in yer beds
like ye were bein' rocked in a skiff in the waves
behind one o' them Mississippi stern- wheelers. No,
brethering, the Lord hez passed the time when He
shakes yer cornfields en yer haystacks by a leetle puff
o' wind. He hez opened the roof o' Heaven so ye
can all see what's a-comin'. He hez made it so all o'
ye, 'cept them thet's blind, kin say truly, ' I hev seen
it.1 Under ye the yearth hez been shuck, over ye the
stars air beginnin' te shift en wander. A besom o'
destruction 11 overtake them thet's on the wrong side
in this here fight ! "

He eyed the people up and down on each side, and
then went on :

" But the tex' says, ' He shell send them a saviour,
en a great one, en he shell deliver them/ Now it air
jest ez plain ez the noonday sun thet the Lord
God app'ints His own leaders, en it air jest ez plain
thet His ch'ice ain't fell on no shufflin' backslider.
Ye kin bet all yer land en yer cattle en yer hosses on
this one preposition, en thet is ye cain't git away from
fac's by no cross-argimints thet many air called but
mighty few air chosen ; en thet means thet on'y one
man is 'p'inted te lead."

At this there was a visible change in the attitude
of many of the listeners.

"What air he a-comin' to ?" whispered old Lem
Stephens to Uriah Busby.

It was a bold stroke ; but Elihu Gest, the

16 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

Load-Bearer, had won over the preacher to speak
out, and he was coming to the main point as fast as
an artless art and blunt but effective rhetoric would
let him.

He proceeded with his sermon, now bringing the
expectant people to the verge of the last period, now
letting them slip back as if he were giving them a
" breathing spell " to brace them for a still stronger
stage in the argument. It was wonderful how
this simple preacher, without education or training,
managed to keep the interest of the congregation at
boiling point for more than an hour before he pro-
nounced the two magical words that would unlock
the whole mystery of the discourse. Before him sat
old Whigs, Know-nothings and Democrats, Ee-
publicans, militant Abolitionists, and outspoken friends
of slave-owners in the South. But the Load-Bearer
was there, his eyes riveted on the speaker, every nerve
strung to the utmost pitch, assuming by moral com-
pact the actual responsibility of the sermon. If the
preacher failed Elihu Gest would assume his loads ; if
the sermon was a triumph he would share in the
preacher's triumph.

As the sermon drew to a close it became evident
that by some queer, roundabout way, by some process
of reasoning and persuasion that grew upon the people
like a spell, they were listening, and had all along
been listening, to a philippic against slavery.

At last the preacher's face lost its timorous look.
With great vehemence he repeated the last part of his
text:

" < Fer they shell cry unto the Lord bekase of the
oppressors, en he shell send them a saviour, en a

THE MEETING-HOUSE 17

great one,' " — here he struck the table a violent blow
— " ' en he shell deliver them ! ' "

There was a moment of bewilderment and suspense,
during which Lem Stephens was preparing for the
worst. His mouth, usually compressed to a thin,
straight slit, was now stiffened by a bull-dog jaw
which he forced forward till the upper lip had almost
disappeared ; Minerva Wagner sat rigid, her mummy-
like figure encased in whalebone wrapped in linsey-
woolsey.

The preacher gave them no rest :

"Now right here I want ye all te ask yerselves
who it air thet's a-cryin' fer deliverance. Who air
it?" he shouted. "Why, thar ain't but one people
a-cryin' fer deliverance, en they air the slaves down
thar in Egypt ! "

The words fell like a muffled blow in the silence.
Lem Stephens sat forward, breathless ; Uriah Busby
heaved a long sigh ; fire flashed from Mrs. Wagner's
grey, faded eyes ; Ebenezer Hicks turned in his seat,
his bushy eyebrows lowering to a threatening frown ;
while the face of Socrates wore a look of calm and
neutral curiosity.

But hardly had the meeting realised the full force
of the last words when the preacher put the final
questions :

"En who shell deliver them? Do any o' ye
know? Brethering, thar ain't but one human
creatur' ekil to it, en thet air Abraham Lincoln.
The Lord hez called him ! "

An electrical thrill passed through the meeting. A
subtle, permeating power took possession of the con-
gregation, for the preacher had pronounced the first

v.s. c

18 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

half of the name, Abraham, in such a way that it
seemed as if the patriarch of Israel was coming once
more in person to lead the people. An extraordinary
influence had been evoked; a living investment of
might and mystery, never at any time very distant,
was now close at hand.

Ebenezer Hicks rose, and casting a fierce glance
about him hurried out ; Minerva Wagner sprang
from her seat like an automaton suddenly moved by
some invisible force and left the meeting, followed by
her two tall, lank sons ; Lem Stephens hurried after
them, and with each step gave vent to his feelings by
a loud thump on the bare floor with his wooden leg.
When he got to the door he cast one last withering
look at the preacher.

But Uriah Busby's voice rang out loud and
sonorous :

" How tedious and tasteless the hours
When Jesus no longer I see."

The old hymn was taken up by Kezia Jordan in the
next line. Once more her voice filled the meeting-
house with golden waves, once more every heart beat
in unison, and every soul communed in an indescrib-
able outpouring of religious melody.

The whole congregation was singing now. With
Kezia7 s voice a balm of Gilead came pouring over the
troubled waters created by the strange, prophetic and
menacing sermon. The Load-Bearer, with hardly
voice enough to speak aloud, was singing ; the preacher
sang even louder than he had preached ; Serena
Busby sang as I never heard her sing again ; and
while those who had left the meeting were about to

THE MEETING-HOUSE 19

depart they heard what they would never hear repeated.
The opportunity to join hands with the coming power
had passed, and as they set out for home they must
have been haunted by the matchless magic and
simplicity of the words and music, and more than ever
would the coming hours seem " tedious and tasteless "
to them.

c 2

CHAPTEE II

THE LOAD-BEARER

had been four months in the Log-House and
my mother was just beginning to feel at home when
one afternoon, as I was sauntering along the road near
the gate, I saw a man on foot coming from the south.

As he approached I noticed that his features had a
peculiar cast, his hair was rather long, his movements
somewhat slow, and when he arrived in front of the
gate he squared about and stopped with a sort of jerk,
as if he had been dreaming but was now awake and
conscious that this was the place he had come to visit.
He peered at the Log-House as though awaiting some
interior impulse to move him to further action ; then
he opened the gate, and, walking through the yard to
the front door, rapped lightly.

I had followed him in, and when my mother opened
the door and the stranger said, in a listless sort- of
way, " I jes' called to see how ye're gettin' on," I
saw it was Elihu Gest, the Load-Bearer.

My mother thanked him, invited him in, and offered
him a chair.

" I low ye're not long settled in this 'ere section,"
he said, taking a seat.

"Not long," she answered; "we are quite settled
in the house, but on the farm my husband has so
much to do he hardly knows where to begin."

She placed the kettle on the stove for coffee, and

THE LOAD-BEAKER 21

busied herself about getting the strange visitor some
substantial refreshment. I thought I had never seen
a face more inscrutable. He eyed my mother with
grave interest, and after a silence that lasted some
considerable time he said :

" If yer loads is too heavy jes' cast 'em off ; the
Lord is willin' en I ain't noways contrary. "

Not till now did she realise that this was the man
she had heard so much about ; but not knowing just
what to say, she gave no answer.

As he sat and stared at my mother his presence
diffused a mysterious influence. My mind was busy
with queries : Who sent him ? What are his loads ?
Why does he take such an interest in my mother ?
And I thought she must be giving him coffee and
eatables the better to enable him to support his loads,
whatever they might be. She placed the coffee and
other good things on the table and cordially invited
the stranger to make himself at home. After pouring
out a cup of coffee she sat down with folded hands,
her pale face more pensive than usual, making some
remarks about the weather and the good prospects for
the new settlers.

Elihu Gest sat, a veritable sphinx of the prairie,
wrapped in his own meditations. She almost feared
that his visit might be a portent of some coming
calamity, and that he had come to warn her and help
her to gather force and courage for the ordeal.

Yet there was something in his look which inspired
confidence and even cheerfulness, and she concluded it
was good to have him sitting there. He began to sip
his coffee, and at last, as if waking from a reverie, he
put the question :

22 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

" How air ye feelin' in sperit ? "

"The Lord has been merciful," she replied, the
question having come as an immediate challenge to
her religious faith and courage.

" Yer coffee is mos' appetizin'," he said, with a
slight sniff.

" I am glad you like it, and I hope you are feeling
rested, for you seem to have come a long way."

" They's a powerful difference a-twixt a mile and
what a man's thinkin'. When yer mind is sot on one
thing the distance a-twixt two places ain't much
noways."

" Do you always walk ? " she asked sympathetically.

" It's accordin' te how the hoss is feelin'. If the
beast's anyways contrary he gives a snort, ez much ez
te say, ' Mebbe Til carry ye en mebbe I won't ' ; but
when he snorts and kicks both te oncet thet means
he'll kick the hind sights off all creation if I try te
ride him. I've seen him when Joshua en his trumpet
couldn't git him outen the barn door. I don't believe
in workin' dumb critters when their sperits air droopin'.
I'm allers more contented when I'm 'bleeged te walk ;
en hosses air powerful skase."

" Necessity compels us to do many things that
seem impossible, but we learn to accept them as the
best things for us. Won't you have some more
coffee?"

" Yer coffee is mos' appetizing it is so."

" And won't you eat something ? "

" I'm much obleeged, but I don't feel no cravin'
fer vittles. Accordin' te Sister Jordan, yer cakes en
pies beats all she ever see."

" Mrs. Jordan is a very good woman."

THE LOAD-BEARER 23

" She is so ; I've knowed her from away back."

There came another pause, during which the visitor
looked straight before him. lost in thought. Presently
he began :

" Thet comet's convicted a good many folks.
Ebenezer Hicks war skeered half te death when he
see it a-comin', makin' the loads mos' heavy fer his
pore wife."

Then, addressing my mother, he continued :

"The night he war 'flicted, I couldn't git te sleep
nohow. I sez to myself, ' Thar's an axle-tree wants
ilein', en I'll be blamed if it ain't over te Ebenezer
Hicks's.' I went te the barn te see how the hoss war
feelin', en I sez, c Kin ye carry me over te Ebenezer
Hicks's if I saddle ye ? ' But Henry Clay give a
kick thet sot me wonderin' how I war ever goin' te
git thar."

"Many people think the end of the world is at
hand," said my mother.

"They do, fer a fact."

He paused a moment, then went on :

" But them thet's skeered air folks without faith.
I ain't got no call fer te take loads from folks what's
skeered. Summow I cain't carry 'em."

" The burdens of life are, indeed, hard to bear alone."

" They air so ; en 'twixt you and me, marm, I'm
jest a might onsartin 'bout what it air 'flicts some
folks. Tears like Satan skeers more folks 'n is ever
won over by the Lord's goodness en mercy. Them
thet's allers a-tremblin' ain't much account when it
comes te strappin' the belly-band real hard ; they
don't never set tight in the saddle when they're called
on te go plumb through a wilderness o' thistles."

24 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

After meditating again for a time, he resumed :

" But Ebenezer Hicks warn't a patchin' on Uriah
Busby what lives yander at Black B'ar Creek. He
war so skeered he sot to weepin' when he see me
come in, en I never see a woman ez hoppin' mad ez
Sereny Busby ! I couldn't take no loads from
Brother Busby; accordin' te my notion, he warn't
settin' up under none, en jest ez soon ez I sot eyes on
Sister Busby I see she hedn't hitched up to nothin' of
any heft neither. She don't set still long enough. I
'low I war some dis'p'inted."

He laughed faintly ; perhaps he wished to convey
the impression that the burdens of life were not so
dreadful, after all.

" I fear you had your trouble all for nothing," said
my mother.

"Ye see, Brother Busby war skeered, en Sister
Busby got her dander up. I never knowed a woman
with red hair that war af eared of man or beast."

" Mr. Busby must have been very much frightened,"
remarked my mother, smiling.

" Not so skeered but what he could talk. Si
Jordan had his speech tuck plumb away, en I never
see Sister Jordan so flustered. But she don't say
much nohow. Sereny Busby she keeps the top
a-spinnin' the livelong day. But I hev seen Uriah
Busby caved in more'n oncet. I knowed 'em both
afore they war married. If I wanted a woman,
sprightly with her tongue ez well ez with her hands,
I'd take Sereny Busby fer fust ch'ice ; if I wanted a
woman what knows a heap en sez mos' nothin', I'd
take Kezia Jordan. Human natur' ain't allers the
same. I 'low Sister Busby's got the most eddication."

THE LOAD-BEABEK 25

" But education never helps much if the heart is
not in the right place. "

"Thet thar's what I've allers said. Tears like
sometimes Sereny Busby's heart's jest a leetle lop-
sided en wants re-settin', ez ye might say. But
thar's a sight o' difference atwixt one load en another.
When I set with some folks what's in a heap o'
trouble, I go away ez happy ez kin be, but when I
hev te go away without ary a load, I feel mos'
empty."

Here there was another spell of silence, but after a
few sips from a third cup of coffee he continued :

" Tears like thar warn't never no heft te Sereny
Busby's troubles. She don't give 'em no chance te
set ; en jest ez a duck's back goes agin water, her'n
is set agin loads."

" The Lord has given her a cheerful mind ; I think
she has much to be thankful for."

" She hez, fer a fact. But I never kin tell jes' how
her mind is a-workin'. She steps roun' ez spry ez kin
be, hummin' fiddle tunes mosly ; en when Brother
Busby tuck te bed with thet fever what's mos' killed
him, she kept on a-hummin', en some folks would
a-said she war triflin', but she warn't. She give
Uriah his med'cine mos' reg'lar, en mopped his head
with cold water from the well, en made him appetizin'
rabbit soup. The Bible sez the sperit's willin' but
the flesh is weak, but I don't see no failin' in a
woman thet kin hum all day like a spinnin'-top.
. . . But I allers kin tell what Kezia Jordan is
a-thinkin', en thar ain't no two ways 'bout it; Sister
Jordan kin sing hymns so ye want te give right up en
die, ye feel so happy."

26 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

" She has something wonderful in her voice when
she sings," said my mother ; u I felt that when I
heard her sing * in meeting/ "

" I 'low Si Jordan ain't pertickler benev'lent, but
Kezia Jordan counts fer more'n one in that 'ar house."

" I fear she has had a life of much care and trouble,
and perhaps that is one reason why she is so good."

" Folks is born like we find 'em, marm. I've been
nigh on thirty year wrastlin' with the sorrows o' life,
en I ain't seen ary critter change his spots. A wolf
don't look like a wild cat, en I nevei see a fox with a
bob tail ; en folks air like varmints : God Almighty
hez marked 'em with His seal."

He looked round the room abstractedly, and then
said:

" It's looks thet tells when a man's in trouble ; en
a heap o' tribulation keeps folks from hollerin'.
Sister Jordan hez knowed trouble from away back.
But thar's a tremenjous difference a-twixt her en Si
Jordan. He kin talk en pray when he gits a-goin',
en I've heared him when it looked like his flow o?
words would swamp the hull endurin' meetin' ; but
when the risin' settled, thar warn't much harm done
no way. But jes' let Sister Jordan sing a hymn, en
ye feel like the hull yearth war sot in tune."

" That is because she is so sincere," observed my
mother, gravely.

"Thet's a fact. I ain't never forgot the time when
I hed thet spell o'sickness en felt ez if thar war nothin'
wuth a-livin' fer. What with sickness, en the defeat
o' Fremont, en them desperadoes cuttin' up over in
Kansas, en the goin's on o' them Demicrats in Spring-
field, 'peared like I never would be good fer nothin'

THE LOAD-BEAKEK 27

more. All te oncet the f eelin' come over me te go over
te Kezia Jordan's. Thet ud be 'bout ez much ez I could
do, seein' I war like a chicken what's jes' pecked its
way through the shell. I hedn't got ez fur ez the
kitchen door when I heared her a-singin' :

" ' Come thou Fount of every blessin',
Tune my heart te sing Thy praise.'

" Thet voice o' her'n set me a-cryin', en I sot right
down on the door-steps, en thanked God fer all His
goodness. Arter a while, she come out fer a bucket
o* water.

" i Good Land ! ' she sez; < I'm right glad te see ye.
Go right in ; ye're jest in time fer dinner ; I've got
some real nice prairie chicken en pum'kin pie;
everything's 'mos' ready.'

" Soon as I went in she sez :

" 'Mercy on us, Elihu! I never see ye look so ! Set
right down, en tell me what ails ye ; ye ain't been
sick 'thout lettin' me know, hev ye ? '

" I like to have such a good Christian as my nearest
neighbour," said my mother, with much feeling.

" I allow she warn't allers a Christian. I war over
at Carlinville when she heard Pete Cartwright fer the
fust time, en the meetin' -house warn't big enough te
hold the people. Sister Jordan warn't moved te sing
any durin' the fust hymn, but she j'ined in the second,
en arter thet Brother Cartwright tuck right holt, ez
ye might say, en swung 'em till their feet tetched
perdition.

" < Yo're ripe,' he sez, holdin' out his fist, l yo're
ripe, like grain waitin' fer the reaper ! Ye'll be
mowed down, en the grain '11 be plumb divided from

28 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

the chaff, en the Christians '11 be parted from the
sinners.1

" The hull meetin' began to move like wheat
a-wavin' in the wind. The preacher knowed Kezia
Jordan fer a nat'ral-born Christian by her singin\
fer he p'inted straight, en sez :

" ' Ye're at the cross-roads, sister; ye'll hev te
choose one or t'other ; en the years en the months air
gone fer most o' ye, en thar's on'y this here hour left
fer te choose. Which will it be ? Will it be the road
thet leads up yander, or the one thet leads down by the
dark river whar the willers air weepin' night en day ? '

" This war the turnin' p'int fer a good many ; but
the preacher warn't satisfied yet. He rolled up en
went te work in dead arnest. He told 'bout the fust
coon hunt he ever see :

" * Sinners,' he sez, ' is jes' like the coon asleep in
thet tree — never dreamin' o' danger. But the varmint
war waked all on a sudden by a thunderin' smell o'
smoke, en hed te take te the branches. Someone
climbs up the tree en shakes the branch whar the
coon is holdin' on.' En' right here Pete Cartwright
slung his handkerchief over his left arm en sez, ' A
leetle more, a leetle more, a 1-e-e-e-tle more en the
varmint's bound te drap squar' on the dogs.' He
shuck his arm three times — down, down, down, he
sez, lettin' the handkerchief drap, ' down te whar the
wailin' en gnashin' air a million times more terrible
'n the sufferin's o' thet coon.' "

The Load-Bearer bent forward and his face assumed
a look of tragic intensity as he continued :

" A veil o' mournin' war a-bein' pulled down over
the meetin'. He war takin' the people straight te

THE LOAD-BEARER 29

jedgment, like a flock o' sheep, with the goats a-
followin', usin' no dividin' line, for he put it to 'em :

" < Whar would ye all be if this here floor war te
slide right from under ye, leavin' ye settin' on the
brink, with Time on one side en Etarnity on t'other ? '

" The hull meetin' war shuck te pieces, some hollerin',
some too 'flicted te set up ; en I see nigh on twenty
plumb fainted en gone."

Elihu Gest sighed as he sat back in his chair, and
proceeded in his usual way :

" When the meetin' war over I sez te Sister Jordan,
' How air ye feelin' in sperit ? * En she sez, ' I've
had more'n enough o' this world's goods ! '

" * I want te know ! ' sez I.

"'Yes,' she sez, <I don't never want no more.'
En I see it war for everlastinV

No one spoke for a long time.

At last he rose from his chair and moved towards
the door like one in a dream, his face wearing a look
of almost superhuman detachment.

Then, just before passing out, he turned and said,

" 111 bid ye good-day, fer the present."

This visit made the day a memorable one for me,
for I saw in Elihu Gest a human wonder ; he opened
up a world of things and influences about which I had
never dreamed. And when he had disappeared down
the road to the south, the way he had come, I
wondered how he was carrying his loads, what they
could be, and whether my mother felt relieved of any
of her burdens. But I held my peace, while she
simply remarked :

" A very strange but very good man. I wonder if
we shall ever see him again ? "

30 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

Here was a man who did everything by signs,
tokens, impressions ; who was moved by some power
hidden from the understanding of everyone else — a
power which none could define, concerning which
people had long since ceased to question. He came
and went, influenced by signs in harmony with his
own feelings and moods, by natural laws shut off from
our understanding by the imperative rules of conven-
tional religion and society. Things which were sealed
mysteries to us were finger-posts to him, pointing the
way across the prairies, in this direction or in that.
Is it time to go forth ? He would look up at the
heavens, sense the state of Nature by the touch of the
breeze, sound the humour of the hour with a plumb-
line of his own, then set out to follow where it led.

The Load-Bearer's presence, his odd appearance,
his descriptions and peculiar phrases, his spells of
silence, his sudden enthusiasms, the paradox of humour
and religious feeling displayed, brought to our home
the fervour and candour of the meeting-house — honest
pioneer courage and frankness, and, above all, an
influence that left on me an impression never to be
effaced. How far, how very far, we were from the
episcopal rector, with his chosen words, studied
phrases, and polite and dignified sympathy ! How
far it all was from anything my parents had ever
dreamed of even in so remote a country ! The prairie
was inhabited by a people as new and strange as the
country itself.

And what a gulf there was between the customs of
the old country and the customs usual in the new
West ! Visitors appeared unannounced and at almost
any hour. To-day a neighbour would come two miles

THE LOAD-BEAKEK 31

to borrow some sugar ; to-morrow another would
come still farther to borrow tea or coffee. All were
received as if they were old and tried friends. My
mother attended to the wants of those who came to
boiTOW things for the table, while my father did his
best to satisfy the men who came to borrow ploughs,
spades, saws, wagons, and even horses.

For the neighbours considered my father a rich
man, judging him by the horses, sheep and cattle he
owned. And when he appeared at meetings, wearing
a handsome velvet waistcoat with rich blue checks —
one of the waistcoats he purchased during his visit to
Paris before his marriage — they thought him richer
still.

Thus are appearances even more deceptive and
dangerous than words, for all, without exception, are
judged by the illusions produced by property and
personal attire.

CHAPTER III

THE LOG-HOUSE

THE Log-House was built some twenty-five years
before we came to live in it, but we never knew who
planted the trees and flowers. Surely it must have
been a lover of Nature, for these we know by the little
signs and tokens they leave behind them. Certain
flowers were omitted, such as the rose, the flower of
fashion and convention, the one with least suggestive
influence on the heart and the affections, for it always
turns the thoughts on more personal and worldly things.

There is a law of correspondence, a kind of secret
code proper for each condition of life, and people
become distorted and confused when this law is ignored.
How often I wanted to know who planted these
flowers ! I thought I could guess how the woman
looked — for it certainly was a woman — and I fancied
I could see her arriving here from the South with her
husband, the couple intent on leading a quiet life, the
husband raising stock instead of wheat and corn, the
wife attending to household duties and to the planting
and watering of the flowers — the old familiar ones
which harmonised with the prairie and the inmost
instincts of the soul.

I seem to see a tall, spare woman, with a pensive
face, as silent and psychic as Kezia Jordan, planting
the flowers in the first warm spell of the first April,
in the evenings, after supper, when the earth that had

THE LOG-HOUSE 33

waited her coming for seons and seons yielded up
the fragrance of that marvellous loam composed of
withered grass and flowering weeds. Her husband is
seated in an old rocking-chair in the kitchen getting
all the music he can out of a raspy fiddle, a blood-
hound lying on the floor beside him. The wife plants
only those flowers that have wistful eyes and homely
souls, and with every one a thought goes out that fills
a void between the past and the present, as she says
to herself: "That is the way they were at home."
For the silent figure, intent on digging with her own
hands the holes for the seeds and young plants, is
thinking of one who planted flowers of the same kind
years before, far away in another part of the country.
And so she works through the warm evenings, placing
each thing, not according to any rule of art, but accord-
ing to memory and the promptings of instinct. For
the yard around the Log-House was not disfigured
with walks made by measure and strewn with sand
and shells. Everything grew as if by nature, and
this freedom gave the place a character of its own
which the slightest show of conventional art would
have made impossible. The sweet-william grew in
great high bunches, interlaced with the branches of
other shrubs, and the gympsum-weed and sumac were
not far off, under which the chickens stood and cleaned
their feathers, and where, on rainy days, they lent an
air of gloom to the surroundings.

And now that the silent figure has planted the
summer flowers, she thinks of the last and most im-
portant of all, the morning-glory. This she places at
each side of the north door, where in the future it will
be the only green thing on that side of the house,

v.s. D

34 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

excepting one large locust tree. But the morning-
glory ! With what care she waters the plant when the
ground is dry, and how she looks forward to the day
when it will be full of bloom, covering each side of
the door, reminding her of the old homestead and
absent friends !

And thus the last planting is done, and she steps
inside and sits down beside her husband, musing for
awhile, as my own mother would now do before
beginning some new work.

How does it happen that between people who are
strangers to one another there should be a connecting
link of sympathy, forged by little acts like the plant-
ing of a certain flower, at a special time, in a special
place ? Perhaps there is a secret and invisible agree-
ment between certain persons and places, a definite
meaning in the coming and going of certain persons
we have never seen, and that nothing is wholly futile.
However it may be, the flower that was planted on
the north side of the house by someone years before
seemed planted there as much for my special benefit as
for anyone else's.

One day, after breakfast, my attention was arrested
by a sight which gave me a thrill of admiration.
The morning-glories were in bloom ! There they
were, like a living vision, revealing to me something
in the kingdom of flowers I had never seen or felt
before. The radiant days of summer had decked the
Log-House with a mantle more beautiful than any
worn by the Queen of Sheba or by Solomon when he
received her. And now, as the days were growing
more languid and the evenings more wistful, autumn,
with her endless procession of far, faint shadows,

THE LOG-HOUSE 85

would steal across the threshold under a canopy of
infinite and indescribable colour.

How the spell of their magic changed the appear-
ance of the house ! The flowers looked out on sky
and plain with meek, mauve-tinted eyes, after having
absorbed all the amaranth of a cloudless night, the
aureole of early morning, and a something, I know
not what, that belongs to dreams and distance wafted
on waves of colour from far-away places. At times the
flowers imparted to the rugged logs the semblance of
a funeral pyre, their beauty suggesting the mournful
pomp of some martyr- queen, with pale, wondering
eyes, awaiting the torch in a pallium of purple. They
gave to the entrance a sort of halo that symbolised
the eternal residuum of all things mortal and visible.

How impressive around the Log- House was that
hour of the evening when, just after sundown, the
birds, the chickens, and the turkeys began to seek a
resting-place for the night ! With the gradual dying
away of sound and movement, everything was tinged
with mourning. When at last, with the slow fading
twilight, the fluttering of wings and chirping ceased,
a vague stillness evoked a feeling of mystery that
spread over the house and ev^^y thing around it.

Now and again the quie+ »/as broken by the sharp
whiz of insects darting here and there through the
gloaming, the cry of the whip-poor-will, as it flitted
between the house and the hollow, or the far, lone-
some call of the hoot-owl, followed by a puff of wind,
the rustling of grass, and a period of nameless unrest,
during which the crickets and the katy-dids began
their long, languid litanies of the night.

Then, on certain evenings, a faint glow in the east

D 2

86 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

would appear, and above the horizon the dawn of
moonrise gradually illumined the borders of the
wilderness. In a few moments more an immense
crimson disc looked out on the silence from behind
great sheets of blood-red clouds, presently merging
into amber, with stripes of silver and gold. But
these colours would soon give place to a serene glow,
and from that time until daybreak all Nature was
wrapped in phantasmal twilight, the Log-House loom-
ing like a spectral silhouette in the silver light, its
rugged logs heaped together like something in a
dream, on the borders of a world apart, haunted by
gliding shadows and illusive sounds.

Inside the house, after supper, when everything
was put in order for the night, the stillness was
oppressive, for the quiet was not that of repose. It
suggested an immense and immeasurable sadness, and
my mother would sit knitting in silence, with thoughts
of the far-absent ones. About ten o'clock my father
would read the evening prayers from the Anglican
Prayer-book, with the whole family kneeling, and I
wondered what efficacy written prayers could have.
But whenever I heard my mother utter the words :
" May the Lord in His goodness have mercy on us ! "
I felt an instant accession of power. The words,
coming from that magical voice, unlocked the
reservoirs of the infinite, and faith came rushing
through the flood-gates. They brought a presence
which rilled the house with hope and comfort. I
was satisfied without being able to explain why. There
were moments when she seemed to bring a super-
human power to the threshold of the Log-House
beyond which danger and despair could not enter.

THE LOG-HOUSE 37

She had implicit faith in what she called the
" Promises." " The Lord in His mercy will never
permit it," she used to say when a calamity seemed
inevitable ; and with all her sorrows the irreparable
never happened. Faith and prayer form a bulwark
around the lives of some people through which no
permanent misfortune ever penetrates.

Sometimes, after the evening prayers, the house
became subdued to a stillness which produced the
effect of someone having crept in by stealth. The
flames had gone from the logs ; the embers were
smouldering into ashes; the light and sparkle had
turned to something that resembled audible thought.
This was the hour when the things which during the
day gave forth no noticeable sound now seemed to
speak or to chant. The stroke of the old clock, with
its long pendulum, went like a plummet to the depths
of the soul. It brought forth that part of Nature
which is hidden from our sight by a thin veil behind
which we can sometimes hear the voices on the other
side. The cry of the cricket was that of a tiny
friend, affecting only the smallest nerves of silence,
but the solemn tones of the time-piece accentuated
our isolation. Some clocks are nervous and rasping,
others emit a tone of hope and serenity, but the one
in the Log-House had a deep, portentous tone which
filled one with a sense of the hollowness of things, the
futility of effort, a consciousness of days and nights
continually departing, of vanishing memories, and of
people passing into lonely, isolated and everlasting
dreams. A great gulf now separated us from the rest
of the world, and my mother sat like one under a
spell.

38 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

About midnight the stillness became an obsession.
All Nature was steeped in an atmosphere of palpable
quiet, teeming with dismal uncertainty and sombre
forebodings. The flickering of a tallow candle added
something ghostly to the room with its dark mahogany
furniture, while every unfamiliar sound outside
startled the members of the family who were still
awake. The doleful duets of the katy-dids often
came to a sudden stop, and during the hush it
seemed as if anything might happen — the apparition
of a phantom, or the arrival of a band of masked
marauders. An owl would visit the solitary locust
tree which stood between the north door and the barn,
and its weird calls sent a shiver through the night.
The first note had an indescribable quality, and the
series of half-veiled trumpet calls that followed pro-
duced on me a sensation never to be forgotten. They
sounded like nothing else in Nature, and came to me
as a lament from some waif of the wilderness.

" Hear me, hear me, inhabitants of the Log-House !
Is solitude now your portion ? "

Again, in the dead of night, some animal would
carry off a fowl, and the long-drawn-out "caws"
came like the cries of a child for help, growing less
and less distinct, and at last dying away in the dis-
tance as the animal passed the barn and began the
descent into the hollow towards the woods. The
effect on me was one of nervous apprehension. It
was the mystery which added a nameless dread to a
mere incident of the night.

On stormy nights in the autumn the north wind
brought with it voices that moaned and sighed. Every
sweep of the wind came with a chorus of lamentations

THE LOG-HOUSE 39

that moved round and round, first on one side then
on the other, and the intervals of silence between
the gusts came as respites before some final disaster.
The big locust, that stood alone, had an ominous
whistle, while the trees and bushes at the front and
back swayed under the low, swooping gusts, until the
Log-House seemed once more a part of the wild and
primitive forest.

At times streaks of cold light from the semi-circling
moon would fall through the window on the old rag-
carpet. Old, because each strip had belonged to
garments worn long before the carpet was put together.
It needed the moonlight or the soft rays of the setting
sun to bring out all its romance and mystery. Then
the stripes of saffron evoked the presence of Kezia
Jordan, and the darker hues memories of the Load-
Bearer, Socrates, and Minerva Wagner. What
romantic adventure these patches suggested ! I
would sit and count the pieces and compare one colour
with another, for each seemed imbued with a per-
sonality of its own. Here, in the common sitting-
room, filled with chimeras about to vanish, each strip
of cloth was as a pillow for some dead thing of the
past, some greeting or regret. There were strips worn
when the wearer set sail from the old country, others
had faced a hail of bullets at Buena Vista, passed
through an Indian rising, or the first stormy meetings
of the Abolitionists in Illinois. Once all these strips
of cloth had stood for life and action ; they wrapped a
world of dreams and moods, but now they covered a
rough floor in a house of logs. They humanised the
interior as graves humanise a plot of earth. And
never did sacred carpet of Mecca contain so much of

40 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

the magic of life ; for here, too, daily prayers were
said on bended knee, and the carpet seemed one with
the religious aspirations of the occupants, with all our
hopes and fears, joys and sorrows.

How genial and home-like it was ! It belonged to
the order of the wild roses and flowering weeds, the
corn and clover, the morning-glories, the gympsum,
the sumac, and the red-winged blackbirds that soared
in circles around and above the house.

If its shreds and patches suggested things of the
past, the Log-House life it represented was palpitating
with the present : full of human dreams and ambitions,
of the voiceless sentiments that make a home in the
bosom of the prairie. It invited the tired wayfarer
of the lonely roads to come in and be refreshed with
steaming coffee and hot biscuits, pound-cake, and
dainty pies made from the products of the loamy soil ;
it invited all to step in and listen to words of
encouragement if in trouble, and words of sympathy
if in affliction ; for the rag-carpet was made for the
Log-House, and the Log-House was made for Man.

CHAPTEE IV

SOCRATES GIVES ADVICE

THE day Socrates made his first call at the Log-
House I happened to be at home, instead of fishing,
a mile away, or wandering about in my accustomed
haunts among the squirrels, birds and rabbits. He
brought Ebenezer Hicks with him.

Socrates entertained me with some simple stories of
his experience as a hunter and trapper twenty or thirty
years earlier : how he killed big game during the
winters of the great snows, his buffalo hunts in
Missouri and Iowa, his strange devices for snaring
the mink, the fox, and the raccoon.

I devoured every word with eager excitement :
here was the actual romance of the wild woods.

" And have you killed many bitterns and owls?"
I inquired.

" I don't b'lieve in killin' things ye cain't eat or
skin."

It seemed to me that this Socrates of the wilder-
ness had something of the look of a big horned owl,
with his bushy eyebrows and short scraggy beard.
Over his sparsely- covered head the years had cast a
halo of experience and wisdom, and I began to respect
this man who united in himself so much adventure
and common-sense. He seemed strong as a lion and
harmless as a lamb, free as the winds of the prairie,
yet methodical and never in doubt. He brought with

42 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

him into the Log-House — where our family had
gathered like a flock of sheep in a strange land
— a feeling of security and a renewal of faith and
courage.

" There's not much need of raising stock in this
part of the country," said my father jokingly ; " game
is so plentiful."

" The new settlers air givin' tharselves a heap o'
trouble jes' fer the fun o' ploughin' en reapin'. They
snap the bow-strings. They air tryin' te kill big
game with a shot-gun, en the shot scatters all over
the kintry. It air good 'nough fer rabbits en
squirrels, but it don't stop a buck jumpin' er a b'ar
from browsin'. I see a heap o' hard work fer some o'
these here settlers what's comin' in from the ole
kintries over East. 'Tain't wisdom.

" Some folks air too good fer this world 'thout bein'
plumb ready fer the nex'. Accordin' te thar reasoning
a prairie-chicken settin' on the fence air better'n two
birds o' paradise over yander. The world air a
sorrowin' vale, kase folks hez too many stakes in the
groun'. Ez fer me, I kin shoot en trap all I ken eat,
jes' plantin' 'nough corn fer hoe-cakes en a leetle
fodder, en some taters en turnips en pum'kins ; en I
hev a sight more smoked venison en b'ar meat in
winter than I kin eat ez a single man with on'y one
stommick ; en I 'low I kin give a traveller hoe-cakes
en fried chicken all he wants to fill up on."

Socrates sat like a lump of hewn adamant, his look
alone being sufficient guarantee of his ability to take
care of himself without the slightest trouble or worry.

" Thar be folks that air trampin' over these prairies
a-spadin' up trouble like thar warn't cone te be hed

SOCEATES GIVES ADVICE 48

by settin' down in the city en lettin' other folks bring
it to 'em. Thar's a heap too much corn en wheat, a
durned sight too many kyows en hosses ; en the four-
legged critters chaws up what the two-legged critters
gathers in. It air wus nor dog eat dog, seein' ez how
the four-legged critters air livin' on the fat o' the land
while the pore planters air livin' on spar' ribs en hens
with sinoos ez tough ez b'iled owels."

"But it makes a great difference when a man has
a family to support and educate," remarked my
mother, thinking of the responsibility of parents.

" I allow readin' en writin' air a good thing if ye've
got any figurin' to do ; but cipherin's a drefful load on
the mind. Thar's Si Jordan yander ; he sets figurin'
o' nights, en calculatin' te see jes' how he'll come out
at the end o' the year ; but I allers say to myself he's
like the groun'-hog, he won't come out."

" Still, it would be awkward to have to calculate
with nothing but your fingers," observed my father,
smiling.

" Fingers or no fingers, book-larnin' don't make a
man no better than he war in a state o' natur'. Them
as reads newspapers knows too much 'bout other
folks's sins en not 'nough 'bout thar own. Over
Decatur en Fancy Creek way they built meetin'-
houses with steeples on 'em, en the wimin-folks tuck
te wearin' store clothes en the men-folks put on b'iled
shirts. Eut when the comet come into view the
wimin put on their ole sun-bonnets, allowin' pink
calico te be more'n enough te be j edged in."

My mother, as she looked up from her knitting,
thought his round grey eyes seemed bigger and
rounder than ever. She noticed in his face an

44 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

expression of nai've irony and unconscious satire which
she had not remarked before. But later there radiated
from his face a sense of pity when he thought of all
the hard work she would have to do. In some un-
accountable way he had come into touch with the
unexpressed hopes and fears of the silent man sitting
before him, and the pale, passive face of his wife, who
was knitting.

Then, as if struck with a sudden, new idea, he
said : —

" Ye kin divide the day's doin's into two passels—
the happenin's en the fac's; en thar ain't but two
leadin' fac's in all creation — bein' born en bein' dead.
Howsomever, right in betwixt 'em thar's some purty
lively happenin's a steppin' roun' on all fours, ez
when a panther takes a notion te drap on a pig's back ;
it's a shore thing fer the panther but a dead loss fer
the owner. En it air jest ez sartin the fact air plumb
agin the pig, but he don't live long 'nough te know
it. Thar's been a suddin burial, en the mourner kin
see the fact, but he ain't never see the corpse. Any-
how, it's an argimint thet'll work itself out ez easy
ez a groun'-worm arter rain, en it don't make no
pertickler difference which end comes up fust, heads
en tails bein' purty nigh ekil."

My father enjoyed a hearty laugh, and my mother
stopped knitting and eyed Socrates as if trying to
fathom the secret of his strange originality.

" It beats my time all holler/' he went on, " te see
folks so kind o' waverin' en onsartin. Instead o'
waitin' fer the last hour they make fer it with thar
heads down like a bull agin a red flag, en no tail-
twistin' ;11 stop ;em. Thar's skasely a settler among

SOCRATES GIVES ADVICE 45

the new uns but what'll tell ye they air workin' te
live. It air workin' te die, thet's what /call it."

" Thar's a good many workin7 land they ain't got
no title to/' remarked Ebenezer Hicks.

" When I go te meetin' en hear some o' these
settlers sing about readin' thar title cl'ar te mansions
in the skies I allers feel like askin' 'em how they're
holdin' on te the land they got ; kase thar ain't but
two kyinds o' settlers — them ez buys right out, and
them ez squats right down, en I've allers found thet
hymn air a dead favourite among the people thet set
right down jes whar thar feet begin te swell.

" What I know 'bout Bible-teachin' air plumb agin'
squatters takin' up land t'other side Jordan. The
Lord God hez issued a writ statin' His objections. I
ain't never knowed a real live Yankee thet war any
good at squattin'. They come from below the Ohio,
whar they hev seen the niggers do all the work. En
when they come up to this kintry they sing about
readin' thar title cl'ar te big slices o' land in the nex'
world ! I tell ye what it is, if thar's ever goin' te be
war it'll be betwix' them thet wants the land fer
nothin' en them thet wants it fer sunthin', if it ain't
fer more'n shootin' snipe en plover. The squatters
air lazy ; en t'other folks, like the Squar hyar, air
killin' tharselves by doin' too much.

" My ole daddy larnt me te go through this
gorrowin' vale like the varmints do — easy en nat'ral
like, never gallopin' when ye kin lope, en never lopin'
when ye kin lay down. It's a heap easier. Thar
ain't a hog but knows he kin root fer a livin' if ye
give him a fair show ; thar ain't a squirrel but knows
how te stow away 'nough te nibble on when he wakes

46 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

up en finds his blood's kinder coolin' down en things
is p'intin' te zero."

After a pause he looked hard at my father, and put
the question abruptly :

" What '11 ye do, Squar, when ye plough up the prairie
thar nex' year, en sow it with corn ez ye calc'late on
doin' ? How d'ye low yell git all the work done
'thout extry hands ? "

It was an unexpected query that left my father
without an immediate answer. He had never given
the subject any serious thought.

Socrates continued without waiting for explanations :

" Yell hev a heap o' corn-huskin' te do, en ye
suttinly ain't a-goin' te reckon on thet leetle lady with
them hands o7 her'n doin' much corn-huskin' en sech.
Tears like shell hev more'n enough te keep her
a-goin' right in the house."

My mother was thinking : " The Lord's will be
done. He had a reason for sending us here ; some
day we may know why"

Socrates resumed :

"Hirin' extry hands means payin' out a lot o' money;
mebbe yer purse-strings air like yer latch- string, en
mebbe ye got a plenty te last ye till nex' harvest
time. Things ain't like they war ; folks useter come
twenty mile to a corn-huskin', en the doin's ud end up
with eatin' en drinkin' en dancin'. Now people air
too busy with thar own funerals. They useter help
other people work tharselves to death ; now they stay
at home en dig thar own graves 'thout borrowing
shovels er sendin' fer a fiddler te help 'em mourn with
thar tired feet. I keep sayin' the comet may pass
over 'thout drappin' ; but if the politicioners, en the

SOCKATES GIVES ADVICE 47

lawyers, en them ez sez they don't know nothing en
the hordes o' settlers thet cain't tell the difference
betwix' a yaller dog en a long-eared rabbit ain't
a-bringin' the world to a spot stop, then Zack
Caverly hez missed fire, en it'll be the fust time."

" As for that," said my father, " it certainly does
look as if some great change would soon come over
the country. Many are turning to religion for conso-
lation, while others predict civil war."

" I see some cussed mean folks pretendin' te hev
religion. Some on 'em air thet deceivin' I allers feel
like watchnr em with a spy-glass till they git into
the woods en then sendin' my ole hound arter 'em te
see they don't commit bigamy er hang themselves
right on my diggings. "

" Wai," said Ebenezer Hicks, who had been listen-
ing attentively, " I 'low ye've tetched a festern sore
when ye say some on 'em air ekil te committin' treason
en blasphemy, but ez fer me I hev allers been a
church member ; but some folks ain't never satisfied
te leave things ez they wur. It's my opinion all the
trouble hez come about in the Church by them busy-
bodies mixin' up religion with politics. Abolition hez
been a bone o' contention en a skewer through both
wings o' the Methodists. You war thar when Azariah
James preached thet sermon, windin' up by h'istin' the
Abolition flag, en you too, Squar, en you heared what
he said."

" Ye'll allow he hed all creation te h'ist on,"
remarked Socrates; " the stars en stripes te begin
with, two kyinds o' lawyers en four kyinds o'
preachers — all on 'em offn whisky. T'other party
ain't got no flag, but thar whisky makes 'em see

48 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

the stars en they make the niggers feel the
stripes.7'

Ebenezer Hicks, wishing to turn the conversation,
simply observed :

" Over at Bloomington en Springfield the people
air all fer Lincoln."

But Socrates held to the subject and went on :

" What beats my time is te know what you folks
hez te do with the nigger question anyway. Did ye
ever own any slaves ? "

" Nary a one."

" Wai, then, what difference does it make te you
whether they work ez slaves er work ez we uns work ?
Looks like ye belong te them thet's pinin' away kase
ye ain't got sorrers enough o' yer own te hitch to.
When we all heared Azariah James preach — the on'y
time the meetin' -house hez been open all summer
— I see right away we'd got plumb into the middle o'
the Abolition circus en someone ud turn a somerset
afore he got through. Fact is, the people o' this here
State air a-gittin' ready te send Abe Lincoln te Wash-
ington, en ole Buchanan's jes' keepin' the presidential
cheer from warpin' till Abe comes."

" That preacher, Azariah James," said my father,
" was not such a fool as some of the congregation
thought he was."

"Not nigh," returned Socrates, as he rose from his
seat and took his leave.

A few days after his visit my mother remarked :

" Now, I suppose, we shall not have any more
visitors for a long time. There are days when I wish
someone would call, and somehow I have been thinking
a good deal of Mrs. Jordan lately. I should like a

SOCKATES GIVES ADVICE 49

visit from her more than from anyone else I know
just at present."

That same afternoon, as I was returning to the
house from the hollow where I had been gathering
hazel-nuts, I thought I could discern a stranger
through the window. I entered the house and found
Kezia Jordan seated in the rocking-chair.

Once more her presence opened the door to a world
that transcended all the familiar forms of speech ; for
it was not what she said, but what she looked, that
impressed me so profoundly.

Moulded and subdued by the lonely days, the
monotonous weeks, the haunting hush of the silent
nights, and the same thoughts and images returning
again and again, she appeared as one who had con-
quered the world of silence. Elihu Gest partly
explained himself by his explanation of others, but
Kezia Jordan made few comments, and they were
rarely personal. She never talked for the sake of
talking. As she sat there she might have been a
statue, for to-day she brought with her an inexorable
detachment from worldly thoughts and influences.

The sentiments she inspired in me were like those
produced by the motion of clouds on a calm moon-
light night, or the falling of leaves on a still, dreamy
day of Indian summer. There were moments when
her presence seemed to possess something preternatural,
when she imparted to others an extraordinary and
superhuman quietude. Her spirit, freed for ever from
the trammels and tumults of the world, seemed heed-
less of the passing moments, resigned to every secret
and mandate of destiny ; for hers was a freedom which
was not attained in a single battle — the conflict was

v.s. • B

50 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

begun by her ancestors when they landed at Plymouth
Rock. In the tribulations that followed the succes-
sive generations were stripped of the superfluities of
life. One by one vanities and illusions fell from the
fighters like shattered muskets and tattered garments.
Each generation, stripped of the tinsel, became
acquainted with the folly of plaints and the futility of
protests. Little by little the pioneers began to under-
stand, and in the last generation of all there resulted
a knowledge too deep for discussion and a wisdom too
great for idle misgivings.

Where was the hurried visitor from foreign lands
who could sound the depths of such a soul ?

The influences were different when Mrs. Busby
came to the Log-House. She brought with her
pleasant maxims about her bakings, her messes, and
herb-medicines, and talked on and on without caring
what the subject was. She created commotion and
movement, and under her hands the kettle hissed and
spouted.

Mrs. Jordan handled things as if they had life and
feeling, and without being conscious of influencing
others she brought with her a power that penetrated
to the core of things. She had passed the time when
her duties had to be accomplished by the aid of a
strenuous use of the reasoning faculties. She had
arrived at that stage when religion was not a thing of
reason, but a state of perpetual feeling. Circum-
Btances altered, conditions changed and found her the
same, unaltered and unalterable.

Yet she had her day-dreams, moments of rapt
meditation which bordered on forge tfulness, when
the formless visions and homely realities of kitchen,

SOCKATES GIVES ADVICE 51

meeting-house, and prairie became one, and the song
of the blackbird and the chirping of the cricket
seemed a part of her own life and feeling. She pos-
sessed the dominant influence of an abiding power
with a total absence of self-assertion, for hers was that
true power of the soul, an influence that penetrates
to depths which intellect alone can never reach.

I thought the rocking-chair was made for Kezia
Jordan, and the rag- carpet too, and somehow I could
never quite free my mind from the impression that
the flowers about the house were hers as well.

Soon after my arrival a rap was heard at the door,
and in walked Minerva Wagner, proud, lean, wrinkled,
and unbending. She came within the category of
those who, according to Zack Caverly, were labouring
under the necessity of borrowing trouble. She had
not yet recovered from the shock produced by the
Abolition sermon of the preacher, Azariah James.
Mrs. Wagner was our nearest neighbour to the north,
and every time I glanced in that direction I would
marvel at the listless, lonely life of the family in the
little frame house stuck like a white speck on the
brow of the prairie, ten times more lonely and isolated
than the Log-House we inhabited. Whenever I saw
someone moving about over there I thought of a tomb
opening its doors and letting out an imprisoned ghost;
for every member of the family looked and walked and
talked alike, except, perhaps, old Minerva Wagner,
who stood to-day facing the inexorable present, stern,
relentless, unable to account for anything she saw or
heard, but choking with prejudice against what she
persisted in calling " the Yankee trash of Indianny
and Illinoise."

E 2

52 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

After some talk about pickles and bacon and apple-
butter, and some allusion to the awful state of the
country, brought on by the Anti-Slavery agitation,
Mrs. Wagner took her departure, and once more the
room assumed the calm, peaceful aspect commensurate
with Kezia Jordan's presence. My mother made tea,
and the moments passed as if there were no clock
ticking the time away and no regrets for the old
days that would never return; and when at last
Mrs. Jordan rose from her seat she looked more
slender than ever in her simple dress of copperas-
coloured jean ; and when the clouds parted and the
setting sun shone full on the windows, her spare figure
cast a shadow that fell across the rag-carpet, and there,
under her feet, were strips of coloured cloth, the
counterpart of her own dress, and it seemed as if she
had always belonged to the Log-House and ought
never to leave it.

CHAPTEE V

SILAS JORDAN'S ILLNESS

THE solemn hush of the wilderness had its voices
of bird and insect, wind, rain, and rustling grass ; but
from the song of birds and grasshoppers to the noise-
less march of the comet was a far and terrible cry, and
more than one head of a family, seeing its approach
nearer and nearer to the earth, sat with folded hands
awaiting the end. While it frightened some into
silence it made others loquacious, while others again
could not help laughing at the comical figure some of
the frightened ones assumed.

No sooner did Silas Jordan see the comet than a
great fear seized him, and he sat down in the kitchen,
a millstone of desolation holding him in his seat.

Hardly a day passed that I did not run up to the
Jordans', and on this evening, instead of hearing Mrs.
Jordan singing one of her favourite hymns, I listened
to a monologue which contained a note of sadness.

When Kezia came in with a chicken which she had
just killed and was about to scald and pluck, a glance
at her husband told her of the great and sudden
change.

" Dear me, suss ! Zack Caverly said ye'd be apt
to feel a touch o' fever when ye broke that piece o'
land down by the Log-House."

She expected an answer, but none came, and she
went on :

54 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

" I don't know what we'll do with so much work
waitin' to be done."

She took from the highest shelf in the cupboard a
large box of quinine pills and offered Silas two, but
he refused them with a stubborn shake of the head.

Mrs. Jordan put the box aside and began to pluck the
chicken with a will that might have inspired her hus-
band with courage had he noticed what she was doing.

" It ain't no use givin' way and broodin' over yer
feelin's," she said, quietly.

Alek came in and told his mother a comet was to
be seen, and she stepped to the door to look.

She had heard the rumours and prophecies, but they
left her indifferent. Her deep religious faith made
it impossible for her to worry when worry seemed
almost a sin, and it never occurred to her that Silas
was not ill of malaria, but of fear and despair.

" Pap's ailin'," said Alek. "If he ain't no better
to-morrer I'll go fer that yarb doctor that cured
Ebenezer Hicks o' them faintin' spells."

He had a horror of long illnesses, and would call in a
" doctor " at the slightest sign of a break-up in health.

The next day I was at the Jordan home again, this
time with tempting eatables for the invalid, who,
however, refused everything.

The doctor arrived shortly after; then, on his heels,
came Socrates, who, when he saw the doctor's horse
and saddle-bags, guessed there was something wrong
with the Jordan household.

The doctor was looking about the room like a rabbit
let loose in a strange place. Lank and bony, clothed
in blue jeans, he looked a picture of unsophisticated
ignorance.

SILAS JOEDAN'S ILLNESS 56

" My husband's ailin'," said Mrs. Jordan, as she
took a chair and placed it before Silas for the doctor.

" How long's he been feelin' this a- way?" he asked,
in a drawling voice as he sat down and took hold of
the patient's limp hand.

" Sence yesterday."

"Chills en fever, I reckon," he said, looking at
Silas with a blank stare.

" He ain't had any chills," returned Mrs. Jordan.

" Ain't hed no pin-feather feelins ? "

" I don't reckon he hez."

" No chatterin' o' the teeth ? "

"Not ez I know of."

" Been wanderin' in his mind ? "

" Not ez I know of."

" Ain't felt overly het up ? "

" I guess not."

" Then I reckon it's dumb ague," concluded the
doctor at his wits' end.

" I guess it is," said Kezia, " fer he ain't spoke a
word sence he was took."

The doctor now asked to see the patient's tongue,
and after much persuasion Silas slowly put out the tip,
then closed his jaws with a smart snap.

" Mighty peert for a man thet cain't talk," observed
Zack Caverly. But the doctor, more and more be-
wildered, simply nodded his head, and then moved his
chair back several paces as if to be well out of the reach
of a patient who might suddenly do him an injury.

He looked fixedly at the little wiry-faced man, not
knowing what to say or do.

Suddenly a thought struck him.

" Hez he ever hed quare idees ? "

56 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

"I don't know thet he hez, 'ceptin' lie's been
figurin' on jest how long it would take to buy out the
folks at the big Log-House."

" En ye say he ain't et no vittles sence yestiddy ? "

"Not a morsel."

The doctor considered for a while, pulled at his
goatee, and said :

" I 'low his symptomania air summat confoundin',
but jest at this pertickler p'int whar, ez ye might
say, the fever hez kinder thawed out the chills, en
the chills hez sorter nipped the fever in the bud, both
on 'em hev been driv' in. They're a-fightin' it out
on the liver, en a man ain't calc'lated te know jest
how things air a-workin' up on the inside."

" Will it last long ? " demanded Alek.

"Wai, thar ain't no cause te be frustrated. T'other
day I see a man over B'ar Creek way thet rolled on
the floor fer nigh an hour, en I'm doggoned if the chills
en fever didn't stay right whar they war. His wife
allowed I hed giv' him too much senna en calomel,
but it takes a powerful sight te make 'em go different
ways — more pertickler when the chills air dumb."

The doctor, after ordering huge doses of calomel
and quinine, shuffled awkwardly out, and Socrates
took Silas Jordan's hand and considered for a moment.
Then, looking about the room, he observed :

" If chills means bein' cold, he ain't got no chills,
en if fever means bein' hot, he ain't got no fever."

"What hez he, then?" inquired Alek, with a
startled look.

" He's got the funks ! "

" I want to know ! " exclaimed Kezia, rising to
face the new situation.

SILAS JORDAN'S ILLNESS 57

Alek, appalled at the sound of a word he had
never heard till now, gasped out :

" Is it ketchin' ? "

" Ketchin' ! I'd like te see ye ketch a weazil in a
haystack," observed Zack Caverly.

Mrs. Jordan looked at one and then at the other,
but before she had time to say anything further, in
came Uriah Busby.

He had come in a great hurry.

Of middle age, somewhat portly, and slightly bald,
he now looked ten years older than when I saw him
at the meeting-house. To-day his face wore a haggard
and woe-begone expression.

Uriah Busby had come to find out what his practical,
cool-headed neighbour, Silas Jordan, thought of the
comet.

" Glad to see ye," was Kezia's gentle greeting.

She handed him a chair, and Uriah sat down,
heaved a deep sigh, and began to wipe his perspiring
head and face with his big handkerchief.

" No," resumed Socrates, where he had left off ;
" he ain't sick, he's only skeered."

Uriah Busby could hardly believe his ears. He
had come, thinking that Silas Jordan would have
some counsel of hope to offer, and there he sat scared
into helplessness !

Nevertheless, Uriah felt called upon to say something :

" These be times of great affliction. It looks like
the preacher war plumb right, en the Lord's hand is
stretched agin us."

" Mebbe ye're right," interrupted Socrates; "but ez
fur ez I kin see the Lord ain't tetched any of ye with
more'n a thumb en forefinger."

58 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

The eyes of the invalid were now wide open ; he sat
bolt upright as if shaking off the effects of a horrid
nightmare, and blurted out :

" Arter all, like ez not it ain't a-comin' our way ! "

Uriah Busby pointed upward, his voice tremulous
with emotion :

" Mebbe its only a sign o' grace fer the elect."

But Socrates simply remarked : " It's a sign ye've
been settin' on a chinee egg like a wet hen, en it's
'bout time ye war up en dustin'."

Kezia's dark face was all aglow ; she looked as if
she had no words to express what she felt,

Uriah Busby's confusion increased with every
remark that came from Socrates, who seemed to expose
everyone's secret.

" It's jest ez ye say," he stammered at last ; " if the
Lord's willin' it's our dooty te work en not te set
waitin'."

" En he's been settin' there ever sence he was took,"
said Mrs. Jordan.

" Tears like ye'll hev te pull him up like ye would
a gympsum-weed," added Socrates. " Mebbe thet
med'cine man hez got more sense then I lowed he
had ; mebbe ez like ez not Si needs a thunderin' big
shakin', en if we'll jes' set te work we kin bring him
te rights. Did ye ever see a b'ar come out arter the
fust big thaw, hoppin' roun' on two legs, this a- way,
gettin' his sinoos sorter stretched en his blood sorter
warmed up ? "

He began to imitate a dancing bear, stepping first
on one leg, then on the other, swaying, nodding, and
bending his head, with comical glances at Silas.

" Do like mister b'ar ; shake yerself ! "

SILAS JOKDAN'S ILLNESS 59

And with this he pulled the invalid out of his seat
with a sudden jerk, forcing him round and round,
dancing, bending, and hopping, with growls and
grimaces to harmonise with his bruin-like antics.

" Keep it up," shouted Uriah Busby ; " it'll do him
a heap o' good."

Socrates kept up the hopping and swaying until
Silas Jordan was exhausted and Alek's fear had
changed into a broad grin that was almost laughter ;
and hardly had the mad dance ceased when Silas
asked for fried chicken, the chicken which Kezia had
killed and dressed and kept for some such occasion.

"The ways o' the Lord air past findin' out,"
remarked Uriah, wiping his face.

When the chicken was ready Silas walked about
picking a wing which he held in both hands.

"He's ez hungry ez a wolf, I do declare," said
Kezia in a half -whisper, as she went about her duties,
relieved of the long strain of watching and waiting.
Then she added :

" I never see his ekil ! "

"I 'low ye never did, Sister Jordan," rejoined
Socrates; "but ye're mistaken in the varmint — ye
mean he's ez hungry ez a catamount ! "

CHAPTER VI

THE CABIN OF SOCRATES

" SONNY," said my father one afternoon, " you can
come with me and you will have a chance of seeing
Socrates, for I am to call at his cabin to see a drover
on some business."

I accepted the invitation with joy, for I never
tired of hearing Zack Caverly talk ; even to sit and
look at him was to me a great treat.

Socrates was sitting at his cabin door, smoking,
dreaming, and listening to what strange sounds might
reach him from the woods. As he sat there he felt
himself detached from the world, yet near enough to
human beings to have all the society he desired. He
thought of the new settlers, their troubles and vexa-
tions, and he wondered how many of them were as
free from care as himself.

Under the cabin the hounds were sleeping, all
cuddled up, and now, after a somewhat busy and
exciting day, Nature seemed more intimate and satis-
fying than ever. Age brought with it less and less
ambition, less and less desire to do useless things, to
speculate about vain theories and impending political
events. To the mind of Socrates worry and ambition
were unnatural and foolish things, and eternity meant
to-day.

As he sat at his door he felt at home in the universe.
The wilderness was his kingdom ; his subjects, the

THE CABIN OF SOCKATES 61

birds and beasts ; his friends, the hound and his rifle ;
and he rode out among the settlers like a king on a
tour of inspection, with advice here and a greeting of
encouragement where it was needed, and when he
returned to his cabin, peace and contentment issued
forth from every log.

His cabin was his palace. A huge stag's head
nailed over the entrance might have been taken for a
coat-of-arms in the rough, while inside another set of
antlers adorned the chimney -place. From the rafters
hung the pelt of fox and wild cat ; a low couch was
covered with a buffalo robe, and on the floor were
some old skins of the black bear. Several trophies of
the wolf were stretched on nails, and strings of Indian
corn hanging about here and there made the inside of
the cabin a picture of indolence and activity.

Zack Caverly was the last of his peculiar mode of
life in this part of the country, and towns and rail-
roads would soon put an end to such a mode of living.

The cabin adjoined a deep wood not far from a
creek, with the prairie in front, and from his door not
a house could be seen.

Socrates had been here some twenty-five years, and
knew the history of every family within a radius of
many miles : their peculiarities, virtues, and vices.
He could sum up the powers and failings of a new-
comer at a glance. As for himself, he knew where
his food would come from for a year, good weather or
bad ; he knew the work required at his hands, using
his own time and pleasure in doing it. For often
when the weather was fine, and the ground dry, he
would spend whole days hunting in the bottoms, many
miles from home. He ploughed when it suited him,

62 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

and reaped much in the same way. He read no books,
did not belong to any religious sect, never had been
to school, and, owing to his wanderings in his younger
days, had no prejudices.

He knew the haunts and habits of all the animals
and birds of field and forest, and the time to expect
certain wild flowers ; and he had his own weather
signs. He loved everything wild, regarding his
solitary mode of life as the most natural thing in
the world.

As the days and hours came and went, so he
passed from one mood to another without being
conscious of any change, without grief or regret,
rising in the morning and lying down at night with
the same feeling of security and contentment. And
principally for this reason he was welcomed every-
where, bringing with him an atmosphere of mental
vigour and confidence at a time when these forces
were so much needed. His mind was on the present;
thus no time was lost in idle sorrow for events of
yesterday.

It was nearly dusk when we arrived at the cabin,
and my father had not long to wait for the drover.
Soon after Socrates set about getting us supper of
bacon, eggs, hoe-cakes, and coffee, which we ate with
keen appetites.

Shortly after supper was over Elihu Gest, the Load-
Bearer, came driving up, and hitched his team to one
of the logs near the door. He was on his way home
from the post-office.

"I war kinder moved te come aroun' en see ye,"
he said.

" Right glad ye come ; ye 're allers welcome ez long

THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 63

ez I'm alive en kickin'," answered Socrates, with his
usual good humour.

" The feelin' come jest ez I got te the cross-roads,
thar by Ebenezer Hicks's cornfield."

Just then Lem Stephens rode up.

Socrates had come out to greet the Load-Bearer, and
the three men sat down on the logs while I sat at one
side. My father and the drover were inside discussing
some matters of business.

But oh ! how shall I depict the company outside ?
the objects fading in the deepening dusk, the stars
growing brighter every moment, the stillness broken
now and again by the cries of the whip-poor-will and
the conversation of the three men !

After a long spell of cloudy weather the sky had
cleared ; the air was warm and dry, and when dark-
ness closed in the night came with a revelation.
Never in that region had such a night been seen by
living man, for a comet hung suspended in the
shimmering vault, like an immense silver arrow,
dominating the world and all the constellations.

An unparalleled radiance illumined the prairie in
front of the cabin ; the atmosphere vibrated with a
strange, mysterious glow; and as the eye looked
upward it seemed as if the earth was moving slowly
towards the stars.

The sky resembled a phantasmagoria seen from
the summit of some far and fabulous Eden. The
Milky Way spread across the zenith like a confluence
of celestial altars flecked with myriads of gleaming
tapers, and countless orbs rose out of the luminous
veil like fleecy spires tipped with the blaze of opal and
sapphire.

64 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

The great stellar clusters appeared like beacons on
the shores of infinite worlds, and night was the window
from which the soul looked out on eternity.

The august splendour of the heavens, the atmosphere,
palpitating with the presence of the All-ruling Spirit,
diffused a feeling of an inscrutable power reaching
out from the starry depths, enveloping the whole
world in mystery.

I sat and gazed in awe and silence.

Socrates was quietly smoking a corn-cob pipe, while
Elihu Gest, rapt in wonder, contemplated the heavens
as if seeking an answer to his innermost thoughts.

" I knowed we war clost to it," he exclaimed at
last, referring to the comet ; " the hand o' the Lord
air p'intin' straight ! "

He stopped to meditate again, and no one broke
the silence for some little time.

Then he proceeded :

" I've seen it afore, but never like this. 'Pears
like over around here the hull heavings air clairer,
and the stars look like they war nigher the y earth."

" Be you on risin' groun' ? " asked Lem Stephens,
addressing Socrates.

" Not onless it's riz sence we've been settin' here."

" I allowed ye warn't," said Lem; " but I thought
mebbe I war mistaken. "

" It's the feelin's a man hez when mericles air
a-bein' worked," said the Load-Bearer, with familiar
confidence. " A man's thoughts en feelin's ain't
noways the same when the Lord begins te manifest
His power. He ain't afeared te show His hand ; but
I ain't never see a kyard-player thetll let ye look at
his kyards."

THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 65

" 'Kase it air we uns thet do the shufflin'," observed
Socrates; " Providence allers leads and allers wins.
But some o' these settlers knows what spades air, I
reckon."

"En some 11 suttinly know what clubs air if they
keep on with thar nigger stealing " spoke up Lem
Stephens.

To this the Load-Bearer paid no attention. His
thoughts were on the signs of the times and the man
who was to lead in the great struggle.

" Thar's a new dispensation a-comin'," he said with
calm conviction ; " but it warn't made plain what it
ud be till I heerd Abe Lincoln en Steve Douglas
discussin' some p'ints o' law fer the fust time. When
I heerd Lincoln war a-goin' te speak I sez : ' Now's
yer time. If ye miss this chance ye won't mebbe hev
another.' When I got thar I see Jedge Douglas war
'p'inted te opin the meetin'."

" Thet give ye a chance te see how the leetle giant
ud look along side o' the six-footer," interrupted
Socrates. " When I heerd the Jedge he give chapter
en verse for every hole he bored in the Eepublican
plank; but when Abe Lincoln riz up he held some
thunderin' big Abolition nails te plug 'em with.
Teared like he ez much ez sez te Steve Douglas:
' You jes' keep on borin' en I'll do the drivin' ; it's a
heap easier ; fer when you fellers git through borin'
I'll hev my plank nailed te the constitution o' this
hull kintry ! ' "

"I low Steve Douglas hed the law on his side,"
rejoined Elihu Gest ; " but lawyer Lincoln hedn't been
speakin' more'n ten minutes afore I see he war a-bein'
called on, en 'peared like I could hear the words,

V.S. F

66 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

' jedgment, jedgment ! ' a-soundin' in the air ; en if all
the prairies o' this here State hed been sot on fire, I'd
a-sot thar till he'd a-spoke the last word ! "

" Shucks ! " exclaimed Socrates ; " I don't reckon
Steve Douglas keers ; but I 'spect he see it warn't no
use sassin' back."

Lem Stephens struck the log several hard, quick
blows with his wooden leg.

" But laws! What kin words en book-lamin' do
agin the Ten Commandments ? " ejaculated the Load-
Bearer.

" I reckon Jedge Douglas war rely in' on saft sodder ;
but it won't hold the spout te the kittle if the fire's
anyways over het and the water's inos' b'iled away,"
said Socrates.

" Ez I war a-goin' te say," continued Elihu Gest,
" 't ain't words ez counts ez much ez it air the feelin's.
A politician's 'bout the same in this here ez a
preacher : he hez te possess the sperit if he wants the
power. Accordin' te my thinkin' he hez te throw it
out till it kivers the hull meetin'."

"I b'lieve ye're right," assented Socrates non-
chalantly. " I've heared the leetle giant more'n
oncet, en I low he did look spry en plump, en ez
boundin' ez a rubber ball. But it ain't the hoss thet
jumps the highest thet kin carry the furdest, en I
reckon a man's got te be convicted hisself afore he
convicts ary other."

" The sperit air more in th' eye than it air in the
tongue," said Elihu Gest, rising from his seat ; "if
Abe Lincoln looked at the wust slave-driver long
enough, Satan would give up every time."

" Tears like ye're right," observed Socrates again.

THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 67

The Load - Bearer continued, with increasing
emphasis :

"I see right away the difference a-twixt Lincoln
en Douglas warn't so much in Lincoln bein' a good
ways over six foot en Douglas a good ways under, ez
it war in thar eyes. The Jedge looked like he war
speakin' agin time, but Abe Lincoln looked plumb
through the meetin' into the Everlastin' — the way
Moses must hev looked when he see Canaan ahead —
en I kin tell ye I never did see a man look thet
a-way."

" The Jedge is some pum'kins fer squeezin' hisself
in, but I reckon the six-footer hez got the rulin' hand
this time."

" They're at the cross-roads ! " ejaculated Lem
Stephens; " but them thar Abolitionists air in a
howlin' wilderness, en the partin' o' the ways don't
lead nowheres ; thar ain't no sign-posts, not in this
'ere case. I've been lost more'n oncet by takin' the
wrong road jes' when I felt dead sartin I war on the
right track. Gee whizz ! I kin take ye te a place
over near Edwardsville whar nothin' walkin' on two
legs kin tell the difference a-twixt the p'ints in com-
pass on a cloudy day ; en even when the sun's
a-shinin' ye've got te smell the way jes' like a hound,
fer seem' don't do no good.

"I'll tell ye what it is, in this 'ere business whar
politics is right on the cross-roads they want sunthin'
more'n two eyes te see with. A man's got te know
whar he's a-goin'. I see an Injun oncet put his ear
te the groun' te tell which road te take. Arter a
while he got up, give his breast a thump, en struck
out ez if he war a blood-hound arter a nigger. En

F 2

68 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

don't ye go te thinkin' he tuck the wrong road
neither. How d'ye allow they air goin' te free the
niggers ? They ain't got no weepons, en the slave-
owners air a sight cuter with shootin'-irons nur the
Abolitionists be. Ever sence Daniel Boone settled
t'other side the Ohio the white folks o' the South hev
been aimin' at movin' targets — all kyinds o' birds en
varmints, fly in' en runnin', includin' niggers en Injuns."

" Ez fer settin' on 'em free," said the Load-Bearer,
" I ain't allowin' nothin' but God Almighty's hand ;
en shorely with thet comet up yander we air movin'
into conflictin' times. If I hed any doubts my mind
war set at rest when I heared Abe Lincoln speak ; if
he hed jes' riz up en looked at the folks they would
a-felt his power jes' the same."

" I've seen him," said Zack Caverly, " when he
played mournin' tunes on their heart-strings till they
mourned with the mourners."

Elihu Gest straightened himself up, and the tone of
his voice changed.

" But somehow it 'peared like Abe Lincoln would
hev such loads ez no man ever carried sence Christ
walked in Israel. When I went over fer to hear him
things looked mighty onsartin; 'peared like I hed
more'n I could stand up under ; but he hadn't spoke
more'n ten minutes afore I felt like I never hed no
loads. I begin te feel ashamed o' bein' weary en com-
plainin'. When I went te hear him I 'lowed the Lord
might let me carry some loads away, but I soon see
Abe Lincoln war ekil te carry his'n en mine too, en I
sot te wonderin' 'bout the workin's o' Providence.

"But ye war only listenin' to an Abolitionist
a-stumpin' this hull tarnation kedentry," remarked

THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 69

Lem Stephens with all the bitterness he could put
into the words.

" Arter all, I reckon religion en politics air 'bout
the same," broke in Socrates.

" Sin in politics," answered the Load-Bearer, " air
ekil te sin in religion — thar ain't no dividin' line,"
a remark which made Lem Stephens begin a loud
and prolonged tattoo on the log with his wooden
stump.

"Pete Cart wright," he blurted out, "hez allers
been agin Abe Lincoln; how d'ye kyount for it ? "

" I 'low brother Cartwright hez worked a heap o'
good ez a preacher," was the cool reply of Elihu Gest,
" but things ain't a-goin' te be changed by preachin'
alone. There'll be fire en brimstone fer some, er that
blazin' star up yander don't mean nothin', en thar ain't
no truth in the Scriptur's."

There were sounds as of something rushing through
the underbrush and the crackling of dry timber some
distance away, and when I looked in that direction I
saw what seemed a faint flash of a lantern. One of
the hounds under the cabin gave signs of uneasiness.

The Load-Bearer continued, lowering his voice :

" I feel like I did afore the war with Mexico, 'cept
we didn't see no comet then."

" They did make a confounded fuss over thet war,"
observed Socrates, " en I remember Clay en Calhoun
having it hot over sunthin' er nuther ; both on 'em
faced the music fer a reelin' breakdown. Clay sez to
Calhoun, ' Ye've been expoundin' a p'int o' law I ain't
never diskivered in the book o' statues. Yer argiments
air shaky, en yer jedgmints air ez splashy ez the
Mississippi in flood-time. The hull nation's cavin'

70 THE VALLEl ~* bHADOWS

in, en thar ain't a man among ye knows 'nough te
plug things up en stop the leakin'.

" But Calhoun put the question ez peert ez a blue-
jay : 4 What's a-leakin ? ' sez he ; i tain't the ship o'
State, it's the whisky barrel.'

" l Jes' so,' says Henry Clay, ez sassy ez a cat-bird in
nestin' time ; ' you en yer party hev knocked the plug
out, but me en my party air a-goin' te double dam
thet leakin.'

" Old Hickory I see oncet at a Methodist meetin'.
Pete Cart wright war a-preachin' when Old Hickory
walked in. The presidin' elder sez te the preacher :
1 Thet's Andrew Jackson ' ; but Pete Cartwright didn't
noways keer. ' Who's Andrew Jackson ? ' he sez. ' If
he's a sinner God'll damn him the same ez He would
a Guinea nigger.' En he went right on preachin'."

"Thar's nothin' I despise so much ez an Abolition
Methodist," ejaculated Lem Stephens. " Tar en
feathers air a heap too good fer some on 'em."

This remark was evidently intended for the Load-
Bearer, but he seemed not to hear.

" When ye're corn-huskin'," said Socrates, uye put
on gloves, but ye take 'em off when ye're gropin'
roun' for sinners' souls. Some preachers en politicioners
take holt like they war the hounds en the people a
passel o' varmints. But a preacher thet knows what
he's about allers takes the p'ints iv a meetin' like he
would the p'ints iv a horse. He hez te spy out the
kickers en the balky ones, en wust iv all, them thet's
half mustang en half mule, en act accordin'.

" I 'low a man kin do a sight with flowin' words en
saft soap, but ez fer the mules en cross-breeds, saft
soap won't tetch 'em."

THE CABIN OF SOCEATES 71

"I agree with ye thar, brother Caverly," said the
Load-Bearer ; " when the meetings anyways conflictin'
it air mighty hard te deal with the Word : some wants
singing some wants preachin', en some wants prayin'."

" I reckon it air ez ye say ; but ye might ez well
send a retriever arter dead ducks with a tin kittle tied
te his tail ez te try te land some sinners with a long
string o' prayers. A man's got te roll up en wade in
hisself if he wants te find them thet's been winged.
"When folks sets en blinks like brown owels, 'thout
flappin' a wing er losin' a feather, I want te know
what a pore preacher kin do ! 'Tain't easy te tell
who's been tetched."

" Thar's a sight o' difference a-twixt what a preacher
hez te do en what a politician hez," answered Elihu
Gest. " A preacher hez te wrastle with the sin's o'
the world every time he stands afore the people."

" Ye see," continued Zack Caverly, filling his pipe,
"the 'sponsibility ain't the same. In the meetin'-
house the man o' God ain't got but one kyind te
wrastle with, en thet air sinners. He's arter game
what cain't fly, seein' ez how they ain't angels yit;
en ez they'se occupyin' the floor he's 'bleeged te
shoot low, allowin' the crows a-settin' on the fence to
set right whar they be.

" But a politicioner's in a heap wuss fix; he's
'bleeged to deal with them what's on the fence, kase
he knows the crows air jes' waitin' to see which side
the fattest worms air a-comin' up on. But them thet's
plumb full o' religion ain't got no room fer worms."

He lit his pipe, took a few puffs, and then went on :

" I low them lawyers en j edges en stump-speakers
over at Springfield ain't fishin' fer snappin' turtles

72 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

with nothin' but red feathers from a rooster's tail. A
politicioner nowadays hez got to be ez cunnin' ez a
possum thet's playin' dead, en a heap cuter 'n a cata-
mount a-layin' roun' fer the hull hog — fer if he ain't
he'll be ketched hisself . Think o' the all-fired perdica-
mints they find tharselves in ! Talk about wrastlin'
with sin en Satan, Elihu ! Why, thar ain't a stump-
meetin' but what a Republican hez te spar the Demicrats
on a p'int o' law, en trip up the Know-nothin's on a
question o' niggers ; en while the Whigs air fannin'
him with brick-bats he's mighty lucky if he ain't
'spected te hold a candle te the devil while he's
a-bein' robbed o' purty nigh all his cowcumbers en
water-melons en more'n half his whisky en character."

At this moment the sudden arrival of three men on
horseback interrupted the conversation.

" Good evening, gentlemen," said the leader ; "have
you heard of any runaways about here within the last
day or two ? "

" I ain't beared o' none ; they don't never come this
way," Socrates replied.

" We're looking for three runaway slaves that are
said to be somewhere in this vicinity."

" 'Bout how long hev they been out ? " asked Lem
Stephens.

"We lost track of them two days ago; they are
somewhere near this creek."

" How many be they ? "

" Two women and a boy; there's a reward of five
hundred dollars."

" Let me go with ye," said Lem Stephens, hurriedly
going towards his horse; " en if we don't see nothin'
of 'em to-night I'll help ye find 'em in the momin."

THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 73

After some futile words the three men and Lem
Stephens wished us good-night and rode away.

By a sudden turn in the chain of events we had
been brought to the verge that divides the high level
of freedom from the abyss of bondage, and a feeling
of distress seized hold of the company. The two men
could find no words for speech. But out of the depths
of the night the voices of Nature assailed them : from
the woods behind us came the hooting and cries of
owl and wild cat, from the prairie came tiny insects
that floated past with buzzing whispers in the ears of
conscience, crickets sent a thrill of warning from under
the logs, tree-toads whistled near the creek, and a
whip-poor-will soared and called over the cabin and
the ghostly outlines of the woods.

Everything was free except the fugitives hovering
somewhere near the cabin : birds and animals could
roam about at will ; the comet had the universe for a
circuit ; Socrates, in his humble cabin, was a king in
his easy independence ; my father, with all his cares,
could go and come as he pleased ; Elihu Gest, in spite
his " loads, " enjoyed the freedom of the earth as far as
his eyes could see or his horses carry him ; and now,
perhaps within a few hundred yards of us, three
human beings were still panting in the throes of
bondage.

But the time had come to speak, and as my father
and the drover joined us the Load-Bearer said :

" It air the mother en her boy en gal. I 'low they
ain't a-agoin' te be separated in this world."

" Ye talk ez if ye knowed all about it," remarked
Socrates ; " but they'll be ketched afore to-morrer
noon if they air anywhar's roun' here."

74 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

" I'm only tellin' ye my idee, en I reckon ye '11 find
I'm right."

The Load-Bearer walked to the other side of the
cabin and stood for some moments without speaking.

" Jes' you keep still en set right whar ye be till I
come back," he said, returning towards us.

He walked along the road where it bordered the
woods. The three mounted men had come down this
road. We all wondered what impulse could have
induced him to take that direction.

The Load-Bearer had not been gone more than two
or three minutes before Zack Caverly's favourite
hound set up a plaintive whining under the cabin.

" Spy ! Keep still thar ! " said his master.

" Ye see," he went on, "that ole dog's got wind
o' sunthin' quare. I've larned 'em all te keep ez
still ez mice when me en other folks air about, but
thar's sunthin' unusual a-gettin' ready er Spy wouldn't
ez much ez sneeze. He beats all the dogs I ever hed.
Thet hound kin smell ! En ez fer hearin', I b'lieve
he kin hear what's a-goin' on most anywhar's.

" But ye wouldn't think he could tell shucks from
hoe-cakes, his looks air so innercent en pleadin' ! He
useter be the best fighter among 'em, but now he
knows 'tain't wisdom te be brash.

"It took me nigh on three year te larn him the
difference a-twixt wolf en b'ar, er skunk en wild cat,
en all the other varmints, en thet ain't savin' nothin'
'bout two-legged creatur's. Ye see, it war this a- way :
I war 'bleeged te p'int te the head iv any varmint
thet hed been shot er trapped, usin' only one word,
en thet word meanin' the varmint ; en by callin' the
names over en over ag'in he got te know what I meant

THE CABIN OF SOCEATES 75

when I asked : ' Air it wolf ? ' ' Air it b'ar' ?' en so on
plumb down te i 'Air it nigger ? '

Socrates now called on the hound to come out.

Spy came to his master, and, looking into his face,
seemed to expect some command. Socrates began:

" Air it wolf ? " The dog gave no sign. " Air it
b'ar ? " Still no response. " Air it nigger ? " The old
dog gave unmistakable signs of assent.

"Them runaways ain't fur off," said Socrates; "but
I ain't a-goin' te let Spy go arter 'em, he might skeer
'em away from Elihu ; en he'll bring 'em in if they're
alive en kickin'. If thar's anyone in this hull kintry
ez know's more'n thet ole hound it air Elihu Gest.
He's arter loads day en night, en he ain't happy onless
he's gettin' hisself into a bushel o' trouble. Ole Spy
en him war clost friends from the word Go, en I
reckon Elihu hez rescued more runaways than ary
other Abolitionist in this deestric' ; but they ain't
never ketched him at it ; they might ez well look f er
a sow's ear in a b'ar's den."

I thought I could hear the sound of voices in the
direction the Load-Bearer had gone, but I soon began
to think I must have been mistaken, for not till nearly
half-an-hour later did we hear him coming towards
the cabin.

He was walking as fast as he could, with a boy in
one arm and a woman leaning on the other.

"Great Jehosephat ! '' exclaimed Socrates; "if Elihu
ain't got more'n enough fer a load. But he's mistaken
'bout thar bein' three on 'em. I 'low two's enough,
sech ez they be.''

Elihu Gest came full into view; even with his firm
support the woman hanging on his arm was hardly

76 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

able to walk. But scarcely had he put down the boy
when another figure was seen approaching. It was
the woman's daughter — a handsome octoroon of about
seventeen — hobbling along with the aid of a crutch
made from a dry branch.

"I'll be durned if he warn't right arter all,"
observed Socrates, hurrying into the cabin to make
a fire.

"We got plenty time ; them thet's scoutin' roun'
these diggings won't be back ag'in to-night."

The fugitives were placed on the ground, with the
logs behind them as props, and the Load-Bearer
asked :

" 'Bout how long air it sence ye hed any vittles ? "

I could not hear the answer, but Elihu Gest
exclaimed :

" Three days without vittles, en all on 'em mos'
dead!"

Elihu made haste with the coffee, while Socrates
was hurrying with the supper.

Once in a while a groan came from the group of
figures. The sound mingled with the mysteries of
the surrounding darkness. It put fresh courage into
the heart of the Load-Bearer, and strengthened him
to assume still greater burdens. Socrates worked in
silence, and during this time we were all wondering
what ought to be done with the fugitives. To let
them be caught was out of the question, but what to
do with them after they had partaken of supper was
a point that puzzled everyone. My father thought it
dangerous to leave them so near the cabin.

To the great relief of all, the drover mounted his
horse and rode away, perhaps not wishing to become

THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 77

involved in any responsibility and to steer clear of a
situation which might compromise him in the eyes of
the law.

"Looky here," remarked Zack Caverly to the Load-
Bearer, "ye don't reckon he's goin' over Lem Stephens'
way, do ye ? "

" I don't rekon he air ; 'pears like he allers turns
off thar by Ebenezer Hicks's cornfield."

The coffee was ready and the Load-Bearer and
Socrates were serving it out in the big blue china
cups which we had used at our supper — the bacon
and hoe-cakes would soon follow.

Every moment now seemed like an hour.

My father, Elihu, and Socrates went into the cabin
to talk over the affair and decide on what to do.

They were coming out of the cabin when the
drover returned bringing the news that the slave-
catchers had decided to pay Socrates another visit
that night.

It did not take long for the Load-Bearer to come
to a decision. He called for aid, and one by one the
three runaways were lifted into his wagon.

" Whar be ye goin', Elihu? They've seed ye
here, en ye'll be called on shore en sartin."

" I don't know no more'n you ; but I ain't a-goin'
te stop till God Almighty tells me."

He drove off into the night, taking the road to the
east. We followed on the same road shortly after,
but met no one on the way home. When we arrived
at the Log-House we found that it, too, had been
visited by the slave-hunters.

CHAPTEK YII

AT THE POST-OFFICE

ONE morning I went with my father to the post-
office, which was in a small store by the railway
station, about six miles distant.

How bleak and forsaken it was ! The place con-
sisted of two houses and some freight cars shunted off
the main line. The prairie here had a desolate look,
but to the north lay a wooded district, and here my
father brought me to stand on a small embankment to
watch the train coining up around a curve out of the
woods.

The sight made an impression that was lasting, for
at this moment it is just as vivid as it was then. It
made my nerves tingle and opened the door to a new
world of wonders. The train itself, filled with pas-
sengers, did not interest me : it was the engine, with
its puffing steam, its cow-catcher, and its imposing
smoke-stack, that possessed the attraction.

The day soon came, however, when the locomotive
took the second place in my imagination and the pas-
sengers the first. What, after all, was the steam-
engine compared with human beings, animals, and
birds ? What was its smoke and movement com-
pared with pictures of earth, sky, and water? At
rest, the locomotive ceased to interest ; but the aspect
of the world was always changing. A landscape
had its four seasons. Every manifestation of Nature

AT THE POST-OFFICE 79

harmonised with some mood or condition of the mind,
and I watched the buzzards and blue-birds, the cranes
and chick-a-dees, the rabbits and squirrels, with
renewed and ever-increasing interest. Nature changed,
but never grew stale. The air was full of song and
colour, the earth full of forms and movement, and the
rapid motion of a garter-snake was, after all, more
fascinating than the movement of an engine with its
train of cars ; and how could the noise of the puffing
compare with a chorus of red- winged blackbirds ?
Nature is the one perennial charm.

But this was not the opinion of poor Monsieur
Duval, one of the unfortunate settlers who had mis-
taken the wilderness for a ready-made paradise. All
the loungers at the post-office looked like members of
the same family excepting this Frenchman and a
German settler whom they called " Dutchy." Duval
resembled a shipwrecked mariner among the inhabi-
tants of some remote island, the secret of whose
language and customs he could not fathom. But he
and the German were full of life, while the others
seemed too listless and lazy to do more than whittle
sticks and once in a while hit a certain spot by an
expectoration of tobacco-juice.

The scene was set-off by rows of tea-canisters,
coffee-sacks, bolts of calico, sugar-barrels, bacon, rice,
and plug-tobacco, with sundry farming implements
stored at the back, and a few pigeon-holes for letters.

The shuffling figure of the goateed proprietor stood
in the midst of all, a little taller and perhaps a little
more languid than any of the others, too indifferent to
talk, yet putting in a word now and again mechanically
without stopping to calculate the effect of what he

80 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

said and without being interested in any person or
thing. He aroused my interest as soon as he said to
my father :

" Wai, I'm going to wind her up — goin' to vamose."

" Going to leave us ? "

" Ya-as," he drawled ; " goin5 to wind up and move

on."

A man sitting on the edge of a large box, half -filled
with empty sacks, called out :

" Which a- way ? "

" Over to Pike kyounty," was the answer.

The Frenchman, who was standing against the
counter, straightened up.

"Me, too," he exclaimed, tapping his bosom once
for each word, "me, too, I wind her up, I go

vamose."

" Goin' to sell out, too ? "

" If I no sell heem I geef heem way," he answered
with a gesture of supreme disgust.

" How long have you been here ? " asked the
storekeeper.

" Two, tree year."

" Hardly long enough to give the country a fair
trial," said my father.

" Try heem ! I geef him plenty tarn. Ze farm he
try me lak Job was try wiz hees sheep an' hees
camelle! "

" Have you had much illness ? "

" Do I look seek ? My wife, my son, meself, we
work lak niggair. We haf no tarn for eat, no tarn for
sleep, no tarn for wash ourself."

" You must have taken up too much land. Most of
the trouble comes from that."

AT THE POST-OFFICE 81

" No, monsieur, we no haf too much, but we been
too much for ze land."

" I suppose you are from some part of the
South?"

" Me, I come from New Orleans. I haf one big
family ; I lose heem wiz ze yellow fevair. My
friends say, ' You go up ze Mississippi, you 'scape
ze fevair.' I tak my wife an' son to Saint-Louis.
Some one say, 'You tak one farm in Illinois, ze soil
she been so rich you scratch heem two, tree tarn wiz
hoe, everyzing come up while you look ! ' Wen I
come on ze farm ze soil she been too hard for scratch ;
I get one plough, so long, for cut ze big root, an four
pair ox for pool her. But ze wild cat come in ze
night ; she clam up ze tree an' tak ze turkey ; ze fox
brak in ze hen-house an' tak ze chicken. In ze
morning I find ze haid an' some feddair."

He stopped to consider a moment, then continued:

" I keep some bee for mak bees' wax. I go look —
I find ze hive sprawl on ze groun', zey haf left me
nozzing ! '5

" What animal do you suppose it was ? "

" Tell me, monsieur, do ze fox lak for eat ze bee ?
Do ze wild cat lak for chew ze bees' wax 1 Do ze
mink lak for haf her nose sting \ Ah, monsieur, I
lak for some one tell me zat ! "

Duval gave a fierce look at the man sitting on the
box, for he had just fallen over on the sacks in a
spasm of laughter, his feet in the air, and we con-
cluded he could tell what had become of the French-
man's bees if he chose.

" But zat is not ze worst," he went on. " One tarn
I haf ver' good crop. Ze corn, ze legume, ze poomkin,
v.s. a

82 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

she been all plant an' come up. But ze army-worm
she come ! Next day I go look — she leave me
nozzing but ze cobble-stone."

Then, as if he had forgotten something, he added :

" Ze cow come home an' I go for milk her — she
been dry lak my old boot; ze worm haf eat her
foddair!"

He let his arms fall in a limp gesture of resignation,
and taking from his pocket a cheap cigar, and leaning
with one arm on the counter, he began smoking,
letting out great puffs through his nose as if in this
way he were getting rid of all the evil things con-
nected with pioneer life.

The hang-dog faces of the men sitting and lolling
about were enlivened by grins, and ironical remarks
were freely indulged in.

" Say, Frenchy," said the man sitting on the box,
" what'll ye take te hire out jes' te keep away b'ars
en' skunks?"

Duval gave the man one contemptuous look. Evi-
dently he was not going to answer. He smoked while
he walked carelessly towards the box, and when
within a few feet of it made a sudden, cat-like bound
at the man, clutching his throat with the grip of a
frenzied gorilla while he forced him down into the
box head foremost.

The onlookers, stunned by the suddenness of the
attack, seemed dazed and helpless, staring at the
scene as if held by some horrible fascination. Then a
gurgling sound came from the victim, causing someone
to cry out :

" 111 be hanged if he ain't chokin' him to death ! "

" I'm durned if he ain't ! " exclaimed someone else.

AT THE POST-OFFICE 83

" Haul him off ! " shouted the store-keeper, roused
out of his lethargy; "we don't want no dead men
round here ! "

The store-keeper, assisted by one of the man's
friends, began to tug at the Frenchman. Hardly had
they done so when a man with a knife made a rush
for Duval; but the "Dutchman" was waiting his
chance ; he felled him to the floor by one quick blow
from his great, open hand, the hard, thick palm and
huge, long fingers making a splitting noise like a
blade of steel on a sheet of ice.

" No ! By sheemany ! " he growled, as he picked
up the knife and shook it in their faces, " You don't
come dem games here ! Ven you gif me dat shifferee
I hef some buckshot ready, but mine vife she don't
let me shoot nodding. Now I gif you someding mit
interest,'7 and with that he brought the same open
hand down on the man who had helped to pull Duval
off his victim. He fell to the floor as if struck with a
mallet, and I shuddered, for he seemed to be stone
dead. This was the third surprise within a few
seconds. The man in the box was not yet able to
rise to his feet, but Duval was looking about him
ready for more work and well inclined to keep it
going. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was all
a-fire. He stood like some ferocious animal in the
arena ready for any opponent, with a firm faith in his
two hands, his two legs, his nimble body and his quick
wit, while the "Dutchman " had good reason to pin
his faith to a pair of broad palms, which resembled the
paws of a bear in thickness, and a body unimpaired
by fiery whisky and malarial fever.

Two of the gang were now placed hors de combat,

o 2

84 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

and this without the use of knives or firearms. It
was now four against two, and the Frenchman had
evidently summed up the situation at a glance ; with
a quick, twisting movement he turned his body like a
practised wrestler, and the man standing beside him
found himself sprawling on the floor, his feet knocked
from under him by the deft manosuvres of Duval's
foot.

All was now over. After this the gang resembled
nothing so much as a pack of whipped dogs, and the
stillness that reigned in the store had something of
the stillness of the battle-field after the fury of the
battle.

Duval and the " Dutchman " left the store together
and became close friends from that day.

CHAPTER VIII

MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEAKER'S HOME.

Mr mother was busy getting ready for another
baking. She had baked the day before, and I could
not help wondering what all the extra bread was for.

I had not long to wait for an answer to my thoughts :
she stopped in the middle of her work, cleaned the
rolling pin of dough, and went to the pantry, where
she stood and looked for some moments at the things
inside.

" Oh, dear ! " she said, with one of her gentle sighs
which I always understood so well; " there is not
much, but what there is must go to-day, and in a day
or two I shall send more."

Out came all the bread and the meat and a pound
of coffee, with sugar. These were stored away in the
saddle-bags, for she said it was too far to walk and I
would have to saddle my pony.

" But where to ? " I asked with surprise.

" To Mrs. Gest's ; these things are for her."

" The Load-Bearer married ! " I exclaimed.

" Why, of course he's married, like all good Chris-
tians/' she observed, smiling ; " and you'll be married
too, some day, when the proper time comes."

I had pictured him as a kind of hermit, living some-
where all alone, perhaps being fed by ravens, like
Elijah the prophet ; and even now I could hardly
believe that he had a regular, fixed abode.

86 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

I was to tell Mrs. Gest she could count on my
mother's aid when she had " visitors from the South, "
which meant fugitive slaves trying to reach Canada.

The affair at the cabin of Socrates had been discussed
between my parents, and this was the result.

No member of the family had ever been to the home
of Elihu Gest. We knew he lived near a large creek,
some four or five miles south-west of the meeting-
house, so off I went in the full belief that I would
find the place by asking here and there on the way.

The country beyond the meeting-house was like
another world to me. The prairie, the dim outline of
the woods beyond, the atmosphere, all combined to
produce a sense of freshness and novelty, and the
effect on my mind could not have been greater had I
gone a hundred miles from home.

After riding what seemed to me a long distance a
man in a wagon directed me to a road bordering a
strip of wood which led into a region of trees and
underbrush, with patches of prairie here and there,
and vistas of the creek and the undulating ground
beyond. The land had a gentle slope towards the
water. The beech trees rose to a great height, and
now and then, through an opening in the woods, I
could see a distance of two miles ; but in most places
the world all around was hidden by rocky knobs, thick
underbrush and immense trees.

" What a place to hide in ! " I thought ; and I was
beginning to fear my search for the house would not
end in success, when I heard the barking of a dog some
considerable distance to the left. Stopping to consider
what to do, I detected faint tracks of wagon wheels
leading in that direction. I followed as best I could

MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEAKER'S HOME 87

over a parterre of leaves, moss, and the debris of
decayed timber.

Penetrating still farther, I came upon a clearing,
and then I caught a glimpse of a small frame house
almost hidden by trees and shrubs. As I approached,
three savage dogs, which I at first took to be wolves,
chained up, began a fierce barking and howling. As
I was about to get off my pony and ask if Elihu Gest
lived here, a thin, pale-faced woman, her hair streaked
with grey, opened the door. Then, wiping her mouth
with her apron, she exclaimed :

" Bless ye, sonny, ye ain't come with bad news, hev
ye ? My ole man's been gone two full days en
nights!"

It was Cornelia Gest, the Load-Bearer's wife.

I told her who had sent me and what I had brought ;
but it did not allay her anxiety when I recounted the
incidents at the cabin of Socrates.

" Git right down en come in, en tell me all about
it," she said ; "I 'spect ye need a rest. It allers
makes my head ache ridin' over the prairie in the
hot sun."

I got off the pony, and after tying up took the
things into the kitchen.

" Land ! How good yer ma is," she exclaimed,
" sendin' me all these things, in case o' needcessity.
Elihu tole me 'bout her. Some folks don't need te
hev wings te be angels. How did yer ma know I
hedn't but one loaf oj bread left ? It do beat all how
things work out ! I lowed te do some bakin' to-day ?
but somehow I couldn't git te work. Tears like
when Elihu's away en I don't know his whereabouts
I cain't git nothin' done ! Law me ! if here ain't

88 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

coffee ! Elihu ain't never ceased talkin' 'bout yer
ma's coffee. What does she cl'ar it with ? "

All this time I was wondering what she would do
if her husband should fail to return before evening.

" I'm right glad ye've come te cher a body ; the
hours air longer when ye're mos' dead worrying
When he stayed away afore he 'lowed he wouldn't
hev time te git back, en I warn't noways a-feared he'd
got hisself into trouble."

There was something in her voice and look that
aroused my sympathy.

"I set up all las' night pray in1 en readin' in the
Good Book," she went on ; " 'twarn't in mortal natur'
te sleep."

She seemed far away in thought. Her eyes were fixed
on the floor, and I began to ask myself why everyone
had so much trouble. As I only sat and listened she
had become unconscious of my presence in the house ;
but after a while she straightened up and resumed :

" I recken he tuck the runaways over te Uriah Busby's
en from there he'll take 'em on te the nex' station."

She mused for a time again, and then continued :

" But it ain't easy ; the resks air tumble ; but then,
ez Elihu sez, when the Lord en His hosts air with ye
thar ain't no call te feel skeered. Elihu en Ike
Snedeker en Ebenezer Carter en Tom Melendy, they
don't none o' them know what it air te fail."

After sitting for some time without speaking, all of
a sudden she clasped her hands and rose from her
seat, and stretching out her thin, bare arms, with
trembling body and quivering lips, her voice went up
in a long, loud wail :

" Lord, help a pore f ersaken woman ! Help me

MY VISIT TO THE LO AD-BE AEEK'S HOME 89

this day, f er my troubles air more'n I kin bear without
Ye. Make it so I kin set here alone without repinin' ;
send Elihu home, oh my Lord en my God, fer I cain't
live without him."

Her look appalled me. I saw grief manifest in words
and gesture. ... I pictured to myself my mother
pleading with the Eternal. I imagined what the Log-
House would be with my father absent and his
whereabouts unknown.

How I wished to say something comforting to the
lonely woman standing there, but I, who could never
express to my mother what I thought and felt when
she was in trouble, could not find words to comfort a
stranger. I was overcome with a pity and sympathy
which I was powerless to express in words, and I
wondered what would become of the little home in the
woods if the Load-Bearer never returned. It seemed
as if I had known this house and its occupants all my
life, that we were in some way closely related.

I proposed to ride over to the Busbys for any news
I could gather there. It would take about an hour
and a half. But we could arrive at no decision, and I
was thinking of returning when we saw Elihu Gest
slowly wending his way home through the most
unfrequented part of the woods. He had followed
the creek a good part of the way, and his wagon seemed
full of farming implements and sacks of grain.

Cornelia Gest stood at the door awaiting his arrival.

" Eer the Land's sake ! " she ejaculated when he got
within talking distance, " whar hev ye been ? "

She paused a moment and then continued :

" I don't know whether I'm looking right at ye er
whether it's yer ghost a-drivin' them hosses. How

90 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

d'ye low I've been settin' here two endurin' nights
through without ye ? "

" Now, Comely," he pleaded, " don't ye take on so.
When I tell ye all about it ye'll be 'sprised en mighty
glad I didn't come right home from the post-office.
But I want ye te help me unload right here, f er it
don't matter whar we set these things."

"We all went to work. The implements, or what I
took to be such, were soon placed on the ground, but
the sacks, instead of containing grain or potatoes, were
filled with straw. We lifted off those nearest the dash-
board, the Load-Bearer flung back a horse-blanket, and
three faces, frightened, haggard, and woe-begone,
looked out from the hay underneath. It was the
quadroon mother and her two octoroon children.

" White folks ! " gasped Cornelia, stunned by the
unexpected.

" I 'low the two air white enough, more's the pity,"
assented Elihu.

"Goodness me! Elihu Gest!" protested Cornelia
when the two stepped into the kitchen ; u we ain't got
no place fer white folks. Thar's plenty vittles, but we
ain't got no room, ye know we ain't ; en two on 'em
look like they hedn't but one more breath te let out
en they war holdin' on to it till they got here."

" Wai, now," he said, " jes' give me a leetle time te
let out my breath, fer me, too, I've been holdin' it in
ever sence night afore last."

But she persisted :

" Whar on the face o' this y earth hev ye fished out
sech a load ? Ye ain't never carried home nothin' te
ekil it ! Whar hev ye been ? Do tell ! "

" Why, ain't Bub here told ye ? "

MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEAKER'S HOME 91

" He told me 'bout three runaways ye found over at
Zack Caverly's, two on 'em mos' dead."

" Jes' so, en I driv 'em te brother Busby's, whar I
war obleeged te wait fer a good chance te git away,
en now they air in the wagon thar.''

Cornelia sank into a seat. Amazement and indig-
nation were depicted on every feature. Her jaws
were firmly set and I could hear her teeth grate.

" White slaves ! " she groaned. " I know ye ain't
given te jokes, Elihu, but I cain't git it into my head
how thar kin be slaves thet air ez white ez we be;
somehow I couldn't never believe it ; but accordin' te
your tellin' I've got te believe it, and now I've seen it
with my own eyes."

She did not seem like the woman who, a short time
before, was complaining of her sorrows and tribulations.
Indignation had given way to a desire to act, to help,
to save the lives of the fugitives and send them on
their way towards Canada.

" I war calc'latin' te bring 'em in the house,"
remarked the Load-Bearer, as the two left the kitchen
and walked over to the wagon, " but I reckon it air
safer to take 'em te the barn. Thar '11 be a mite iv a
chance thet if any one comes arter 'em they won't go
te the barn te look."

"Wai," agreed Cornelia, "thar ain't no objections
te clean, new hay fer beds, en we kin take some things
over from the house."

" To-morrer I'll hev te step about en find a new
hidin' -place, fer I heerd another band o' runaways
air summairs south o' here, en they may be along
afore we know it."

"Don't ye go te doin' too much all te oncet,"

92 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

interposed his wife, " er yell be ailin' en things '11
be a sight wuss."

" To-niorrer I'll take 'em te the cave by the creek.
I lowed te hev it all fixed afore now, but things hev
come about mighty sudden. Thet cave needs a heap
o' fixin'. I ain't hed no sleep fer two nights en I
skasely know what I'm a-doin'."

For the first time I took notice of the Load-Bearer's
tired face. His eyes expressed the hope and faith
which inspired him, but a great weariness made his
walk heavy and his movements slow.

It was all Elihu and Cornelia Grest could do to get
the eldest of the two women out of the wagon and
into the barn. There was enough to keep all hands
busy. I ran to and fro with blankets and pillows,
while Mrs. Gest attended to the immediate wants of
the fugitives.

When I had done all I could at the barn and
returned to the house, I found Socrates standing close
to the dogs. He was evidently in one of his keenest
talking moods :

" Ye kin kyount on what I'm tellin' ye," he was
saying. " I hev fit varmints my hull life, en hev
teached dogs, en I hev fed 'em so ez te make 'em win.
Mebbe yell be in fer a fight afore long, en ye cain't
keep 'em chained 'thout hevin' em fall off some en git
sorter limp in the fore-legs — reecollect a dog fights ez
much with his legs ez he does with his teeth. If Lem
Stephens's blood-hounds come nosin' up this way yell
be in fer a lively kick-up."

" I've been wonderin' how ye keep yer dogs so
sleek and spry," remarked the Load-Bearer. " What
d'ye feed 'em on ? Any pertickler kyind o' meat ? "

MY VISIT TO THE LO AD-BE AREB'S HOME 98

"Give 'em mos' any thin' but liver, en let 'em run
roun' consider'ble. But tie 'em up en starve 'em
fer a day er so afore ye calc'late te use 'em fer any
fightin'."

Zack Caverly was eyeing with extraordinary inte-
rest the three huge wolf-hounds, whose cold, agate
eyes conjured up in my imagination images of the
haunts of wolf and bear and the cruel romance of
wold and wilderness. Compared with the Load-
Bearer's dogs the hounds at the cabin of Socrates
were the incarnation of docility and affection.

The wolf-hounds gave us a look now and then of
glacial indifference. There was no caressing to ber
indulged in here, no patting on the back, no words of
encouragement expected or needed. I could not dis-
tinguish any difference between them — they all looked
the same height, colour, and size — but the Load-
Bearer knew the characteristics of each.

As I looked at the wolf-hounds, and then at the
meek, compassionate face of Elihu Gest, I was struck
with the incongruity of the scene: the dogs all
ferocity, the man all meekness. But from that
moment I saw the Load-Bearer in a new light. Under
the humane countenance there dwelt the inflexible
will, the inexorable determination to dare and to do.
How different he was now, standing beside his wolf-
hounds, from what he looked on his first visit to the
Log-House ! The benevolent look was still there, but
the vague, dreamy expression was gone, and in its
place appeared a realisation of present responsibilities.
Plotting and planning had taken the place of dreams.

"They don't need no coddlin'," observed Socrates,
as he eyed them one after the other, slowly and

94 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

critically. " I ain't seed no dog-flesh ekil to 'em sence
I war down in Tennessee, en if ye treat 'em ez I say
ye'll hev good reason te be thankful, Elihu."

" The Lord made 'em, brother Caverly, en they air
here according te His will, en I'm right glad ye see
thar p'ints air p'ints te reckon on."

" I ain't seed thar ekil," he declared, giving the
Load-Bearer a knowing look ; " they're ez full o'
p'ints ez a porcupine air o' quills, en I reckon it ain't
no ways discommodin' fer a man in your cirkinstances
te hev sech pets lay in' roun', jes' pinin' away kase tha
ain't no live meat fer te clean thar teeth on."

" Tears like they ain't got no feelin's, 'ceptin' fer
huntin' en fightin'," remarked Elihu, contemplating
the animals much as he would so many savage
Indians.

"They don't show no pertickler likin' fer any-
body," returned Socrates; "but ye'll allow a good
wagger makes a pore watcher, en some on 'em
gits more'n enough te eat by not knowin' they hev
tails."

" If thar ain't Sister Busby ! " exclaimed the Load-
Bearer, as Serena emerged from the woods on a big,
slow, floundering sorrel.

Elihu Gest seemed ill at ease when he saw her
coming. She came like a rain-cloud, and her presence
threw a cold douche over all. Serena Busby's tongue
was all the more dangerous because her intentions
were good and everybody liked her, but she was apt
to tell the gravest secrets without being conscious of
what she was saying.

" Where's Comely ? " she shouted, before the sorrel
came to a stop at the kitchen door.

MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEAKEK'S HOME 95

" I've brought ye over some b'ars grease en cam-
phire," she went on as she caught sight of Mrs. Gest
coming from the barn. " I forgot all about it this
mornin' when Elihu left, everyone bein' so
flustered."

" How good ye be ! " said Cornelia. " I war sayin'
to Elihu jes' now thet we hedn't nothin' in the house
to rub with, en the gal's ankle do need 'tendin' to. Ez
fer gittin' a doctor, 'tain't no use thinkin' o' sech
a thing. Thar ain't no one 'cept Doc. Eeed in Jack-
sonville we could trust to keep the secret, en he's too
fur away."

" This is what we all use fer sprains en bruises,"
replied Serena. "Ye know she ain't hed no bones
broke. It all come about by havin' te jump over
logs like rabbits with hounds after 'em that night
when the slave-hunters were on thar tracks. It's
horrible te see the poor thing suffer so ! But
her mother is plumb used up ; she wouldn't taste a
mite 'o vittles over to my house, en I tried her
with everything. Sakes alive ! " she exclaimed, put-
ting her hand into a deep pocket and taking out a
small parcel, "I mos' forgot the tea; it's green
tea, Comely — some that Uriah got the last time he
was down to Alton, en if that don't make her set
up nothin' will. It'll give her backbone. But law !
ain't the children white ! It was the boy's curly
hair made me think o' runaways, but I declare I'd
take 'em fer white folks if they was dressed up real

nice."

" I didn't take no pertickler notice the night Elihu
diskivered 'em," observed Socrates, "en I ain't seed
'em sence — not te look squar' at 'em."

96 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

Cornelia Gest had no more to say. She pretended
a deep interest in the things Mrs. Busby had brought,
but her mind was elsewhere. Her face looked what
she felt.

" Ain't ye goin' te git off en stop a spell, Sister
Busby ? " inquired the Load-Bearer, with bland
apathy.

" Yes, do," said his wife ; " shorely ye ain't goin*
back 'thout seein' whar we've put 'em. We've done
the best we could ; it's a sight cleaner'n some beds
I've slept in afore now."

" I promised Uriah te be right back without tyin'
up, but I'll git off en make 'em a real nice cup o' this
here tea, en we'll take it over to 'em."

" They've hed coffee," observed Cornelia, with an
effort to be polite and as a mild protest against green
tea.

The two women went into the kitchen, and I heard
the Load-Bearer remark :

" Sister Busby's got a sight o' hoss sense, but she
do need the bridle now and ag'in."

" Sereny's jes' like a skittish yearling," commented
Socrates; "but don't ye go te bridlin' her tongue er
she'll take the bit 'twixt her teeth en a prairie fire
won't head her off. Give her plenty tetherin'-groun'
en plenty fac's te nibble on, but don't let her chaw too
close te the stumps."

"Ye kin lead a filly te the trough, Brother
Caverly, but ye cain't make her drink more'n jes'
so much. Some folks air allers thirstin' fer water
from other folks's wells, but nothin' but a runnin'
stream o' gossip will slake Sister Busby's thirst fer
more knowledge."

MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEAKEK'S HOME 97

" Thet's a fac', thet's a fae' ; but the wust is tne
stream runs squar' through your diggin's."

" Ez things are goin' now, Sereny knows 'nough te
want te know a heap more. I'm plumb with ye when
ye tell me not te let her nibble till she comes to the
cobble-stones."

The tea was soon made, for Mrs. Gest had kept the
fire going and the water hot.

No sooner had she and Mrs. Busby disappeared into
the barn than Alek Jordan came galloping up by the
shortest cut from the main road.

" Marm told me te give ye this," he said to the
Load-Bearer, handing him a letter ; " it's from Isaac
Snedeker; he give it te marm te send."

Elihu opened and read, while Zack Caverly stood
and waited for the news.

The Load-Bearer heaved a sigh :

" Brother Snedeker sez he's a-comin' here to-morrer
night with eight runaways."

" Whoop-ee ! " exclaimed Socrates.

Then a thought struck him.

" Looky here, Alek," he said, " you jes' light out
ez quick ez ever ye kin ; thar's some un at the barn
thet musn't know ye've been here. Don't ye wait a
minnit ; take the trail through the woods by the creek
ez fur ez ye kin er mebbe the runaways '11 git
ketched."

The Load-Bearer had his eyes fixed on the barn,
expecting every moment to see Mrs. Busby emerge
and then ride part of the way home with Alek Jordan,
when more than one secret would be revealed con-
cerning the intentions of Isaac Snedeker.

Alek, whose horse was young and in fine condition,

98 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

was off at a bound, the animal clearing like a buck
every obstacle in his path.

Hardly had he got out of sight when Serena Busby
made her appearance, followed by Cornelia Gest,
who, weary and distracted, let the visitor do all the
talking.

CHAPTER IX

A NIGHT OF MYSTERY

ON certain evenings my father would sit before the
big, open fireplace and watch with unalloyed satisfac-
tion the burning logs. He would see pictures in the
blazing wood, and he had a science of his own in the
mingling of different logs.

" How well that dried hickory burns with the damp
walnut ! " he would say, taking the tongs and shifting
the pieces, now a little more to the front, now a little
farther back.

He taught me to see castles, people, and faces in
the flames and embers, and I knew what colours to
expect from the different woods. He kept some that
were full of sap, that would burn slowly ; others were
split up to dry. While sitting before the fire on a
clear, bracing night my father was wont to forget
every care and abandon himself to the pure pleasures
of the hearth. He would dream of the past, of friends
in the old country, and more than once he would
remark to me, taking the tongs and pointing:
" There's a face that reminds me of poor So-and-so."
He loved to revisit the old familiar scenes while the
fire gave them momentary life and set them before
him in frames of gold and flaming opal. Then he
would tell me stories of the wild animals of the old
homestead, of the tracks of the marten in the snow, and
how he discovered its hiding-place ; of a memorable

H 2

100 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

fox hunt when one of his friends held the fox up
by the tail and another friend cried out from a dis-
tance : " Don't hurt the fox ! don't hurt the fox ! "
and of his sojourn in Paris during the reign of Louis
Philippe.

At such times my mother added a spirit of cheerful-
ness by some joyful exclamation, such as : " There's
a letter in the candle ! " as if the simple expression in
itself would assist the arrival of good news from afar ;
and when I looked I saw a large flaming blot, on the
side of the wick, pointing toward us.

I cannot remember whether the letters arrived, as
the candle so often announced ; but how vividly I
recollect the nights when I lay awake in the next
room and heard my parents discuss the uncertainty of
the future, the imminent need of funds to carry on
the work of the farm, and the possibility of failure
and ruin ! Such conversations occurred after the
other members of the family had gone to bed, but I
heard everything, and night after night I listened to
these talks, and racked my brain wondering how it
would all end. My distress was even greater than
that of my mother, for she knew what I did not, and
she could still hope.

After such talks the quivering song of the cricket
dotted the stillness with an accent of deeper melan-
choly, while the heavy pendulum slowly measured
out the minutes between midnight and the dismal
twilight of dawn.

We were all sitting quietly together the evening
after my visit to the Load-Bearer's home, my mother
with the Bible in her lap — the only book she ever
read while in the Log-House — my father reading a

A NIGHT OF MYSTERY 101

newspaper containing an account of a recent speech, by
Abraham Lincoln. My mother's face looked paler
and more pensive than usual, for, some days previous
to this, my father had had a misunderstanding with
one of the settlers. The only weapon in the house
was a double-barrelled gun, and even this stood
unloaded against the wall in a corner of the sitting-
room. No dog was kept on the place, for the reason
that a dog was regarded as one of the things most
likely to cause trouble with the neighbours.

The wind was blowing across the prairie from the
east. My mother seemed apprehensive, and I must
have caught some of the thoughts which filled her
mind with gloomy presentiments. During a lull of
the wind a sound reached us from the prairie. It
might have been a shout or a call. How vividly it
all comes before me now 1 She looked inquiringly at
my father, who was absorbed in his newspaper and
heard nothing. I needed no words to tell me what
she was thinking ; her face assumed a grave and
anxious look. I was hoping the sound might be
nothing more than the noise of belated travellers
passing on horseback when we heard it again, like
a confused, mumbling menace — this time a little
nearer, still disguised in the muffled wind. She
walked into the next room, greatly agitated, but
instantly returned and began to read in the Prayer-
book.

My father had just put aside his newspaper when
a low, hollow murmur came from the prairie.

" What can it be ? " asked my mother in a voice
scarcely audible. Without answering, he went into
the next room for the ammunition, took the gun from

102 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

the corner and began to load with buckshot. It
seemed to me he had never looked so tall, so grim, so
determined as when he rammed the wadding down
with the ramrod. Then he went to the front door
and listened. My mother sat with closed eyes like
one in a trance, until it seemed to me as if by some
unaccountable hocus-pocus we had been thrust into a
world where pantomime and mystery had taken the
place of speech, and we were waiting for some sudden
and terrible stroke of destiny. What was going to
happen ? Was it the end of all things at the Log-
House ?

My father decided not to go out by the front way,
and after the light was removed he opened the kitchen
door and stood outside in the dark.

" The moon is just rising," said my mother in a
half-whisper, looking through the window of the
front room. Then I looked, and as the clouds drifted
by I saw the moon in the shape of a gleaming scythe.
A sudden chill of autumn had come to the house.
She hurried out to beg my father to come in, but he
was creeping from corner to corner and from tree to
tree, with the gun held before him, cocked and ready
for that deadly aim for which he was so well known.

After going as far as the smoke-house and waiting
there some time, he returned ; he thought the sounds
must have been due to some prowling animal. He
was about to give up further search when the moaning
was again heard, out a little beyond the trees, and
then, as my mother stood trembling at the door, a
voice shouted :

" Don' shoot, massa ; don' shoot ! fer de Lawd's sake
don' ye shoot ! "

A NIGHT OF MYSTEKi 103

My father went straight towards the voice.

" We done lost, massa," someone shouted as soon as
he reached the open ; " we is lookin' f er massa Gest's
place."

" Come in, come in."

My father came back into the kitchen with two
negro fugitives.

" Where have you been ? "

" Mass' Snedeker done drap us ober dere," said one
of the negroes, pointing west.

" He was running you off ? "

" Yes, massa."

" And finding he was chased, let you down, and so
you got lost ? "

" Yes, massa."

Just then a loud knocking at the front door came
with terrible suddenness, for during the talk and
confusion no one had heard any noise in the road.

My father took his gun, and standing at one side
of the door asked who was there.

" Isaac Snedeker," answered a familiar voice.

Open went the door and in rushed Ike Snedeker,
one of the most intrepid souls that ever risked death
for the sake of conscience.

A man stood before us who had never known fear.
One glance at this face would be enough to make an
enemy stop and think twice before coming to close
quarters with such a being. He was courage incar-
nate, with the shaggy head of a lion, the sharp,
invincible eye of an eagle, the frame of an athlete,
the earnestness of a convinced reformer. His hair
stood out thick and bushy, and his bearded face, with
the upper lip clean-shaven, gave to the whole

104 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

countenance a massive, formidable look that inspired
every fugitive with confidence and struck fear into
the hearts of his secret foes.

"I've lost two runaways/' he said, as he walked
through to the kitchen ; " had to let them out of the
wagon over there near the maple grove — we were
followed."

" I think they are here," said my father, " and I
came near shooting one of them by mistake."

" I directed them to come this way as near as I
could, hoping they would strike through the prairie
at this place."

My mother was now bringing the fugitives some-
thing to eat when Isaac Snedeker said peremptorily :

" Come along, it's now or never. We've got to get
to Brother Gest's with that load before midnight.
You see, I've had to gather 'em up here and there in
different places, and I have in the wagon out there
two lots — one sent over by Ebenezer Carter and the
other by Brother Wolcott. If we get caught it'll
be the first time ; but they'd get a haul that would
amount to something — I've got fourteen altogether."

The two fugitives left without having time to drink
a cup of coffee, and we all went to the road to see them
off. The wagon was full of frightened, trembling
runaways : negroes, mulattoes, octoroons. Not a
moment was lost. Isaac Snedeker had only to speak
to his horses — a fine, powerful team — to send them
going at a great speed down the road towards the
appointed meeting-place at Elihu Gest's.

We went back into the house, where my mother
sank exhausted into a rocking-chair.

But she had still another ordeal to go through.

A NIGHT OF MYSTEEY 106

Prayers had been said, and we were all about to retire
for the night, when the noise of galloping horses and
men talking could be heard in the road. One moment
of suspense followed another. Footsteps were heard
near the kitchen door, then there came a light and
somewhat timid rapping as if the persons outside were
not certain about this being the right place. My father
opened, this time without asking who was there. Two
disreputable-looking men stood before him, one of
them scowling at us through the door like some
ferocious animal. They carried pistols and dirks.
Their eyes were shaded by slouched hats that partly
concealed the upper part of their faces, so that, for all
we knew, they might have been neighbours living at
no great distance from the Log-House.

"Hev ye seen any runaways hangin' round
hyar ? " asked the elder man, looking up from
under his hat, and with an expression that told of a
fearful admixture of malicious cunning and moral
cowardice.

"I have," answered my father. " Who delegated you
to look for them ? "

The fellow hesitated.

Then he stammered :

" Be you a fire -eat in' Abolitionist ? "

" I have voted for Abraham Lincoln once, if that is
what you mean by being an Abolitionist."

" Ye ain't been long in this country," observed the
younger man.

" Long enough to become an American citizen, and
vote."

This surprised them. They looked confused, but
they braced themselves for a final effort.

106 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

" We're arter them runaways, 'en we don't calculate
te leave hyar without takin' 'em along."

"They went from here some time ago, so you'll
have to look elsewhere if you want to find them."

" Let's go over to the barn," said the elder of the
two.

They started for the barn, but stopped just beyond
the big locust tree, and I heard the words :

" Say, Jake, I don't like the look o' that old
Britisher."

" No more do I."

"He'll shoot the fust thing we know. He's got
sunthin' mighty juberous in thet eye o' his'n."

Not another word was said. They wheeled about,
made for the road, mounted their horses, and were off.

They had been cowed and disarmed by my father's
coolness, his independence, by his towering height,
and a scorn that was withering to the two slave-hunting
villains.

CHAPTEE X

SOWING AND REAPING

THE wide strip of prairie to the west of the Log-
House was now ready for planting, but not without
immense labour. A huge plough which descended into
the primitive soil was drawn by four or five pairs of
stout oxen, driven and directed by a man with a whip
as long as the team itself. My father held the plough,
and frequently stood on it in order to drive it deep
enough to cut through the roots that were often
formidable in their thickness.

Oh, the delightful souvenirs of that ploughing and
planting ! The odour of the fresh, rich soil, never
broken till now, the turning up of snakes, insects, and
queer stones, with here and there the rough flint-
head of an Indian arrow, the flocks of red- winged black-
birds settling down to feast in the wavy sods, the
excitement which had in it no reaction — how is it
possible that such things pass as in dreams ?

The whole day I followed the oxen, never growing
weary of the wonders of Nature, and when this rough
piece of land had been ploughed, harrowed, and duly
prepared for the first crop of Indian corn (maize), then
came, what was to me, the climax of the whole pro-
ceedings, the actual sowing of the seed. It was like
some rare holiday, a festival, a celebration. All Nature
seemed to partake of the joy ; a new world of marvels
seemed to be on the eve of consummation. The weather

108 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

was perfect, and as we three — my father, one of my
sisters, and myself — went forth with a sack of seed,
we dropped the large golden grains into the proper
places all along through the soft, dark loam, closing up
each hole, keeping up a ceaseless clatter, mainly, I
think, about the pure delights of the work we were
doing.

Perhaps never since have I felt the same kind of
thrill. There are days that shine out like great white
jewels in the crown of years.

After the planting there was little to be done except
watching and waiting. We watched the sprouting of
the corn till it grew through the first period. Its
second period was one of flowing, silky tassels, clear
and pure, with a silvery sheen, the whole field decked
in opulent hangings that waved in the wind and
sparkled in the sun, the stalks rising in places to a
height of ten feet or more. The third period came
about August, when the ripening began. It was
slow, the stalks turning to a light, faded gold, the big
ears hanging in heavy clusters and in countless num-
bers, one rivalling another in length and size. And
the field now afforded another pleasure — that of
getting lost in its mysterious depths. By day it was
a happy feeding-ground for birds, and by night a
hiding-place for wild animals.

Then came two later stages — the cutting and stack-
ing. The cutting was rough work. It was done by
hired hands ; and when the corn was stacked the
field assumed another air, and the face of Nature there-
abouts was changed beyond recognition. The stacks
resembled innumerable huts or wigwams, and this
was not without a charm of its own, for it made the

SOWING AND HEAPING 109

surroundings less lonely-looking ; but when the ears
of corn were taken from the stalks and the field
stripped bare the view was one of vacant desolation,
without a symbol of saving grace — naked, barren of
romance or joy, a thing plucked and polluted by the
ruthless hand of necessity.

Then came one of the last stages in the progress of
the corn towards the bread-pan of the household. The
big, stout ears had to be stripped of the thick outer
envelope, and this was called a " corn-husking." It
was done by all hands, great and small ; the neigh,
bours were invited, the company assembling in the
evening, mostly young people ; a husking-glove was
worn on one hand, and, with a small, knife-shaped
implement, the shuck was stripped off and the beautiful
gold-red grain was laid bare. This was a time of
merry-making, love-making, and gaiety. In the
earlier days it was a time of dancing and heavy drink-
ing, but here at the Log-House the evening passed in
sober enjoyment, as became the rigid tenets of the
master and mistress, almost Calvinistic in their
religious views; and so nothing stronger than coffee
was drunk at the merry supper which followed.

Six months had passed since the prairie soil was
broken for the corn, and now we should see it no
more till it came into the house in the form of golden
meal, all ready to be prepared for the bread-pan,
baked in the oven, and set steaming hot on the table
for breakfast or supper, about an inch and a half
thick, as yellow as rich gold, the top baked to a brown
crust, the whole cut into good sized squares in the
pan. We cut the pieces through the middle and
spread them with fresh home-made butter ; and this,

110 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

with home-cured bacon, and eggs laid in the sweet-
smelling hay of the old barn, by hens fattened on
corn, surpassed any dish I have ever eaten, in the
palaces of kings, in the mansions of millionaires, or
any of the great restaurants of Paris or London.
How many times, when dining with the great ones of
the world, undeceived by the illusions of sight, taste,
and smell, my mind has wandered back to the delicious
breakfasts and suppers at the Log-House, certain that
nothing could rival hot corn-bread properly made.

In many of the principal States corn is the staff of
life. It is given to pigs, cattle, turkeys, and chickens.
It fed the negroes as slaves, the whites when flour was
a thing unattainable, gave Abraham Lincoln his robust
frame, developed the physical frame of most of the
famous men of the South and West of early days, and
made victory over malaria and adverse conditions pos-
sible. Neurasthenia was unheard of till the people
began to eat bread made from wheat. The eating of
hot white biscuits (muffins) for breakfast and supper
developed America's national disease — dyspepsia.

Up to the time of the great Civil War, the general
type of the South and West was characterised by height,
muscular litheness, immense powers of resistance,
sound digestion. The fashions in eating kept pace
with fashions in dress. Previous to 1820 the dress
was mainly of buck-skin, cap of fur, such as the
raccoon, and moccasins on the feet. Then came the
period of jean and linsey-woolsey, dyed blue or
copperas-coloured ; then what I may call the calico
period, when young women were considered to be
beautifully dressed in plain dotted or striped coloured
calico patterns, with sun-bonnets to match. This

SOWING AND REAPING 111

was followed by a step nearer the city fashions, and
ginghams and delaines were introduced here and
there ; but the silk and lace period did not dawn on
the smaller towns of the West till the war suddenly
scattered bank-notes broadcast through the land and
brought in its train tumult, movement, money, and
the latest fashions.

In the autumn there were other gatherings, such
as " apple parings," and " quiltings," and the inevit-
able country fair which everyone attended. The
autumn was the most sociable time of the whole year,
and for several weeks there would be plenty to do and
plenty to talk about. The quilting brought together
the most instructive and entertaining visitors. It was
a woman's affair, but the husbands usually came for
supper at six, or later, in the evening, and so there
was talk on every subject of any local interest, from
politics to mince pies.

After one or two cups of tea Mrs. Busby would
talk by the hour, and a word, a hint would call forth
the description of an event or a new version of some
disputed story.

" Law me ! How this section hez settled up sence
we've been here ! When we fust come there warn't
no stores within a ten mile ride. It wus rough, and
in some places a mite dangerous, especially over in
what they called the * chivaree ' district. There was
a band that chivareed every couple that got merried
fer miles around ; en speakin' o' chivarees reminds
me o' the time when ole man Snyder merried a
yaller-haired gal from down Jersey ville way. They
hedn't more'n got home when long come the wust
crowd ye could pick up in the hull country, headed

112 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

by Bub Hawkins en Jack Haywood. They brought
ole tin pans, kittles, whistles, cow-bells, horns en
everything they could make a howlin' noise with, en
set up a kinder war-dance round the cabin. Ole man
Snyder was fer shootin', bein' tetchy en not given to
lettin' words melt in his mouth, but his bride got
riled en took a raw hide en made fer the door, en out
she went into the crowd.

" ' Who's the ringleader here ? ' she says. i Who's
the ringleader ? I want to know ; en if ye don't
tell me 111 cow-hide ye all, en won't be long
about it.'

"With that Bub Hawkins started snickerin' en
steppin' roun' like a turkey on a hot gridiron, half
ashamed like en not knowin' jes' what te do or te
say, en Sal Snyder standin' there with her yaller
hair all hangin' loose en her eyes a snappin' like a
wild cat.

"' Ain't ye goin' to tell me?' she shouted; but
there warn't a man there that could stand en look
right in them eyes.

" ' Looky here, Bub Hawkins,' she says, ' you've
come te chivaree me en my ole man, but I'm a-goin'
te give ye somethin' te make ye shiver en keep it up
all night,' en with that she lit in en let him have
it, head en face, neck en body, en when he broke en
ran she wus after him, lettin' him have it from
behind ; en ye better b'lieve she hed sinews in her
arms like the strong man in th' Good Book ; en every
time Bub Hawkins jumped a log she brought down
her cow-hide from behind with a reg'lar war-whoop that
made the woods ring. When she had chased the ring-
leader she come back te tackle the others, but they

SOWING AND HEAPING 113

had all vamosed. They do claim that Sal Snyder
plumb broke up that gang.

" They did need religion," she went on, " en it was
time Pete Cartwright come along en got Jack Hay-
wood side-tracked from his good-fer-nothin' ways.
Ye see it wus like this : Jack Hay wood's wife died
en left him with six young uns, en he lowed his home
wus like a hive without a queen bee. Anyhow, that's
what he told widder Brown when he merried her.
Things went long purty smooth fer some time, en it
looked like he wus well fixed en settled ; but one day
she up en said :—

" ' Looky here, Jack Hay wood, I 'low yer hive's all
right, en it sets close te a clover patch, but whar's the
honey ? I ain't never see ye bring home nothin' but
what sticks te yer feet, en thar ain't no mistake 'bout
it, thar's plenty comb, fer it's comb, comb all day
long tryin' te get the hay-seeds out o' yer six sassy
tow-heads. Now I tell ye what it is,' she says,
turnin' from her dough en p'intin' the rollin'-pin
straight at him, * you've got the hive en you've got a
bee te boss it, but what hez she got '( Why, she's got
six young drones, not includin' two yaller dogs en
yerself, en if I had wings, ez I hed orter hev, I'd
take a bee-line fer a hive that's got some vittles in it.'

" When Uriah asked him how he wus gettin' on
with his queen bee, he said :

" ' She's workin' the comb all right, but she stings
with her tongue wus'n any hornet I ever bumped
agin.'

" His fust wife druv him te drinkin' en this one
druv him te religion. He got converted, but fust off
she wus dead set agin preachers, en scuffled up agin

v.s. i

114 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

preachin' en prayin' in dead earnest till Hay wood was
most druv crazy. When Pete Cartwright come long
one day he says she stormed en raved en used cuss
words, en when he said he wus goin' te pray right in
the cabin she shook her fist in his face en 'lowed she
wus one half alligator en t'other half snappin' turtle,
en dared him te put her out, ez he said he would if
she didn't behave ; she said it 'ud take a better man
than he wus te do it.

" While he wus prayin' she got awful mad. She
called him all the names she could think of, en threw
the cat at his head, en then Pete Cartwright up en
took hold of her arm en swung her clean te the door,
en out she went. He slammed the door in her face, en
of all the rippin' en roarin' ye ever heerd that wus the
wust.

" He barred the door agin her and went right on
with his prayin' ; but land ! with a she-devil scratchin'
te get in a man ud hev te be a reg'lar angel with
wings not te be riled en flustered in his pleadin's ; so
he jes' turned the table on her, stopped prayin' en
begin to sing ez loud ez ever he could beller — en ye
better b'lieve he could shout when he got fixed fer it,
en the louder she screamed en roared outside, the
louder he sung inside, en they kept it up till she
begin te pant fer breath. He kept right on till she
knocked on the door en hollered out :

" ' Mr. Cartwright, do please let me in ! '

" < Well,' he said, < I'll let ye come in if ye'll
promise te behave yerself.'

She said she would ; so he opened the door en led
her te a seat near the fire-place, en he says he never
see a woman so pale en tremblin'.

SOWING AND HEAPING 115

" < I've been a big fool,' she says.

" < 1 'lowye hev,' says Pete Cartwright, < en ye'llhev
te repent fer all yer sins or yell go te perdition.'

" She hung her head en plumb give up fer shame.
The poor little children were all huddled under the bed,
en he called 'em out en told 'em their mother wouldn't
hurt 'em now, en with that he started prayin' ag'in
with Haywood, en in six months she was converted
en the folks in that cabin made real happy."

In the evening the riding of the young ladies for
prizes at the county fair was discussed. All had
something to say concerning this momentous
incident.

" I've been attendin' kyounty fairs 'most all my
life," said one, " en it did take the rag off the bush te
see the way the cuttin's up o' thet ole chestnut sp'iled
the ridin' o' them po' gals."

" What I want te know is who put Almedy Sin-
clair te ride on sech a critter," said another.

" Well," said Mrs. Busby, "ye don't reckon
Almedy Sinclair's green enough te pick out sech a
rib-breaker te ride on all by herself, do ye ? — en she
one of the best j edges o' hoss-flesh in this hull district.
Why, that gal thinks nothin' o' ridin' bare-back en
breakin' the wust mustang ye kin bring her. I've see
her do it. She sets a-hossback ez easy ez ye're settin'
in that rockin'-cheer. No, sir-ree, ye better look fer
someone with more green in their eye before ye ask
me te b'lieve she went roamin' roun' the country jes'
te choose sech a rip-tearin' bucker fer a saddle-hoss,
en she settin' her cap fer fust prize ! Almedy Sin-
clair ain't that kind. Ye see," she continued, warming
to the subject, " the man that owned that chestnut fust

i 2

116 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

off went te the Mexican war en rid him in the battle
o' Bueny Visty, en there's where a bullet nipped the
top off one o' his marrer-bones, a leetle behind the
saddle, en that was the beginnin' o' the kickin' en the
buckin' ; but some say after the wowned got healed
he kept the buckin' up jest fer ole time's sake. When
his owner come back from the war he sold him fer a
good draw-hoss, b'lievin' him te be right safe te pull
a wagon, en when the man that bought him was
fordin' a creek in flood-time the hoss kicked every-
thing te pieces right in the middle o' the creek. His
next owner was a Baptist preacher who took te dram
drinkin' te drown his sorrer at bein' so tuk in by a
sleek, fat hoss en a professin' Christian. The fac' is,
the wowned in his back got healed quick enough, en
it never showed no signs on th' outside, but the bone
wus allers tender, en when the saddle wus put a leetle
too fur back, er when it happened te be a leetle too
long, there was sure to be trouble ; en that double-
dealin' rascal that owns him now knows it, en he fixed te
hev Almedy lose en his own gal win, fer he knew if
Almedy hed a good hoss she'd surely carry off the
prize. Ye see, when a body's used te ridin' hosses
that chaw the bit en prance te one side en rear on
their hind legs, it looks like hoss en gal's both
cunnin' 'nough te show off their good p'ints all te
oncet, en Almedy Sinclair kinder looked fer sum'thin'.
like that in the critter she was ridin'. She expected
te be h'isted a couple o' times, fer a man hollered out
to her, c Sit ez tight ez ye kin ! ' en she knowed what
that meant ; but it didn't mean what she thought.
ThJ ole chestnut warn't no ways stiff in the hind legs
when he started ; but that ain't allers a good sign

SOWING AND REAPING 117

nuther. It allers takes time te git right down te the
weak spot of any beast, but in this here case it looked
like the time wus fore-ordained, ez the preachers say,
right down te the minnit, fer jest ez th' ole hoss come
along in front o' the j edges stand the saddle worked
back till it come agin the tender marrer-bone, en he
stopped like he'd been struck with a bullet. Right
then I hear a man say, £ Watch out ! ' en skasely hed
he spoke when the critter up en give his tail en hind
legs sech a twist that it looked like Almedy 'd surely
land on the critter's neck. It warn't expected ; the
hoss riz at the wrong end. There he stood, stock still,
leavin' Almedy Sinclair settin' like a sack o7 seed
pertaters while t'other gal rid by on her prancin' roan
ez big ez life en twicet ez sassy. Pore Almedy sot till
her hoss riz en shuk his heels ag'in, en ye kin b'lieve
she made a break from that saddle ez mad ez ever ye
see a gal in all yer born days."

CHAPTER XI

THE FLIGHT

THE Indian summer had come, the season of seasons,
with its golden memories, its diaphanous skies, its
dream-like afternoons, its gossamer veils spread over
the shimmering horizon, transforming by its own
transcendent magic the whole earth and atmosphere.

Smoke rose from wooded places in long, thin
columns of hazy blue, and once in a while a whiff of
burning grass and leaves filled the magnetic air with
fragrant odour. The settlers ceased to fret and
worry ; there was neither reaping nor repining.

The sun was setting when I arrived at the Load-
Bearer's home, two days after Isaac Snedeker's visit
to the Log-House. I had brought more provisions for
the fugitives.

" Dear me ! but yer ma is good te send all these
vittles fer the runaways," exclaimed Mrs. Gest as I
emptied my saddle-bags on the kitchen table.

As I was going to stay there till morning we sat
about here and there waiting for the hours to pass
and the coming of Isaac Snedeker, who was to take
the fugitives to the next station that night. We
expected his arrival some time between ten and eleven
o'clock.

How calm and peaceful was the evening !

Now and then a gentle current of wind stirred the
branches, and the leaves fell in flaky showers like

THE FLIGHT 119

snow on ground already strewn with the dead foliage
of autumn.

Far away, the tinkling of bells told of cattle peace-
fully grazing, and the prairie, immense and tranquil
as a golden sea, inspired a feeling as of ages and ages
of repose.

In the west a bank of filmy clouds edged with
silver floated against a sky of glassy green which
gradually melted into serried ranks of flaming amber,
and the sere, crisp leaves of the beech were interlaced
with the red and purple of oak and maple, while the
trees by the creek glistened and sparkled in the genial
rays of the setting sun.

And there was something in the early hours of the
evening that throbbed in ceaseless unison with the
constellations overhead. After darkness closed in all
the witchery of Nature seemed at work in earth and
sky. Above the tree-tops a host of twinkling stars
looked down on the anxious watchers and refugees.
Presently a thin mist descended about us through
which the starry vault and dark masses of trees could
be discerned, with tracings of dim, fantastic forms in
the scattered underbush.

The slanting rays of the rising moon came reaching
in long gleams across the roof of the little frame
house, while its weird shafts shot through the narrow
interspaces of wood and thicket, and gleamed in small
round patches on the green moss underneath. The
scarlet vines all around on the boughs were tipped
with a soft, glistening pallor that fell as from some
ghostly lantern from a distant world, while just above
the horizon, poised like an aerial plume in the deep
indigo blue, the vanishing comet waned amidst a

120 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

wilderness of glittering lights under a shimmering
crown of stars.

During a moment of profound quiet, when it seemed
as if all Nature had sunk to rest, a wolf beyond the
creek began a series of long-drawn-out howls. The
woods began to vibrate with low, clamorous calls.
The howling drew nearer; one of the wolf-hounds
answered back in pitiful cries, then another and
another. Everywhere call answered call. A rushing
sound filled the space above us where vast flocks of
wildfowl cut the air with the swish and rustle of a
thousand wings. The honking came and went as
flock after flock passed over us in whizzing waves.
The whole world was stirring. Earth sent up a
chorus of lamentations that mingled with the voices
above. The fugitives huddled together in the cave in
expectation of some unimagined calamity, and at last,
unable to withstand the feeling of terror, they began
to creep up towards the house.

The Load-Bearer, who had gone into the kitchen,
fell on his knees, with the Bible open before him on
the chair, while his wife sat just inside, with her
hands tightly clasped, peering intently through the
open door across the clear patches of moonlight.

Soon he rose and hurriedly walked out.

" Whar be ye goin' ? " stammered his wife, noticing
his dazed look.

He walked as one in a dream, while Cornelia
followed.

" Elihu, whar be ye goin' ? "

There was a clinking of the chains at the kennels,
and a cry from the wolf-hounds told us they were
free. They sped round and round the house in a

THE FLIGHT 121

whirl of excitement, then into the woods and back
again to the house, giving the last shudder to the
climax of confusion before they made off towards the
main road leading south-west.

Then, as by a wave of some invisible wand, the
tumult ceased. The woods and the house lay plunged
in an all-pervading stillness. The country round
about seemed suddenly dipped in a gulf of silence.

The Load-Bearer came back to the kitchen and
again fell on his knees. After some moments he
began to read aloud :

" ' Alas, for that day is great, so that none is like
it; it is even the time of Jacob's trouble; but he
shall be saved out of it.' "

"Whar be they?" mused Cornelia, not listening
to her husband. " It's gettin' late . . . Brother
Snedeker said he'd be here at ten o'clock."

Her hair had fallen down on one side of her face ;
she looked sad and very troubled. She was over-
burdened with the loads of others, with loads which
she had not sought, which life and death had heaped
together in one short, swift period of time, and she
felt crushed under their weight. But Elihu Gest,
absorbed in prayer, heard nothing, saw nothing,
thought of nothing but the Eternal.

Now he read aloud from Isaiah :

" ( Awake, awake, 0 Jerusalem, which hast drunk
of the hand of the Lord the cup of His fury ; thou
hast drunken the dregs of the cup of trembling and
wrung them out."

He remained silent for a moment, and when he
continued it was with a voice full of prophetic faith :

" ' Thus saith the Lord thy God that pleadeth the

122 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

cause of His people, behold I have taken out of thine
hand the cup of trembling, even the dregs of the cup
of My fury ; thou shalt no more drink it again/ "

The last words had sunk deep into Cornelia's soul.
She seemed to have caught all the mystical power of
those seven magical words : " Thou shalt no more
drink it again." Her eyes grew brighter, her face was
lit by a placid smile, all the old religious faith came
rushing back.

A faint breeze brought with it an aroma of dried
leaves and withering grasses. As the moon rose higher
in the heavens the night grew brighter. Not far from
the door a group of fugitives stood gazing intently at
Cornelia Gest, the pallid faces of the octoroons forming
a sort of spectral frame for the black faces in the
centre. Here and there, around the house, murmurs
and half -suppressed groans and supplications arose, for
the runaways had brought to the Load-Bearer's home
a new world, with new and unheard-of influences.
There were fugitives from nearly every slave State
bordering the Mississippi; they brought with them
their own peculiar beliefs, their own interpretations of
certain signs and sounds of the night. All had been
awed by the appearance of the comet, but now a
terrible fear possessed them. For each one every sound
came as a special menace, every object had a special
symbol.

The Load-Bearer rose from his knees, and as he
stepped to the door one of the wolf-hounds, covered
with blood- stains, was there to greet him. The others
were not far off, and all had evidently done their work.

" Somethin' hez happened down on the road," said
Cornelia.

THE FLIGHT 128

" They hev nipped some evil in the bud/' returned
Elihu.

But Cornelia peered without ceasing in one direction,
anxiously awaiting the arrival of Isaac Snedeker.

" Thar's someone a-comin' now," remarked the
Load-Bearer.

But we still waited, gazing into the distance. The
last hour had seemed endless. We walked down
towards the creek to pass away the time, then returned
and stood in the moonlight. Elihu Gest was trying to
make out what the object was that we now saw
approaching from the east. It came looming up in the
thin mist that hung over the road, growing bigger as
it drew nearer ; and the fugitives, seeing it approach,
sought refuge in the darkness behind the house, some
running as far as the creek.

Not one was visible ; not a murmur was to be heard.
A ghostly silence greeted Azariah James, the preacher,
as he came ambling up on a horse that seemed to glide
over the surface of the ground. There he sat for some
moments, speechless, and at first I did not recognise
him, clad as he was in hunting costume, with a fringe
about the cape, a coon-skin cap on his head, a rifle slung
over his shoulders, and a pistol and dirk before him.

But the man himself had not changed. It was the
same face, naively absent-minded and wonderingly
mute, that I had seen at the meeting-house — the man
who began his sermon by a series of blunders and then
glided along by some miraculous means to an unex-
pected and memorable triumph. Now, as then, he
looked as if he were floating along with the tide and
the hour, ready for the unforeseen without expecting
it, armed for trouble without fearing it.

124 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

We stood looking at the preacher and he at us, but
no one spoke.

What an enigmatical group we must have been to
the peeping fugitives a little distance away ! There
sat Azariah James, the preacher, twin brother in spirit
to Elihu Gest, the Load-Bearer ; yet what a contrast
they presented ! The preacher appeared double his
natural size, clothed in a hunter's garb, awaiting some
mysterious command ; and the Load-Bearer, thinner,
smaller, almost wizened, seemed to be awaiting some
word or sign on the part of the preacher.

And a sign did come ; but not from Azariah James.
Down to the south, through the thick groves of beech,
a yellow light rose and fell and rose again in slow
waving flashes over the horizon, its glow reaching
above the wooded cover, and even beyond the belted
line of timber to the east.

"Whatkinthetbe?"

It was Cornelia who spoke, for the two men were
still rapt in a kind of mystical quandary.

" Thar's sunthin' goin' on down thar er my name
ain't Elihu Gest, en the Lord ain't sent ye, Azariah,"
remarked the Load-Bearer.

"I 'low ye're right," replied the preacher; " the
prairie's a-burnin' cl'ar from a mile bey on' Lem
Stephens's, plumb te the bend in the creek."

"The prairie on fire, en at this time o' night!"
exclaimed Cornelia ; " what kin it mean ? "

"Why, it means that the Almighty air with we
uns, en agin Lem Stephens en the slave-catchers."

" Air it runnin' him clost ? "

" Ez fer ez I kin jedge it must be closin' in on him
about now," responded the preacher, with surprising

THE FLIGHT 125

nonchalance. "Apasselo' good-fer-nothin's banded
tharselves together te come over en take off the run-
aways en git the rewards. They 'lowed te be hyar by
this time so ez te head off Brother Snedeker. I come
right by Lem Stephens's en see 'em let the blood-
hounds loose, en jest ez the hounds lit out over this
way the prairie began te blaze, so all hands stayed
right thar te watch the place/'

The Load-Bearer began to shake off his seeming
lethargy.

" Whar be the blood-hounds now ? " he asked.

"Wharbe they? I reckon they air right whar
yer dogs en my pistol left 'em down the road thar."

" They air dead ! " cried Cornelia.

" They air dead ! " echoed a mournful voice behind
the house.

The cry was taken up by other fugitives, who
imagined Isaac Snedeker and his friends had been
assassinated.

" Dey's all dead ! Dey done killed 'em off ! " arose
on all sides from the dark forms now emerging from
their hiding-places.

An ever-increasing glamour shone through the
woods to the south, and the runaways now saw it for
the first time. It hushed their cries and murmurs as
if a damper had suddenly been placed over their mouths.

Azariah James got off his horse, tied up, and
followed Cornelia Gest into the kitchen.

" 'Pears like they won't never git here to-night,"
she sighed.

" 'Bout how many d'ye expect ? "

" Brother Snedeker en two er three more ; but he's
a-comin' te carry the runaways te the nex' station.

126 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

I don't calc'late he'll stay more'n long 'nough te load
up en git away ez quick ez iver he kin."

There were sounds of horses' hoofs and wagon wheels
outside.

Cornelia Gest went to the door.

" Thank the Lord ye've got here at last ! " she
exclaimed, greeting a slender man with a long,
greyish beard, who was helping out an elderly woman
clad in deep black.

" It's Squar Higgins," said Cornelia; " en Sister
Higgins hez come along te cher a body by thet beau-
tiful smile o' her'n ; Elihu allers says it's like the
grace o' God a-smilin' on the hull world when shes

arounV

And so it was ; for Martha Higgins was another of
those wonderful women whose very presence diffused
an influence of peace and harmony. Her faith and
confidence in the Divine goodness were incorruptible
and never-ending. She brought with her a radiant
power that aroused the preacher to thoughts of praise
and thanksgiving for all the mercies of the past and
present. With her presence, the terrors of the night
receded, and the preacher, with his eyes half closed,
began to hum a few bars of a favourite hymn.

Meanwhile the Load-Bearer had quietly slipped
away to have a look over the prairie. He had climbed
a large withered tree which stood on a knoll, and was
watching a thin tongue of fire licking up the grass
away towards the bend in the creek not far from Lem
Stephens' s frame house. From this tree he had often
looked out before, but never on such a sight as this.
He watched the flames dart up here and there in
sudden flashes as they caught the strips of taller

THE FLIGHT 127

grass in the low soil near the water, dying down
where the ground was higher and the grass thinner.
He could not at first make out in what direction the
flames were moving, nor could he yet tell whether
they had reached the frame house. The whole region
before him lay circled in a rim of fire. Never had he
been in such intimate communion with the mighty
forces of the Eternal ; never had he felt the breath of
the night come with so much inspiration and judg-
ment. It seemed to Elihu Gest that fire had descended
from the skies, that a ban had been placed on the
movements of evil-doers in that section and for miles
around ; and while he pondered and marvelled over
the wonders of the night he felt the " Living Presence "
throb through his being with a quickening power that
lifted him clear above and away from mortal things.
He shouted aloud one of his favourite passages from
the Old Testament. He was about to descend when a
long sheet of flame leaped into the sky. Lem Stephens's
house was ablaze : it was burning like a box of
tinder. Now the barn caught ; now the brushwood
behind the house was blazing. The border of the
creek was a mass of flame. It looked as if a fiery
serpent were moving in a zigzag along its border,
rising and falling on great wings of fire, then dis-
appearing, to rise again in another place.

A current of wind was created by the heat, and
flames darted from the other side of the water.

When he returned, Elihu Gest found Isaac Snede-
ker — who had brought several more refugees with him
— the two Higgins', Azariah James, and Cornelia, all
sitting in a semi- circle in the kitchen, and after
greeting Mr. Snedeker he took a seat at one end.

128 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

There followed a period of deep, devotional quietude
in which each one sat as if alone. There was the
grey-bearded Squire Higgins, with his big brows and
kindly face ; there was Cornelia Gest, slender, frail
and shrunken, in her seat ; there was Azariah James,
whose broodings defied all divination; there was
Isaac Snedeker, stern and restless as an eagle about
to take wing ; and Martha Higgins, whose high,
massive forehead and arching nose contrasted strangely
with the bountiful kindness of her dreamy eyes, while
her smile expressed a faith that was infinite and
undying.

At one end sat Elihu Gest, obscure carrier of other
people's loads, impulsive and enigmatical seer, last in
the long procession of the ante-bellum prophets of old
Illinois.

A shout was heard, and Elihu looked at Martha
Higgins as he said : —

" They ain't calc'lated te understand what it air
thet's workin' out te save them."

" Martha had a presentiment before we came,"
observed Squire Higgins. " I have never known her
to be wrong."

"Who lit thet fire?" queried Cornelia Gest.
" 'Twarn't you, Brother Snedeker ? "

" That's what I've been wanting to know : I came
near being caught in it, and now I'll have to wait here
till I see how far it's going to spread."

" It hez plumb licked up Lem Stephens's house,"
said the Load-Bearer. " I see it from the big tree."

" I want te know ! " exclaimed Cornelia.

"Thar ain't nothin' left by this time. If Lem
Stephens en the slave-hunters ain't hidin' in the water

THE FLIGHT 129

they air burnt up. Thar's a mighty power movin'
over the yearth ; I ain't see a night sech ez this sence
the comet fust appeared. "

Isaac Snedeker went out with Squire Higgins to
survey the land. A wall of fire rose above the creek,
to the south ; an immense, palpitating glow lit the
sky — a glow that flashed like sheet-lightning along
the course of the creek, for a wind had risen which
forced the flames straight towards the Load-Bearer's
home. There was a rushing sound where it began to
skim the upper branches ; then a current of warm air
struck through the open space leading from the creek
to the house. The woods rang with the screaming of
birds ; the howling of a wolf again haunted the lonely
plains to the north, and a little later an awful roar
told that the fire had reached the tall, thick grass and
brushwood that lined the water's edge not more than a
quarter of a mile from the house.

"De comet done struck de yearth! De world's
burnin' up ! "

The runaways no longer thought of slave-hunters
and a return to bondage. For them all was at an
end ; and from a sort of dumb despair there issued
forth groans and exclamations of, " Mercy, Lord !
mercy, mercy ! "

Yet two or three were on the point of escaping to
the woods.

Isaac Snedeker, seeing the danger, called out :

" All who run away will be caught ! "

Squire Higgins hardly knew what to do. The
night seemed like day. The roar of the fire could be
heard, ever a little nearer, ever more ominous and
awful.

v.s. K

180 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

" If we have to quit," he said at last, " there's not a
minute to lose ! "

He was thinking of the safety of the women.

Even the invincible Isaac Snedeker was shaken by
forebodings of evil. But when they returned to the
kitchen and beheld the Load-Bearer in the same place,
self-poised, self-contained, all doubts departed.

" 'Twixt here and thar, thar's a swamp and a
patchin' o' oak thet won't ketch, en the grass air
sparse and spindlin', en then comes the big trees.
But thar's sunthin' else besides the wind thet' s bio win'
them flames, Squar Higgins."

Even as he spoke the light from the fire was
gradually descending out of the zenith. Lower and
lower it fell. In about ten minutes nothing but a dim
outline of glimmering yellow could be discerned far
beyond the belt of woods, and once more the moon-
light reigned ; the patches of light were brighter, the
shadows deeper ; the wings of unrest were folded, and
silence returned with a twofold presage.

" It air about time," said the Load-Bearer, rising
and placing his hand on the preacher's shoulder. " It
air time te begin," he intimated to Squire Higgins
and Isaac Snedeker.

They all left the kitchen except Cornelia Gest,
Martha Higgins, and myself. Cornelia's face assumed
a pensive look ; she wiped away a tear, and said in a
quavering voice :

" God be praised ! He allowed her te pass out o'
this world in peace. I'm right happy te have ye here,
Sister Higgins, en I jes' knowed ye'd come over when
Elihu sent ye word."

" I don't know of anything that could have kept

THE FLIGHT 131

me from coming, Sister Gest," replied Mrs. Higgins,
" I had a presentiment that she would die right
here."

" We couldn't git her te talk about herself, nur
give her name, nur nothin' ; they're all so afeared
they'll be sent back te bondage. Thar ain't on'y Mr.
Snedeker en Brother James en yerselves ez knows
'bout her havin' died here. If thar warn't so many
good people aroun' I'd give right up, seein' so many
wicked. But Elihu said he war boun' te have prayers
en his favourite hymn sung at the funeral."

Now for the first time I knew that the quadroon had
passed away and that this night was appointed for her
burial.

We had not long to wait, for presently Squire
Higgins came and announced that all was ready.
When we got to the graveside, near the creek, all the
fugitives stood around, some of them holding lanterns,
the black faces appearing strangely unnatural in the
flickering light, the faces of the quadroons and
octoroons more ghostly. Under the trees, half in the
moonlight, half in shadow, it seemed as if a great
multitude were crowding up from behind, eager to
catch every sound that might pass from anyone's lips.

A soft breeze moved among the last sere leaves of
autumn. Now and then a gentle gust swayed the
lower branches to and fro, and an infinitely tender
sighing came and went and melted away in the eerie
moonlight.

The preacher took off his tightly-fitting cap and
with it his hair stood out in wild rumpled locks. He
seemed to loom taller and taller. He looked as if he
had forgotten all he had intended to say, and was

K 2

132 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

standing there helpless and forsaken at the brink of
a grave, over the dead he had come to bury.

" Praise God ! " murmured the Load-Bearer, who
alone of all the persons there seemed to understand.

Azariah James closed his eyes for one or two
seconds ; a slight shiver passed through his frame ;
then he opened them wide and searching, and a
wondrous light flashed out over the awed and speech-
less company. He was no longer an awkward, hesi-
tating dreamer, but a lion aroused, a prophet in his
own country. His listeners began to move and sway
in unison with his immeasurable compassion, and after
he had spoken for ten minutes the Load-Bearer offered
up a short, fervent prayer. Then, when the last
scene was about to begin, the voice of Martha Higgins
rang out above the open grave :

"On Jordan's stormy banks I stand
And cast a wistful eye " —

A loud, rolling wave of song passed in long, reaching
echoes through the woods as the twenty-nine persons
present sent their voices calling —

" To Canaan's fair and happy land
Where my possessions lie,"

for now every voice was attuned to the old matchless
melody of the meeting-house and the camp-ground.

As the hymn proceeded the sense of time was
obliterated. A far-sweeping chorus, tinged here and
there with a nameless melancholy, floated upward into
the white silence of the night. On and on they sang,
and the old hymn rolled out in a miracle of sound, on
a river of golden melody, vibrating far into regions of
infinite light and love.

THE FLIGHT 183

Isaac Snedeker gathered up the runaways and
prepared for flight. He separated them into two
groups — one he would carry in his own wagon, the
other was for Squire Higgins. It did not take long,
and the two wagon loads set out in the clear moon-
light. A little way towards the north they would
separate, each going according to a prearranged plan ;
and every fugitive arrived at last safely in Canada,
which was, after all, the land of Canaan for them.

CHAPTEE XII

THE CAMP-MEETING

ON the morning of the great camp-meeting I stood
at the gate for nearly an hour waiting for a sight of
the Busby wagon, which was to take us, and when it
arrived Uriah Busby was so eager to be off that his
wife had barely time to call out to those standing at
the door to see us depart :

"You see it's jest as I said, Uriah says he'll git
there if it was twice as fur ag'in."

When we got to the main road we began to see signs
of gathering campers, but when we reached a place
called the " mud-holes" people could be seen in every
direction making for this spot where several roads
converged into one.

"Now, Uriah, you ain't a-goin' to land us in the
mud, air ye ? " said Mrs. Busby, as we neared the
deceitful holes. "If there ain't them Wagner boys,
plague take 'em ! I do hope we kin git through afore
they do."

"I reckon they ain't been drinking yet," said her
husband ; " it's too early in the day."

" I don't know 'bout that," returned Serena Busby.
" They don't look accommodating en ye see they're
doin' their level best to git ahead of us."

The Wagner boys were urging on their horses
almost to a gallop.

u Now, Uriah, don't be a fool ; jest rein up en let

THE CAMP-MEETING 135

'em go it all they want to ; the folks at the camp ain't
a-goin' to shout much afore we git there ; en besides,
if ye dump me in the mud it'll be the fust en the last
time."

Uriah Busby did as he was told. The Wagner boys
made a dash for the crossing, but in the rush to be
first they went too far to the right. When they got to
the middle, at a place where the mud looked shallow
but was in reality deep, over went the wagon and out
toppled the brothers.

" Providence air on our side," said Uriah, as he took
extra pains to keep to the left.

" It'll take some o' the dare-devil out of 'em, en if
it had been a Baptist camp-meetin' it ?ud took some
sousin' in the creek to wash the mud from their bodies
as well as the sins from their souls," remarked Mrs.
Busby.

Other travellers followed, all giving that particular
side of the crossing a wide berth. In about three
hours we arrived at another point where we could see
scores of people in wagons, buggies, and on horse-
back, making for the camp, now distant about an
hour. Many of the horses " carried double," while in
some of the big covered wagons sat whole families. A
blinding dust filled the air and covered our clothes, as
we drove along in the wake of others, receiving their
dust and kicking more of it up for those at our heels.
As the day began to grow hot we saw many indulging
in " drams" from the demijohn, and Serena Busby
remarked that there was sure to be some " kickin'-up "
at the camp towards evening.

As we got within two miles of the grounds the whole
populace, for a radius of many miles, seemed to be on

136 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

the move, converging towards one point. From a
slight eminence which we had just attained, com-
manding a view on all sides, a scraggy line of white-
topped wagons could be seen descending a slope to the
right, while to the left, a little below us, another line
of twisting vehicles ascended in a slow, weary train,
enveloped in clouds of dust, now partly hidden behind
clumps of trees, now emerging like the remnant of
some scattered army crawling towards the precincts of
a friendly country. Once in a while we were passed by
young men on horseback who galloped their horses ;
others, in light buggies, shot past the heavy wagons
and were soon out of sight ; hundreds were on foot,
looking neither to the right nor to the left, and these,
as Uriah Busby observed, were the ones in dead
earnest, bound to get there no matter how.

We drove into the camp grounds about one o'clock,
and found two or three thousand persons already there,
with others pouring in by the hundred.

A shed had been erected large enough to shelter
several thousand persons, and out in the woods,
beyond the confines of the meeting-grounds, groups
of old reprobates and young rowdies had taken their
stand with whisky barrels and demijohns ready to
supply all who cared for strong drink, some of them
armed with pistols and murderous-looking knives.
Everyone was eating or getting ready to eat, for the
women had brought a goodly supply of edibles.
Tents were put up by some, while others would sleep
in the covered wagons, the men mostly under the
wagons or under the shed. It looked like an immense
gathering for a picnic ; and it was impossible to say
from the expression of people's faces what sort of a

THE CAMP-MEETING 187

meeting it was, for no one seemed over-anxious ; all
seemed contented to be there let come what may.
Indeed, Mrs. Busby was right when she said :—

" Te jedge by their looks they hev all saved their
souls en air now attendin' to their bodies, not te git
te the other world afore their time."

Uriah Busby unhitched the horses at a spot near
the creek, and after dinner Serena began to look
about her.

Presently she discovered someone she knew.

" Why, if there ain't Zack Caverly, of all people
in the world ! "

« Wai, I'll be blamed ! " exclaimed Mr. Busby.
" Ye don't reckon he's come te sell whisky,
do ye?"

"I reckon not. Zack's ez sober ez an owl, en ye
know it. Wai ! If there ain't Minerva Wagner ! I
want to know how she got here ! Must hev come
a-hossback, if she didn't come in a neighbour's
wagon, fearin' te risk her neck with them two good-
fer-nothin's."

And, sure enough, there was Mrs. Wagner, seated
on a big stump, talking to Ebenezer Hicks.

" My word ! " said Uriah Busby ; " it do give me a
disagreeable feelin' to see them fire-eatin' Baptists
settin' there waitin' fer te stir up mischief agin the
Abolitionists en the Methodists. They ain't out here
fer any good, I kin tell ye."

" You better b'lieve they ain't here fer any religion
they kin pick up ; I believe I ain't never seen her
look so sour and spiteful."

Zack Caverly led his horse over and settled himself
near our wagon.

138 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

" I heerd ye war comin',' ' he said, " en the weather
bein' fine I fixed te ride over en take things sort o'
easy durin' meetin' time."

u Hev ye see many folks ye know ? " asked Uriah
Busby.

" The whole kintry's turnin' out ; thar's goin' te be
the biggest meetin' ever holdin' in this section. Ye
see, it's the fire-eatin' question thet's got hold on 'em,
en they all want te see which a- way the black cat's
a-goin' te jump. Summow, right er wrong, the
people hev an idee that this here meetin' ain't so much
fer religion ez it air fer politics, en thet's why ye see
so many Baptists en Campbellites en Presbyterians en
members o' the Methodist Church South sprinkled all
over the grounds. I heerd a man say they've got
Abe Lincoln on the brain."

" Tears to me," said Mrs. Busby, " it's niggers
more likely."

The afternoon and evening of Thursday were given
up to preliminary services and to getting the huge
meeting into working order, and on Friday afternoon
the number of people on the ground was computed at
twenty thousand.

Keligious services were held three times a day, and
in case of a revival the evening service would be pro-
tracted far into the night, perhaps all night, as it often
happened at such gatherings. But somehow the
meetings on Friday seemed without any signs of
enthusiasm; the people listened with respect to all
that was said, and they sang with a hearty will, but
there was something lacking. Uriah Busby remarked
to Zack Caverly that it was a spark from Heaven
that was wanting, to which the old pioneer replied

THE CAMP-MEETING 139

that he thought so too, as there was plenty of tinder
in the congregation.

Before the evening service on this day, Friday,
Elihu Gest, Squire Higgins, Azariah James, and
several others decided on going out into the woods to
a lonely spot and praying for a revival at the next
service.

The people were all expectation at meeting-time,
the preachers did their best, exhorters exhorted, but
there were no happy shouts, no groans of mental
misery, no conviction of sins. Squire Higgins said he
had often seen the like before, and counselled hope and
courage, but the Load-Bearer was certain they had
not prayed with sufficient faith and fervour. " The
people," he declared, " air all right, but they must be
tetched."

Saturday came, and at the morning service it was
decided to have a short but positive sermon on the
sins of the times, with some pointed remarks against
slavery ; for a good many were of the opinion that
this would fire up the people and prepare a way for a
revival in the afternoon. The sermon was preached
by a stranger from Missouri, but it failed to do more
than create a lively interest in the political questions
of the hour, and, curious to relate, just as this meeting
was brought to a close the negroes on the ground, who
numbered between two and three hundred, began a
meeting of their own off at one side of the white
camp, where certain freed negroes were found who
actually believed in slavery.

Their meeting was conducted in the orthodox
Methodist manner ; but those of the coloured people
who belonged to the Methodist Church South were

140 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

believers in slavery, while the Methodist Church North
were against it, many of its members being extreme
Abolitionists. The coloured meeting was conducted
by two negro exhorters, presided over by a white
preacher, and when the exercises began by the singing
of a popular hymn :

" De golden chariot's hangin' low,
My breddern you'll be called on " —

the whole meeting, as Zack Caverly said, was soon
put in the " weaving way"; the great yellow eyes
began to roll in a sort of subdued ecstasy, the black
faces beamed contentment, and woolly heads rocked
in keeping with the lilt of the music.

It was not long before a tall, glossy black negro,
with small, piercing eyes and thick lips, rose, and
with a look of mingled humour and cynicism, began
to speak.

" Breddern an' sistern," he said ; " some o' you done
hearn w'at de preacher ober in de white camp said
'bout dis yer slavery biznuz, an' I wuz askin' to myself
ez I sot an7 heerd you all singin' an' gettin' happy—
which is better fer de coloured folks, to be boun' in
dis wurrul an' free in de nex', er te be free in dis
wurrul an' boun' after you am dead ? "

He licked his lips and eyed the congregation for a
moment before proceeding.

"I ain't got time to stan' heah an7 answer no
questions 'bout de rights an' de wrongs ob de coloured
folks, but I 'low dar's some folks in dis meetin' wat's
run away fr'm der mastahs an' ain't in no hurry to go
back. But which am it better to do — cross ober
Jordan inter Canaan, er cross de State line inter

THE CAMP-MEETING 141

Canada ? I'se gwine to make de observation 'bout de
black snake w'at change his skin, kase some ob you
settin' heah to-day done gone and made de change an*
ain't no-ways better off.

" Dar wuz a black snake w'at lef home an7 ?gin ter
wander roun', but de sun gittin' sorter hot he say ter
hissef, ' I reckin hit's 'bout time fer to shed dis heah
skin, hit gittin' too hot to carry ' ; so he des slip hit
off, an' he done felt he gwine ter fly instead er crawl
on de groun'. When de night come on de wedder
done git mighty cole, an' 'fo' long he come 'cross a
skin a rattle- snake des shuck hissef out'n. Mist' black
snake say ter hissef, ' I des 'bout slip in dar an' keep
warm ' ; but he ain't no sooner slip in dan 'long come
a white man wid a big stick an' he say, i I don't
nebber kill no black snakes, but I kill all de rattle-
snakes I ebber come 'cross,' and wid dat he up an' kill
de black snake fust lick.

u Now, breddern, dis heah ain't no sermon. I'se
speakin' in w'at dey calls de paraboils ; dat's de
meanin"1 ob de observation fer de coloured folks, an'
dat is — don't nebber change yo' 'ligion, an' don't
nebber run away fr'm yo' masters."

Despair took possession of the runaways who were
sitting listening, and during the proceedings that
followed one of the fugitives sought counsel of Isaac
Snedeker, who was attending the camp-meeting and
who had arranged that a number of runaways were to
gather here, this being considered the safest plan that
could be devised to accomplish their liberation.

The sensation created by the negro's story was such
that for the space of half an hour no preaching, nor
singing, nor exhorting would move the congregation ;

142 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

but after a vigorous effort on the part of the preacher
and exhorters a movement of revival became apparent
at the farthest end of the meeting, seeing which one
of the exhorters pointed over the heads of the people,
and, with an angry look, cried out :

" Muster up dem mo'ners dar ! Prone 'em up,
Brudder Dixon. Brudder Luke Henry, mourn up
dem w'ats a-pantm* an' faintin' down dar in de furder
aisle. Sis' Jones, whar's yo' singin'- voice ? You ain't
been out las' night a-imitatin' dem squinch-owls, is
you ? Now, help 'long dar ! I 'low we goin' keep
Satan fr'm clippin' yo' wings by de Lord's help dis
day."

The meeting of the coloured people proceeded in
due order, and by the time it came to an end the
afternoon service began in the main camp. The
people sat and listened but did not respond, and some
of the leaders were haunted by a presentiment of
failure. To make matters worse, the drunken rowdies
beyond the camp began to harass the preachers from
the rear, near the creek. Under the influence of cheap,
fiery whisky some of them acted like madmen, and a
plan was concocted to duck Azariah James in the
creek in the evening, after the last service.

The evening meeting began early and lasted till
late. At its close another consultation was held among
the preachers. Once more it was declared necessary
to go out and plead for grace and power to bring
about a revival. Uriah Busby advised his wife
to invite Elihu Gest and Azariah James over to the
wagon to take a " cold check, ez brother Gest looks
clean washed out en Brother James caved in, after
that long sermon o' his'n."

THE CAMP-MEETING 148

" A cold check ! " exclaimed Serena ; " you better
b'lieve they want somethin' else besides hard boiled
eggs en bread en butter. I'll fix 'em up some real
strong coffee, steamin' hot. I kin boil the water in a
jiffy in that new kittle we brought long; en I
calc'late we'll take a nip o' somethin' er nuther ez long
ez we're 'bout it, fer I feel a mite caved in myself, en
I reckin ye all do. I declare to goodness, Uriah,
I ain't see ye look so floppy since the comet scare 1 "

The two invited guests came, and Mrs. Busby
spread a cloth on the ground and was about to prepare
the meal with the hot coffee when suddenly the Load-
Bearer interposed :

" Jes' wait a while, Sister Busby. 'Tain't no use —
I cain't wrastle with the sperit on a full stommick.
I ain't never hed no prayers answered that a-way.
We've got te go out yander en pray, en if ever I felt
the need of it it's right now. "

"The meetin' wus sorter cold, en thet's a fac', said
Uriah Busby.

" It war lukewarm ; thet's the wust thing a man
kin say, for it shows thet the people feel comfortable-
like in thar sins."

" It's a pity Pete Cartwright's too feeble to be here,"
remarked Serena, " fer if he wus he'd put 'em into hot
water quicker'n lightnin'. A lot o' them folks don't
want preachin' half so much ez brimstone; some
preachers carry it in their pockets like, en jes' throw
it over the people."

The preachers were gone about a quarter of an hour
and then returned to the Busby wagon and partook
of refreshments. The Load-Bearer's face was beaming
with contentment.

144 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

" I feel like our prayers hev been heerd at the
throne o' grace," he said, as he seated himself on the
ground and took the coffee Mrs. Busby offered him in
a large tin cup ; " en this is the fust time I've hed the
feelin1 since the meetin' opened. Te-morrer's the day."

" It most allers is,"1 remarked Uriah.

" Thefs so," added Mrs. Busby ; " it takes two or
three days fer a meetin' like this te git het through
en through."

" I hev noticed more'n oncet how Sunday kin be
favoured by an outpourin' o' the Sperit ; en if Sunday
passes 'thout a shakin' o1 dry bones thar ain't much
hope left fer any protracted meetin'."

" Thetfs a fac', Brother Gest," remarked Azariah
James ; " Sunday's the holy day in more ways 'n one.
What's done hez te be done, en will be done
te-morrer."

"Here comes Brother Snedeker ! "

" Law me ! " exclaimed Serena. "I've been wonderin'
what hed become o' ye."

" And I have been hunting for you all," he said,
coming up to the circle. " There are a good many
rowdies and cut-throats on the outskirts of the camp,
and it looks as if they were hatching mischief ; they
have been drinking hard all the evening and are still
at it."

" Air thar any slave-drivers among 'em ? " asked
Uriah.

"Not that I know of, but they are all enemies of
this meeting, and they are being encouraged by the
whisky-drinkers and pro-slavery Christians."

" But we ain't been disturbed in the meetings yet,
that's one good thing."

THE CAMP-MEETING 145

" No, but there's been fighting out round the
whisky-wagons every time the people assemble for
preaching. We are forming a company to protect the
preachers and the services to-morrow. "We've got to
get at least a hundred men enrolled as watchmen, and
another hundred who will swear to up and help if the
watchmen prove insufficient."

" I ain't got no special fears no- ways," said Elihu
Gest; "that is, not now."

" But ye hed before ye went out te wrastle," said
Uriah Busby.

" I tell you what it is, brethren," said Isaac
Snedeker, u I shall not be able to remain at the camp
longer than to-morrow midnight. I have three or
four loads of runaways to look after, and you, Brother
Gest, will have to take a party of ten. Brother
James will be allotted about the same number, and
111 take as many as my wagon will hold."

" I reckon," said the Load-Bearer, " we'll hev te
fix te git clear o' the camp by Sunday night, fust
thing after preachin' closes."

" Here comes Squire Higgins ! " exclaimed Serena ;
" sumthin's th' matter ! "

" We want all hands over by the preachers'
tent," he said hurriedly ; " there's going to be
trouble."

The Squire carried a stout hickory stick, and advised
all the others to arm themselves with the same kind
of weapon.

Most of the campers were asleep by this time, but
as we approached the spot indicated excited talk
could be heard and groups of men gathered as if in
consultation.

V.S. L

146 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

The preachers' tent stood behind the public platform,
midway between it and the creek, and here stood the
wagons, buggies, and rockaways of the preachers and
elders. The ruffians began by imitating the crowing
of cocks, the squealing of pigs, the shouting of " con-
victed " sinners, the mewing of cats ; and while one
band was engaged in holding the attention of the
preachers, another began to move off one of the
buggies to roll it over the bank into the creek, which
was ten feet deep at this place.

Elder Johnson's buggy was already wheeled to
within a few feet of the bank ; two of the rowdies
were about to let it fall into the water when Isaac
Snedeker brought his hickory stick down on the back
of the leader with such force that a cry of pain went
up from the culprit. The buggy was abandoned, but,
in the meantime, Azariah James had been seized from
behind by two powerful ruffians and was being led to
the creek to be thrown in. He went without offering
the slightest resistance ; but just as they reached the
bank the muscular preacher turned nimbly, and
bobbing up and down twice, in the twinkling of an eye,
he flung into the creek first one, then the other of his
would-be duckers. While this was going on another
carriage was being rolled towards the water, about
twenty yards away. This band was headed by the
two Wagner boys, who, sufficiently intoxicated to be
reckless of danger, were pulling the buggy by the
shafts ; but while they were pulling it in front others
were pushing from behind, and when they came to the
brink over went the buggy and the two brothers into
the creek! Mingled shouts of victory and derision
went up, and it was some time before the younger of

THE CAMP-MEETING 147

the two got out of the water and climbed, half drowned,
up the bank.

Several knock-down fights were going on in the
vicinity, and amidst the general uproar no one had
time to think of the lifeless body of the other brother,
now lying in the creek.

Azariah James, Elder Johnson, Isaac Snedeker, and
their assistants, had given the ringleaders a severe
drubbing, stripped them of their weapons and driven
them, like so many sheep, in every direction.

Azariah James and Isaac Snedeker now formed a
party to attack the venders of whisky, which they
did at the break of day, driving them from the place
after pouring out the whisky on the ground.

Not a cloud was to be seen when the sun rose that
Sunday morning. The smoke from the breakfast fires
curled slowly up through the trees, and the odour of
burning leaves and dry twigs perfumed the air with
delicious fragrance. The day was warm ; people felt
it was good to be alive, and many expressed a wish
that life would always be just like this.

Elihu Gest was right when he predicted that
nothing much would come of the morning service.
Serena Busby said the only two things the people did
with spirit was eating and singing. Alone, of all the
leaders in the camp, the Load-Bearer took a joyful
view of the religious situation. The others were
growing more and more pessimistic.

" The people air plumb sot in the sins o' the flesh,"
was what Elder Johnson said when he left the plat-
form after the morning service ; but Elihu Gest went
so far as to whistle with " good feelin's," so that many
of the preachers began to regard him as somewhat

L 2

148 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

suspect in earnestness. The proceedings at the after-
noon meeting were little more than a repetition of the
preceding service ; Elihu Gest, however, was nowhere
to be seen and Uriah Busby guessed he was " away
summars wrastlin' fer extry power."

The night settled down on the camp clear, calm, and
beautiful ; the people gathered in their places before
the great platform and altar palings a full half-hour
before the time fixed for the opening exercises, and
the number present exceeded that of any meeting yet
held.

However, services did not begin for some little
time after the hour fixed, as the body of the drowned
man was not discovered in the creek till now, and the
preachers were engaged in consultation behind the
big tent.

As the evening wore on the air became close and
sultry, and a feeling of lethargy bore down on the
people. Someone had advised the singing of several
hymns as the best mode of getting the congregation
into working order, and hymn after hymn was sung
while a tall, long-haired leader stood beating time
with his outstretched arm, waving to and fro with
an eccentric lilt of the body, up and down. The plat-
form was now filled with the preachers and exhorters,
and in some manner the whole front and all the sur-
rounding camp seemed metamorphosed. Something
extraordinary had happened. Yet it was not possible
to say what.

A storm was approaching ; but those who were
engaged in singing paid little heed to the rumbling of
thunder. A few minutes more and a squall descended
over the camp and a vivid flash sent a thrill through

THE CAMP-MEETING 149

the assembly. The crash was followed by a hurricane
of shifting light that swept down closer and closer
over the camp. The lightning seemed to spring from
the ground, the air, the woods, the camp itself, and
it seemed as if objects moved in keeping with the
quick sheets of fire that came as bolts from the
heavens. Only a few lights were left in the lanterns,
and there was something spectral about the vast con-
course swaying like grizzled phantoms on the brink of
a yawning abyss.

Just before the hurricane passed away a dazzling
bolt struck the big elm beside the platform. It fell
in a blue- white zigzag, and to many of the more
superstitious it resembled nothing so much as a fiery
serpent poured from a vial of wrath overhead, for it
split the elm in two, the peal of thunder and the
cleaving timber mingling in one terrific report.

A great shout arose from the people near the tree,
and the commotion in that part of the meeting had
hardly subsided when a voice was heard as one calling
from the shores of Tartarus.

Elihu Grest stood on the platform facing the assembly,
and a new meaning was added to the confusion and
the ghostly candle-light. A picture of peculiar fasci-
nation was now presented to the wondering and half-
dazed people. Arrayed behind the Load-Bearer, in
a jagged semi -circle that stretched from one end of
the platform to the other, sat all the preachers and
exhorters. Witnesses who had once mourned as
penitents before the altar now marshalled to make others
mourn, as fixed and motionless as statues hewn from
syenite ; for there was about them something of the
mien of Egyptian bas-reliefs seated at the door

150 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

separating life and death. Some were bearded and
grimly entrenched behind a hairy mask ; others, in
their long, pointed goatees, sharpened the picture ;
while others again, clean-shaven, and peering straight
before them, presented a death-like pallor, at once
frail and frightful, suggesting the keynote of the
incommensurable symphony of human emotions now
about to begin.

A deep, apprehensive solemnity pervaded every
portion of the congregation when the Load-Bearer
shouted, in tones that penetrated to the far end of the
camp : " You are being weighed in the balance !
Tophet is yawning for the unregenerate ! "

A sensation as if the ground had begun to move
and float spread through the multitude ; and when a
little later, he cried : " You're hangin' to the hinges
of Time by a hair ! " all doubts vanished. Heads
began to droop, bodies swayed from side to side,
and then, one by one, in couples, in groups, every-
where in the meeting, people fell to the ground, while
stifled groans and loud lamentations issued from
hundreds of throats at once.

The mourners at the altar were now several rows
deep, but still the crowd staggered forward. The
camp resembled a coast strewn with the dead and
dying after a great wreck, and a murmuring tumult
alternately rose and fell like that from a moaning
wind and a surging sea.

The night of nights had come ! It seemed as if
hundreds were in the throes of death and would never
rise, so that a mingling of pity and dread filled those
who had long since professed religion ; for the strange
union of material and spiritual forces, the upturned

THE CAMP-MEETING 151

faces, the gaping mouths, the gasping sighs, the
clenched hands, the sudden falling away of all worldly
props, the swift descent from the mountain of vanity
to the vale of sorrows rendered, for a moment, even
the helpers and exhorters speechless ; but, as Elihu
Gest finished, the exhorters on the platform rose and
scattered, each to a particular work, some descending
amongst the people, some addressing them from the
stand.

All the camp lights were now burning. In the
midst of the greatest confusion Squire Higgins stood
up where he could be seen, and called out : " Is Sister
Kezia Jordan present ? "

The people at that corner of the meeting rose from
their seats. The Load-Bearer and Azariah James
were lifting someone on to the corner of the platform.
Again Squire Higgins stood up and called out Mrs.
Jordan's name, and the word was passed from one
end of the camp to the other. " Sister Jordan ! where
is Sister Jordan ? " All preaching and exhorting
ceased. An awful silence settled over the meeting,
for there, on the platform, lay all that was left of Ike
Jordan, who had been killed under the big elm when
a portion of the tree had fallen.

At last Mrs. Jordan appeared at the bottom of the
steps, at the left. She looked as if she might be
walking in her sleep, and Martha Higgins was leading
her by the arm. They mounted the steps slowly.
At the top Elihu Gest and Azariah James stood
waiting. On the platform a transformation had
occurred. Seated again in a long semi-circle were
the stern, statuesque figures, the faces more solemn
and anxious, more strained and yearning than ever;

152 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

and as Kezia Jordan passed along the platform and
approached the remains the Load-Bearer turned as if
suddenly inspired, and addressed her with the words :
" The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away," and
all the preachers finished the sentence with him:
" Blessed be the name of the Lord."

Mrs. Jordan now stood full in the lantern light, and
her pallor was plainly visible. She bent over the
body, then rose and whispered some words to Elihu
Gest. He turned, and facing the multitude announced
as loud as he could speak that Sister Jordan accept od
this great affliction in a spirit of faith and resignation,
and with her hand across her forehead, her eyes half-
closed, like one who had been dazed by a sudden and
bewildering vision, Kezia Jordan was led away by
Martha Higgins and the Load-Bearer down the steps.

Prayers and exhortations followed, and the shouting,
the hurrying to and fro, gave place to a feeling it
would be impossible to describe.

And now, far down on the outskirts of the congre-
gation, a voice was heard, high, shrill and broken,
which caused the people to turn in their seats and
riveted every eye to a spot where a tall figure
advanced, dimly visible, up the middle aisle. Out of
the woods and the night the apparition seemed to have
come, and with tottering steps, hair dishevelled, face
trembling and distorted, the once unbending form of
Minerva Wagner staggered towards the mourners'
bench, the colour gone from her rugged face, the
indomitable will from her proud, grey eyes, all her
strength departed.

She had just left the body of her son.

" Take me, take me, in all my misery ! " she cried

THE CAMP-MEETING 153

out. " I'm an old woman in despair ! I'm a stricken
woman ! Pray for me ! "

She turned twice in a sort of whirl, and cast a look
of unutterable woe on the people on either side, who,
seized with feelings of awe and dismay at the sight
before them, could scarcely realise what was happening.
She staggered on, now assisted by friendly hands, and,
when she arrived at the altar, fell in a swoon among
the long rows of mourners.

All night the revival went on, and the next day,
and the next ; but on that same Sunday night, as the
Load-Bearer left the camp-grounds, and heard the
multitude singing :

" The year of jubilee has come,
Return ye ransomed sinners home."

he waved his hand and cried : " Let 'em mourn, let
'em mourn; jedgment ain't far off ! "

CHAPTER XIII

THE PIONEER OF THE 8ANGAMON COUNTRY

ONE evening a well-dressed stranger called at the
Log- House and asked my father for hospitality for the
night. He proved to be a lawyer from the southern
part of the State, who was on his way north on
horseback.

Socrates was already there with one of his friends,
a rather distant neighbour.

Coffee was made twice in a large pot, and the cups
used were of the largest kind, even for those days.
Yet, somehow, there was a feeling that so much
stimulant was just the thing for that particular even-
ing, for Socrates and his friend had already told us
several stories of the earlier days in the South-west,
and the stranger was evidently being wound up for a
recital of something extraordinary in his life.

I had not yet seen such a character. Eather tall,
inclined to thinness, but with a large, bony frame,
with broad, angular shoulders, his long, dark face and
piercing black eyes were set off by a rough, pointed
goatee which seemed to sprout from his chin spon-
taneously like a weapon and a warning. And yet,
with all the seeming hardness, this stranger must
have been a lover of Nature and a sort of undeveloped
poet.

When at last we rose from the supper-table a half-
circle was formed around the hearth, and the stranger

PIONEEK OF THE SANGAMON COUNTEY 155

settled himself, and, little by little, began to move
into the mysterious past, yet not so mysterious for
him as for us, the listeners.

" You see," he said, in answer to some questions
put by my father, " most of the settlers hereabouts
in those days came from Virginia, Kentucky, and
Tennessee. I came in from west of the Blue Eidge ;
and Western Virginia thirty or forty years ago was
about like Illinois is now."

" Consid'ably mixed,'' remarked Socrates.

" Yes, sir, and for that reason we had all sorts of
people willing to stay, and all sorts willing to make
tracks for parts unknown. You've heard of the old-
time Eegulators, I reckon ? Wai, I was at the first
meeting of the kind that ever took place in this
country, and to tell ye how it happened I must go
back to the war of 1812, when old Captain Roberts
was living in West Virginia with his beautiful and
wayward daughter, who was the cause of more trouble
in that and other families than was ever heard of in
any history outside these domains. She was most
beautiful, she was so, and I can tell ye all here now
that I never saw her equal in cool, fascinating ways,
and in looks that 'ud make some o' the young men
hereabouts follow to where the " willows are weepin'
night and day," as Pete Cartwright has it. She had
what a man down in my section calls the ' wildcat
eye,' that is, they were glassy and fiery one minute,
and dove-like an' winnin' the next. She had that
pride and independence that was natural to the women-
folk of her section. I saw her at times when she was
most too haughty and overbearin' for her folks to
abide with, an' then again I've seen her as skittish and

156 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

troublin' as a kitten with a mouse, and just as sassy
as a chipmunk in April. It was my belief then, an'
it is now, that Vicky Roberts was plumb turned in her
head by bein' flattered an' spoiled, she bein' the only
child ; and it looked like a foreordination of events as
far as she was concerned.

" Now, Vicky Roberts was courted by two young
men, cousins, Hank Cutler and Jack Stone. And
that, geotlemen, meant trouble from the word Go ; an*
what made things worse was the singular disposition
of Stone, who was a young man of few words, an'
somewhat quiet, an' given to serious thinking, with a
clear head, an' with more brains than some folks would
be willing to allow. Against Stone come in Hank
Cutler, with a cunnin' disposition an' considerably
given to underhand dealings, with a head as muddled
an' wayward as could be.

"The rivalry of these two was like the meetin' of
the clear waters of the Ohio with the muddy Missis-
sippi. Cutler was as reckless as any young man could
be in those days, with no conscience to speak of, and
to get the gal he was willing to sell his soul an' take
the consequences. He was tall and right smart in his
dress, an' calculated to win over any gal by his looks
an' manners, bein' of that particular stamp that catches
some women, as spiders catch flies, before they know
it. Anyhow, Cutler and Stone were in for it from
the start, an' no time was lost either way.

" When Vicky Roberts saw how things were opening
up she kind o' hesitated, not knowing which to choose,
an' bein' more an' more flattered in her feelings she
kept both on 'em jumpin' on the string, not stopping
to think of the steel trap she was settin' for herself,

PIONEEK OF THE SANGAMON COUNTEY 157

an' perhaps noways caring, either. Some said she
preferred Hank Cutler, others again were dead sure
she was in love with Jack Stone. But when old man
Cutler up an' died Hank was obliged to cross the Blue
Eidge on important business in the Old Dominion, and
during his absence the real trouble began. Before he
left Vicky Eoberts made him believe, or he made
himself believe, that she was all right on his side, but
as soon as he was out of sight Stone took advantage
of the occasion by paying more and more attention to
Yicky Eoberts. Her parents made no objection ; in
fact, they favoured Stone, he being the most gentle-
manly of the two and the most steady, an' it didn't
take more'n a few weeks after Hank Cutler's depar-
ture to make Vicky Eoberts forget him and consent to
marry Jack Stone.

"But there was no minister to perform the ceremony.
What was to be done ? Time was most precious,
seeing that Cutler might arrive home before the
Methodist minister, then on his circuit, would come
that way. They decided to send for a justice of the
peace, named Williams, to unite them in marriage.
Now, Williams had been out of office for a good while,
but everyone declared him fully qualified to perform
the ceremony an7 make it valid in the eyes of the law.
An' so Jack Stone an' Vicky Eoberts were married in
all haste to repent in all leisure; and scarcely had
they become man and wife than here comes home
Hank Cutler !

" Cutler didn't let on he was anyways afflicted by
what had happened. He attended the reception an'
congratulated the bride an' appeared cool an' took
things easy like ; but his head was filled with sinister

158 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

plans. He waited his chance to see Vicky when the
people were leaving. The opportunity came, an' he
says to her : ' Look here, Vicky, do you know your
marriage isn't legal ? You ain't married according to
law.'

" Vicky Stone blushed and at the same time looked
Hank Cutler straight in the eye. Then, after a little,
she said : < Hank, how do you know I ain't ? '

" i I know you ain't,' says he, ' that justice o' the
peace is disqualified by law ; his commission has
run out. You ain't married, Vicky, an' if you
have children they'll be bastards, an' Jack Stone
knows it ! '

" She sat down in a chair right where she was
standin' all flustered and ashamed like, but Cutler
kept on : ' You think it all over, an' when you want
to free yourself I'll be ready.'

" "When Stone returned to the house his wife asked
him plump an' straight : ' Jack Stone, are you dead
sure we're married according to law ? ' But after he
had explained matters an' put the seal of certainty on
the facts she kept silent, appearing sort o' strange an'
gloomy, an' attendin' to her duties without saying
much to anyone. And right here comes one of those
queer dealin's that, as Pete Cartwright says, gives the
devil his chance, and this is how it happened : At the
very time that Cutler come back from the Old Dominion
the Governor of Virginia had issued a proclamation
about the war that had just broke out between Great
Britain and the United States. There was a loud call
for volunteers ; now was the time for the young men
to show their mettle. There was sharp rivalry as to
who would show the most daring, and in the midst of

PIONEEE OF THE SANGAMON COUNTEY 159

the boasting and confusion some folks lost their heads,
and one o' them was Stone.

" Cutler had already become a soldier, and for no
other reason than to lay a trap for Stone. Hank
Cutler never looked so dashing as he did on the day
he joined the army. He walked about bragging of
the things he intended to do in the war and casting
odium on the young men who feared for their skins
and stayed at home ; and meeting Stone on the street
where there was a crowd gathered talking about the
war Cutler said to the people : ' I'll be hanged if I
don't 3ght for my country first and get married after';
and then he declared that a young man who was tied
to a young gal's apron-strings warn't worth his rations
nohow, and more of the same kind. He strutted about
like a peacock and making about as much noise, until
Jack Stone hardly knew whether he was standing
on his head or on his heels, and well nigh dis-
tracted, knowing as he did that Cutler was mighty
favoured in the eyes of Vicky Roberts before her
marriage.

" At last Stone could stand it no longer. He signed
his name as a volunteer for six months. That same
evening there was a dispute between Stone an' his
wife. She demanded to know how he could bring
himself to join the army only a few days after their
marriage. She wanted to know how she would now
lock in the eyes of the world, an' she told him she
might better be a widow. And not only that, but she
took it into her head that Stone had never loved her
an' was now enrolling himself as a volunteer to escape
the responsibility of the marriage relation. During
this particular time Hank Cutler had put in his best

160 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

licks to help on the rupture. He had spoken to
Stone's wife just long enough to put a bumble bee in
her bonnet that would keep on buzzin' day an' night,
without rest. The more Jack Stone tried to explain
his actions the more his wife resented his explana-
tions. When he spoke of fighting for his country
she looked suspicious, an' every time he spoke of
returning from the war in a few months her face
grew more set an' distrustful, nor would she speak
to him any more.

"All this time Cutler and Stone were conferring
together on matters concerning the war, Stone little
suspecting the deep designs of his rival and enemy.
One afternoon, towards the last of the summer, as the
sun was setting behind the old Virginia hills, an' the
birds flying low through the underbrush, an' all Nature
drowsing in the peaceful calm, an' the old trees castin'
their shadows along the descendin' slopes, Vicky Stone
met Hank Cutler a mile from her house, the meeting
lasting about twenty minutes. There was where
Cutler worked the mischief-world-without-end, an'
there was where she made up her mind not to let the
parson perform a legal ceremony of marriage when he
returned, as he was about to do in a few days.

" When she got back to the house there was some
talk of the parson's arrival, but she refused to entertain
the idea of a second marriage now, an', besides, Stone
himself didn't think it necessary, so the matter ended.

" The whole country was up in arms. The Indians
had joined the British. Cutler and Stone belonged to
a company of spies in the army, commanded by
General Harrison, in the West, and in the discharge
of their duty as spies they enjoyed the privilege of

PIONEEK OF THE SANGAMON COUNTKY 161

wandering about pretty freely ; an' more than this,
General Harrison appointed Cutler to seek out the
whereabouts o' General Hopkins, who was on his way
north from Kentucky. Cutler was only too anxious
for an occasion such as this, an' some folks say he
asked for the job. Anyhow, he succeeded in finding
General Hopkins an' transacting the business in hand,
but he never returned to the camp of General Harri-
son ; neither was he seen in any other camp of the
army. At the time they were expecting his return to
Harrison's army in the north-west Cutler was making
tracks for home. By day he was exerting his wits to
avoid meetin' soldiers, by night he was put to it to
steer clear of Indians.

" It was a long an' dangerous journey, an' it meant
hidin' a good part o' the time, sleepin' out in all sorts
o' weather ; and the hardships he endured proved his
frenzy for Vicky Koberts, now Stone's legitimate wife.
In the army he was given up for dead, being killed
by Indians on his way back to camp, as everyone
supposed.

" But Hank Cutler was never so 'live and in fightin'
trim. His war experiences had done nothing else
than whet his appetite for dare-devil scrapes and still
more adventure, and I must allow things were all
on his side so far. The devil always wins the first
stakes.

" But where was Jack Stone all this time ? Yes,
sir, ye may well ask that. He was with the army
hundreds o' miles away, an' when Harrison took it
into his head to discharge Stone an' other volunteers
before the close o' the war he, too, made tracks for
home,
v.s. M

162 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

" It was one o' those beautiful melting days in
Indian summer, when heaven meets earth an' settles
right down over everything, minglin' all things in
Nature an' human nature in one bond of harmony, as
it were, an' makin' folks feel as if it was a mighty good
thing to be livin' an' breathin', to say nothing about
love, which is more in most cases than anything else
a man can think of — it was on such a day at high
noon that Jack Stone come steppin' along as lithe as
could be up the slope leadin' to his house, an' walking
straight to the door opened it an' stepped in. Vicky
Stone was nowhere to be seen. He thought he heard
footsteps overhead, an' called out ; she would be down
directly ; perhaps she was fixin' on some nice ribbons
an' things to receive him in. Growing impatient, he
passed up the narrow stairway. The room was vacant.
He stood musing for a minute, then came downstairs
again. The whole place had a deserted look. He
hurried to consult with Captain Koberts, but the
Captain looked like one in mourning.

" ' I'm looking for my wife,' he says to the
Captain.

" ' An' I've been looking for my daughter for some
time,' was the answer.

" The two men stood an' stared at each other. Then
Stone says : < How long has she been gone an' who
did she leave with ? '

" ' About a month, but I know nothing about her
going. All I can tell ye is that she has left here an'
left for good.'

" Stone's wife had gone away ; no soul in the place
knew where to. The neighbours did their best to
pacify him, but nothing did any good. He walked

PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 168

about like a man that had been dazed, not knowing
what to do. He was seen to go back into his
empty house, where he stayed for some time ; then he
walked out as a man would walk who had taken a
drop too much. He began to load his rifle, an'
after that he lit out down the hill an' across the valley.
He hadn't been gone many minutes when his house
began to blaze and before he had got across the
creek it fell in a heap o' ruins. He had set it afire
himself.

" Years passed. The war with Great Britain was
over ; the wars with the Indians were over, but where
was Hank Cutler ? "Wai, I'm comin' to it as fast as
ever I can ; but I reckon it took some time for him to
play his cards after the deal was made, an' without
discountin' nothing it'll take some time to unravel the
yarn plumb to the last skein.

" Cutler had made arrangements to meet Vicky
Stone after sundown not far from her house. You
see he got there safe an' sound, and you see how Jack
Stone come back an' found his wife gone ; aftd now in
your mind's eye, if you'll just think steady enough
about it, you can see Hank Cutler an' Vicky Stone
floatin' down the Ohio on a raft they found tied to the
bank at the point where they struck the river. The
current bein' rapid they got to Cincinnati without too
much trouble, and there they stayed till their first
child was born, when their wander in' s began in good
earnest.

" There's where I saw them about six months after
their arrival. It seemed like I never set eyes on a
young woman with so much colour in her cheeks an'
such a sparkle in her eye, an' there was a look of

M 2

164 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

pride an' defiance in her face that would make a man
halt and think twice before takin' liberties with such
a proud character. But Cutler, though mighty hand-
some, and bent on leadin' a life of independence far
removed from his old home in Virginia, began to show
traces of care an' dissipation. She looked as if she
feared nothin' on earth ; he looked worried at times,
and eyed every stranger that came his way, fearin' to
enter into conversation.

" Then one day they left for parts unknown. Her
beauty had caused a regular sensation in that section,
an' it set tongues a-waggin' 'bout who she could be.
An' it must be said that there was somethin' in the
looks, dress, an' bearin' o' Cutler that interested
more'n one woman thereabouts, so that both attracted
attention wherever they were seen.

" But Cutler was conscious of danger. He wanted
to get where the settlers were few an' far between.
On his second move he made for Indiana, but didn't
stop long on that halt. He soon started on the third
journey, farther west, an' only stopped when he got
to the Wabash, thinkin' the place lonely enough to
escape ; but after stayin' here several years he got
scared, an' suddenly pullin' up stakes, he hurried on
with all speed to the rich an' wonderful Sangamon
country, which, at that time, was a real paradise of
meadow-prairie, woods an' wild flowers, where whole
armies might hide in the tall grass in certain sections,
an' all the robbers on the face of the earth could find
both food an' shelter with the least trouble an'
expense ; for the land was full o' wild game, an' the
groves an' thickets were like so many ready-made
habitations. You see, in those days, each settler that

PIONEEE OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 165

pulled up stakes over in Indiana to come out here in
Illinois had to follow his nose."

" An1 the whisky in them days did put a red light
on some noses," remarked Socrates.

" It did so," continued the lawyer, " but Hank
Cutler was too young to be affected that way. The
settlers that came to these regions 'long about 1819
or '20 wandered on pretty much by instinct, an' I've
known cases where they gave the lead to the horses
an' let the reins dangle/'

" A blind hoss or a yaller dog — anythin' thet'll
walk before a two-legged creetur'," interrupted Socrates
again.

(i Wai, they just took a westerly direction an' let
things slide, an' some of 'em struck it rich while
others struck it poor by halting before they come to
the right place. Now Cutler never halted till he
struck it right. He had got clean away from civilisa-
tion. He was the very first pioneer in this section of
the Sangamon country. In the covered wagon that
moved slowly into the peaceful an' lonely haven of
rest, much as a sailing boat would drift with a sluggish
current, there came, besides Cutler an' his erring
victim, two little children — one, a baby born in the
wagon after they had set out from the valley o' the
Wabash, the other born the year before. The child
born in Cincinnati had died some time ago. It was
now plainly visible that Yicky Stone's beauty was
doomed. Her eyes were growing heavy, her com-
plexion was fading, her whole face was taking on an
expression of worry an' care. For her the beautiful
rolling prairies an' the rich bottoms of the Illinois
Kiver was not a paradise but a valley o' shadows, an'

166 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

as for Cutler, he was sufferin' from hard drinking an
a scared remorseful conscience, — an' yet it ain't hardly
likely that Cutler had feelin's enough for remorse.
What he did feel was the presence near by of a batch
o' squatters that came into the country a little after
he got there, an' they had drove stakes not more'n
two miles off.

" It was Cutler's habit to keep a good look-out after
sunset, an' as he scarcely slept at night this come easy
enough, but the life of excitement an' suspense, with
every shadow turned into a phantom, was wearin' him
out. He looked almost middle-aged now, an' his face
showed lines of fatigue ; his eyes had lost that look of
darin' an' confidence that made him a favourite with
the gals back East. He had got about as far as his
tether would allow, an' he began to feel the pull in
dead earnest. An' now, worse than all, no sooner had
he got settled in the most secluded an' lovely spot he
could find, in a place now called Cutler's Grove, an'
not very far from this house neither, than a reg'lar
wave of immigration set in from Kentucky an' Indiana.
The newspapers of the cities on the Upper Ohio, an' of
Saint Louis, began to give accounts of the rich lands
of the Sangamon country, an' Cutler found himself
once more surrounded by settlers, scattered here an'
there, an' among them others, like himself, ready for
any villainy.

" Cutler was on the point of moving once more,
but this time his victim objected, saying she was worn
out with anxiety an' the rough life he had led her.

" Down towards the river, about three miles away,
some new arrivals from Missouri had opened a small
store, where whisky was sold an' freely imbibed. It

PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 167

was kept by outlaws an' frequented by men like
Hank Cutler ; and Cutler himself made this place
the headquarters for adventures an' expeditions of a
daring an' desperate nature. He now left home for
days together, an' Vicky Stone had little if any means o'
findin' out where he was or what he was doing. Cutler
was by nature more of a leader than the desperadoes
who kept this store, an' that is why he naturally took
the lead in most of the robberies committed thereabouts.

" Vicky Stone, left by herself for days an' nights,
with only dogs an' two little children for companions,
had plenty of time for sorrow an' weepin' ; but it
looked to me then, an' it looks to me now, as if Provi-
dence was kind of settin' of him up right in this new
garden of Eden to tempt him in the right way, for
there was no forbidden apples here in those days "

" Speakin' o' apples," interrupted Socrates, with his
round face all aglow, "speakin' o' apples, allers make me
think of ole Ezry Sparr, thet use ter live down thar
near Crow's Nest, jest afore ye come te the bend in the
river. He hed a real cute way o' treatin' the parsons
en circuit-riders thet come along thar. He had a
small apple orchard; 'bout the fust orchard ever
planted in these parts, I reckon, en his cider war
sweet when the crop war good, but hard en stunnin'
when apples war skase ; en one season when thar
warn't much of a crop te speak of along come Azariah
James and preacher Dew a-hossback.

"They war a-makin' fer the Conference over te
Mount Carmel, en bein' ez thirsty ez fishes out o'
water they called fer all the cider they could drink,
which war consid'able, the day bein' hot en the roads
dusty. Old Ezry Sparr stepped round ez perlite ez

168 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

could be, but 'peared like he war extry long in f etchin'
the cider, en when it war sot on the table it war gone
afore anyone hed time te tell whether it war hard, er
whether it war saft, er whether it war calc'lated te
put 'em in the weavin' way ez the say in' is.

" Arter a while, preacher Dew sez : ' Wai, Brother
James, what d'ye think o' thet thar cider ? '

" ' Thet's jes' what I war a-goin' to ask you,' he
sez, ' it beats all I ever see/

" < 'Tain't the seem' of it,' sez t'other, < we didn't
take no time ; en besides, 'tain't allers wisdom te
fumble 'bout the mouth of a gift hoss, seein' ez Ezry
Sparr don't never charge preachers fer what they drink.'

" ' I 'low ye're right/ sez preacher James, ' but I
reckon it's time te ride on ; it takes a heap of ridin'
to settle real hard cider.'

"Preacher Dew asked ole Sparr te p'int out the
way te Crow's Nest, ez they war aimin' te reach the
Conference afore nightfall.'

" * Straight on,' sez Sparr ; * but on yer way yell
hev te pass through what the circuit-riders call the
land o' Nod, en ye'll strike it over yander whar ye
see thet p'int o' timber/

" < The land o' Nod ? ' sez Brother Dew. < I ain't
never heerd o' no sech a place in this section.'

"'Very likely ye never did,' rej'ined ole Sparr;
' but I'll be bound ye' 11 know it when ye git thar/

" ' Be thar a sign-post ? '

" ' Thar ain't no need o' one. Jes' keep yer eye
on this man,' he sez, puttin' his hand on preacher
James's shoulder, en sorter smilin', 'he looks like
he'll do fer a sign-post, at least ez fur ez ye'll go
this time/

PIONEEK OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 169

" They rode off at a good canter, but they hedn't
been out long afore preacher James sez : ' Looky
here, Brother Dew, don't ye think we'd better walk
our hosses ? 'Pears like thet cider's workin' up, en
it looks like it'll pop the cork if we keep on joggin'
like this.'

" i Wai/ sez t'other, ' I'm mighty anxious te reach
that p'int o' timber en find out jes' what ole man Sparr
did mean by the land o' Nod.'

" They rode on, en ez they come te the woods
preacher Dew reined up, en lookin' at Azariah James
he see him nod his head, then straighten up, en nod
ag'in ; then brother Dew hollered out : * I'll be
hanged ef I ain't jes' seen the sign-post ! Brother
James, we'll git down right here en sleep off thet
stunnin' liquor ole Sparr filled us up on.'

" They hitched up en slept in the woods all night,
en when they got te the Conference preacher Dew
took f er his tex' : < Tetch not, taste not, handle not,
'ceptin' when ye're dead sure o' yer apples.' '

A hearty laugh followed, after which the lawyer
continued his story.

CHAPTER XIV

THE REGULATORS

" WAL, as I was saying, Cutler was hard at work
playing out his last deal. One fall he an' the three
brothers who kept the whisky-store made it up
between them to rob a store down where Springfield
stands to-day. It had been opened by a man from
Kentucky who had come up the river by way of Saint
Louis, an' for that day an' time his goods were as
tempting as anything could be, an' what he had
appeared to most o' the settlers like a banquet o' good
things, although it was only sugar, coffee, tobacco
an' such like he kept.

" Cutler and his companions made a survey of the
the land, decided on a route, waited for a night when
there was no moon, and then set out on the expedition
of plunder. Two of the brothers rode horseback,
while the third drove a fast team with Hank Cutler.
After riskin' their lives they managed to slip away,
having robbed the store of everything they could
carry ; but coming back home they lost their way in
the dark an' had to pass by the house of a man who
recognised them.

"Now, when the three brothers were arrested
Cutler was not suspected. This gave him a chance
to bluff the justice o' the peace and the whole com-
munity by passing himself off as a lawyer, which was
easy, seeing that the justice o' the peace knew as much

THE KEGULATOKS 171

of the law as a sheep knows o' the ways o' panthers
an' wolves. The stolen things were hid away in
Cutler's Grove, but when the trial come on more'n one
of us had cause to scratch our head an' wonder what
would become of us. Ye see, Cutler had been to
college in Virginia an' could spout enough Latin to
make the justice o7 the peace ashamed of his ignorance,
an' so he sat there not knowin' what he was about or
what proceedings to take in the matter ; and I don't
reckon there ever was a game played like it in this
country before nor since. It was just like little
children playin' at law. But Cutler had directed the
three brothers just what to say an' how to act ; an'
when the examination took place everyone came who
could get there. It was live or die for all of us in
those days. If the robbers got clear the danger for
all good citizens would be greater than ever. Excite-
ment ran high, an' every man brought his rifle an7 a
dirk. The place was so crowded that I had to edge
myself in as best I could till I got to where I
could see the prisoners fair an' square. There must
have been as many dogs in the crowd as there was
people, an' the snapping an' snarling more than once
drowned the mealy voice of the justice, who looked
scared and fearsome. But the settlers kept their
mouths shut, an' looked an' listened as they would
had it been the Day of Judgment itself.

" The three brothers were brought in under guard,
an' the examination commenced.

" ' Jim Ferris,' says the justice, ( I want to know if
you can tell us where you were on the night that store
was robbed.'

" He was addressing the oldest of the brothers, who

172 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

stood with his hands in his pockets looking for all the
world like a cross between a weasel an' a human
devil.

" < Where was I?' he answered, in a loud piercing
voice that made the poor justice flinch in his seat ;
' where was I ? Where folks that's worked hard
all day feel like they want to be — in bed, asleep/

" i In your own house ? '

" i Where else d'ye reckon I'd be ? '

" ' Joe Ferris,' he says, addressing the next brother,
4 can ye tell this Court were ye were on the night o'
the robbery ? '

" i With my brothers, at home in my own house.'

" The justice o' the peace looked like he was trem-
bling in his boots, an' his voice was descendin' more
an' more to a scared whisper. An' Cutler, seeing
how the land lay, sprang forward about the time the
third brother's turn came, an' lookin' the justice in the
eye with one o' them mesmerising glances of his, he
just toppled him over for good an' all by declaring off-
hand, an' with a mighty flourish of spunk, that he
was with the brothers on that night till late, an' it
would be more than human power for any man to leave
home at midnight, go so far, an' get home again by
morning.

" I was standing right where I could see most of
the settlers' faces, an' I was watching to see just
how they were taking the queer an' unheard-of
proceedin's. There was ole man Sawyer and his
two big six-footer sons that had just moved up from
Tennessee ; his big square face was like a bear trap
that had closed up by havin' a chipmunk run over
it, an' his mouth fixed so tight that it looked like

THE KEGULATOES 173

a crowbar couldn't get between it. As for his
eyes, they were for all the world just like the eyes
of a chiny cat, fixed an' starin' ; an' seein' him
an' the others like Andy Scott and Jim Biswell just
as set an' wonder-struck, I couldn't take my eyes
off 'em.

" The justice, all flustered an' broke up by Cutler's
bold looks and confident speech, up and says : 4 The
prisoners are now discharged ! '

" Ye could have heard a butterfly come in the room !
Old Sawyer's jaw dropped clean open, showin' his
long teeth, an' his tongue was halfway out as if he
was catchin' his breath like.

"At last the crowd began to move. One o' the
Sawyer boys let his rifle fall plumb across the paws of
a big dog layin' on the floor beside him. An awful
howl went up, in which all the other dogs joined, an'
'twixt the dogs, the robbers, an' the honest settlers, it
was confusion worse confounded.

" In the midst of the din Cutler an' the three Ferris
brothers slipped off home.

" When the crowd was disappearing three or four,
like ole man Sawyer an' Jim Biswell, set to work to
confer about the best means for mutual protection.
Sawyer proposed to form a society to rid the country
of desperadoes, for there was a deep suspicion that
Cutler was the ringleader, and the law, as it stood,
was powerless.

"There was a small meetin' held, but nothing
important was decided on. As time wore on Cutler
seemed to be getting the advantage of the Ferris
brothers in business matters, for he opened out a store
that took the shine off all the others in that section, at

174 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

the same time keepin' in with his ole friends, the
Ferrises. Business was so good that Hank Cutler did
nothing but store-trading an' selling, gettin' most all
his goods direct from Saint Louis by boat, an' his
store soon got to be the leading meetin'-place for idle
an' suspicious characters.

" Now, it was noticed that Cutler spent considerable
of his time visiting down by the river bottom, where
it was rumoured that a man from the South had settled
on bottom land. This man was possessed of more
money in cash than any of the other settlers, for it
seemed he had a large sum locked up an' stored away ;
an' as there were no banks to put money in he was
obliged to hide it as best he could right on his
diggin's.

"It wasn't long before Cutler was joined in his
visits to this man by two of the Ferris brothers. The
aim was for Cutler to have all the help he could get
to carry out his plans for the biggest robbery yet
undertaken in the Sangamon country.

" During their visits to the bottom Cutler an' his
companions informed themselves of the new settler's
intentions. They found out that he would soon be
making a journey to Saint Louis by boat, an' that in
his absence he would leave in his cabin valuables to a
considerable extent.

" When Cutler found out all he wanted to know,
and more, he came home one day in hot haste an'
prepared to sell out all he possessed except his horses
an' a few things he had to keep for future use. The
next day he made known the announcement of the
sale — his cabin, an' all the contents of his store was
for sale, except a stock of whisky which he could not

THE KEGULATOES 175

part with. Things were going for a mere song, as
they say, an' you can believe me, his sudden selling
out an' departure created a commotion among the
settlers, an' all sorts o' rumours. While the sale was
proceeding Cutler was actin' mighty strange. He
stayed at home nights, he kept silent, an' grew more
an' more gloomy an' sullen. Towards the last he was
in such a hurry to sell out that he almost gave things
away, and for miles people hurried in to get the
unheard-of bargains that were going.

" The honest folks heaved a sigh of relief when
they saw these things, and looked forward to a time of
peace after Cutler's departure. When the day of
departure arrived it was noticed that two of the Ferris
brothers went with him, an' this looked kind o' queer,
but Cutler laughed away suspicion as he so often did
before, and made like he was only going off on a
pleasure excursion.

" He set out about noon on a beautiful day in the
early spring, and moving as fast as the horses would
go he crossed the Illinois river, an' coming to an
abandoned cabin on MacKee's creek towards the dusk
of the evening, stopped there and fixed to take
up his residence as long as it suited his intentions
an' plans.

" Yes, sir, you better believe the long-sufferin'
settlers back on the other side o' the river received this
news with feelin's anything but gay an' festive. Cutler
hadn't moved more'n ten miles further west. It was
noticed that the two Ferris boys didn't return, but
stayed away, an' it was hoped they had lit out for
good ; but they were busy rehearsing their parts an'
getting ready for a big haul.

176 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

" One night Cutler an' his two accomplices dressed
themselves up as Indians, with faces painted red an'
white, an' made for the bottom where the rich settler
lived. The owner was away at Saint Louis, leaving
his home in charge of his wife, his son, aged about
eighteen, an' a young daughter. All of a sudden they
were terrified by the visit of the robbers, who knew
exactly where to look for the hidden valuables. There
was no resistance offered. Cutler an' his companions
took what they wanted, an' in five minutes decamped
with the booty — a large sum of money, in fact all the
rich settler possessed in cash.

" The very next day the news was brought to the
settlement by a messenger on horseback. There was a
hurried secret meeting. The greatest precaution was
necessary in order to insure success, for the oldest
Ferris was still at his store, and every movement of
honest folks was watched, an' everything would be
reported to Cutler an' the others.

" It took two or three days to get the notice of the
meetin' circulated among those most interested. The
messages had to be sent to an' fro by stealth in round-
about ways, and finally the meetin' -place was fixed at
Jim BiswelFs cabin, it being surrounded mostly by
hazel bushes, with two roads leading to the back hid
by a thick growth o' tall saplings.

"The appointment was for the early morning, as it
was thought that Jim Ferris an' his spies would not
be likely to be on the look-out at that time, an' when
all had arrived the meetin' was called to order by ole
man Sawyer, who up an' says : ' Friends, I reckon ye
all know what we are here for. Ye've heard the
news of the last robbery.'

THE EEGULATOES 177

" l Yes, yes, we all know, an' we want to act,' cried
several voices.

" Then let's proceed to business,' said the first
speaker. 4 1 propose friend Biswell here to occupy
the chair durin' the proceedin's.'

" Jim Biswell, being chosen, made them a speech.

"' Ye all know,' he said, ' what the Eangers were
during the time of the Indian wars an' depredations,
an' that they were formed for the purpose o' clearin'
the western countries of wandering bands of evil-
doers. But the days o' the Eangers is past, an' now
the time is ripe for something to take the place o'
those organised fighters on horseback. The time has
come for each settlement to stand on its own legs.
Friends, ye've seen how the justice let off the Ferris
gang, an' how the law, as such, works out to favour
the men with the greatest cunning an' the most
reckless daring. Now, we ain't got no mounted
Eangers to give us good law an' good deeds, an' I
propose right here to fit out a company of Eegulators
to do our work an' rid this settlement an' the neigh-
bourhood of all robbers an' desperadoes, an' that in
the quickest time possible.'

" t Ye' re right,' said ole man Sawyer, 'for the next
thing we'll know murder will take the place o'
robbery.'

" ' An' we might far better be murdered,' said Jim
Biswell, c than to have all the money we possess taken
from us, an' nothin' left to start work on/

" ' Ye're right,' spoke up several voices.

" Up to this time Andy Scott had been sitting there
as still an' unpretending as you please, an' there was
nothing about his looks to attract much notice, except

V.S. N

178 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

he had but one eye, an' the other was kind o' droopin'
an' heavy, which gave him the appearance of a man
who had seen considerable service an' was now set in
his mind on taking things just as easy as the law
would allow, an' a little easier than the Cutler gang
were disposed to permit at that particular time.
Wai, Andy Scott took the corn-cob pipe out of his
mouth, spat on the floor, squared up, an* says :
'I've been a Ranger myself, an' fit Indians an'
chased robbers all over Indianny an' Kentucky, an' I
b'lieve I'm good for any fightin' these here diggings
can scare up, without wantin' to brag. I'm willin' to
follow, or I'm willin1 to lead; I don't care a shuck
which it is — I'm ready. All I want to see is this here
settlement cleared o' varmints like Cutler an' Ferris,
an' the quicker the better.'

" You better believe one-eyed Scott began to look
like a leader, an* Jim Biswell put the question :
* What do you reckon is the best way to go about
dealin' with this band ? '

" * Give 'em all the rope they're after,' he says. 4 1
propose to form a company o' volunteers right here an'
now, to regulate matters an' carry out the law
accordin' to the wishes of all honest folks in this
section.'

" The majority of voices were in favour of Andy
Scott's proposition, and the chairman proceeded to ask
for volunteers. The two Sawyer boys, Jim Biswell,
Andy Scott, his sixteen-year-old son, myself, an' six
others put down their names as willing to take imme-
diate action, and the meetin' next set to work to
elect a leader. And this was not so easy.

'There was at the meetin' a man they called

THE EEGULATORS 179

Major, who had been one of the most outspoken
against the Cutler band. Someone proposed Andy
Scott as captain ; but Scott, fearing to take precedence
of a man who had been an officer in the war, named
the Major, an' this proposition was carried; a com-
mittee was formed to arrange an' organise. The
volunteers bound themselves by oath to carry out a
stated an' determined line of action to rid the country
of all evil-doers. A paper was signed by the chair-
man, the committee, and all the volunteers.

" There was another secret meeting ; some doubted
the Major's capacity to lead in such an undertaking
because he was known to be a man considerably given
to talk. Finally things come to a head by an arrange-
ment for all to meet at sundown the next day in a
dense thicket near the cross-roads, and from there
make straight for the other side o' the river to Cutler's
house on the creek. "We arrived at the meetin' -place
in good time, but found no Major. We waited, an'
still our appointed captain failed to appear. We
waited for more'n an hour, but the fact was the brave
Major was at home having supper with his wife, but
pretending to be too sick to come to the meetin' -place.
The Major was scared, an' soon after he pulled up stakes
an' left for parts unknown, bein' ashamed to face the
people. Wai, no one could tell just what to do next.
All the volunteers were willing an' ready to move on
an' face the desperadoes, come what may, but there
was no captain. While we were talking matters over
one o' the Sawyer boys said he saw something movin'
in the woods to the left ; we raised our rifles and stood
waiting, but nothing more was seen or heard of a
suspicious nature, an' we all laid it to young Sawyer's

N 2

180 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

imagination an' proceeded to settle who should be our
leader. Andy Scott was chosen. But Scott was not
a boaster, nor a man who wanted to lead in anything.
He was an up-an'-down fighter, an' as brave as a lion,
but only wanted to follow a good captain, an' most o'
the volunteers were young an' inexperienced men. It
begin to look as if the expedition to the robbers' roost
must be abandoned for want of a leader, when out
jumped a man from the bushes and cried out :
< Hold, friends ! I've heard all you've said. I
understand you want a leader. I too have been
robbed by the villain you're looking for. I want to
be your captain an' assume all responsibility in this
proceeding if you'll let me have that honour an'
satisfaction.'

" Andy Scott then spoke up, an' says : i I believe
you're the man I see down by the Ohio not more'n
six months ago, an' you went by the name of the
Wild Hunter?'

" ' Yes,' chimed in Jim Biswell, ' I've heard o' you
more'n once, an' it 'pears like I recognise you from
the description they give o' your dress, your cap in
particular, which seems to be made o' panther skin.'

" He had a half -wild expression that made some of
us stand back somewhat, not knowin' into what
scrapes he might take us ; but his body was as nimble
as a deer, an' his whole appearance was calculated to
win over our confidence in the long run. He had on a
buckskin hunting shirt, deerskin leggin's, an' moccas-
sins on his feet. His step was as lithe as a panther's,
an' it was no wonder he come so near us without makin'
his presence actually known. He carried a long knife,
an' his rifle was one of the finest anywhere to be seen.

THE KEGULATOBS 181

He stood eyeing our company as cool as a cucumber,
with his hands folded across the muzzle of his gun.

"c You're right, friends,' he says. ' I've been in
the southern part of this country and I've been called
by some the Wild Hunter, but I don't intend to settle
for long in this section. I want to find where Cutler
is, an' I don't care much who goes with me. If I
knew how to get there I'd start alone. I must an*
will find him. I've been hunting for him long
enough. A rude fate directed me to this spot just at
this eventful time.'

" ' You see,' he continued,' looking at every one of
us as if he could see plumb through us, ' I've been to
Cutler's store, but I was three days too late. He had
sold out an' left, an' I was now lookin' for some signs
whereby I might reach him, as they told me he had
halted about ten miles off.'

" ' Are you intendin' to settle hereabouts ? ' asked
Andy Scott.

" < My business is with Cutler, and not with any-
one in the settlement nor with any interests in this
section o' the country, but if you'll take me for your
captain we'll be off without delay.'

" There was some talk as to the risks of accepting
a stranger, but at last Andy Scott up an' says:
' Looky here, boys, I ain't afeared to follow no
man, an' I reckon this here company's got as much
spunk as I have. This stranger looks to me dead on
the square. There ain't nothin' in names, but I'd
like to ask the stranger his name just to have
something to call him by.5

" < Wai,' says the hunter, with a desperate look,
' since ye seem willing to call me your leader, you can

182 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

allude to me as Captain Stone. I've been nine years
in search of Hank Cutler ! '

"It was now dark, an' we had miles of trackless
wilderness to wander through. When we came to
a clearing we made rapid progress, but when we
came to water an' thick woods we got lost more'n
once.

" Stone stepped along as light as a young buck.
We talked in whispers. There seemed to be some
guidin' power assisting Stone to sense out the way
straight an' clear in spite of almost insurmountable
obstacles. He took us knee-deep through water, he
tore through underbrush an' thicket, he almost ran in
places where it was level an' the ground clear. But
when it came to the river we halted. It began to
look as if we could never get across, and we lost
precious time in making several unsuccessful attempts
at crossing. It seemed just like a dream when we
found ourselves on the other side making dead-sure
tracks for MacKee's creek, which we struck about
half -past eleven. Here we took a turn, an' going
straight north for about half-an-hour all at once we
come dead in sight o' Cutler's cabin. There it stood,
in the clearing, as lonely an' as solemn as a horned
owl on a forsaken barn-door. An' it was midnight at
that 1 I can tell ye it gave me shivers down my back
when I saw it. I've been all over this country as far
as settlers have got, an' I've seen as much as most,
but I hadn't ever seen or felt anything to equal the
looks o' that cabin standing there in the clearing. It
was unearthly. There was just light enough to see
some things pretty plain, though the moon was
droppin' below the trees behind the cabin, an' after

THE EEGULATOKS 183

moving' a little closer Andy Scott allowed he could
make out there was smoke coming from the chimney.

"'But they're asleep,' says Jim Biswell, i there
ain't no light in the house.1

" c It don't make no difference/ he replied; 'light
or no light we've got to go slow, for I' am dead
certain they ain't more'n had time to go to bed.'

" Scarcely had he uttered the words, when the door
opened and a blazing light streamed out as far as the
wood line. A little more and the light would have
struck us where we stood, but, as luck would have it,
we were standing right where we could see clear
across the room, from the open door plumb to the
chimney-place. In another second we could see
someone moving about. Then we could see two ; and
just as we were begginnin' to wonder how many there
were inside, the whole band became visible walkin'
about.

" i Whoop-ee ! ' whispered Biswell, ' they're all
there.'

" We stood an' counted Jem — Cutler, Jim Ferris,
and his two brothers. They were going an' coming
from the fireplace, burning up papers an' other stuff
that they took from the last house they robbed. They
were destroying the evidence.

"< Let's make for 'em!'

"Andy Scott spoke so loud, it seemed like the
robbers must hear him an' get a start on us.

" Captain Stone waved his hand.

" i Wait an' watch here,' he said, ' till I go forward
a little closer.'

"Another big blaze rose up in the chimney; we
could plainly see the men sorting, counting, an'

184 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

dividing piles of coin. A table stood at one side,
an' on it was a whisky bottle. "When the counting
an' dividing was over, Cutler poured out for all to
drink, an* we could hear the words :

" ' Fill up, boys, we can all afford it after the last
haul ! '

" Captain Stone had now got within a few yards of
the cabin. Yes, sir, we were all mighty excited. We
could scarcely keep from making a dash for that open
door ; and it seemed like Stone was listening a long
time to hear just what was bein' said, but he was only
gone a few minutes. When he returned he gave us
orders to follow close at his heels an* wait for the
word of command, whatever that might be, an' we all
set to wonderin' just what his intentions were as to
the capturin' o' Cutler. It was clear he didn't want
us to run up an' shoot now that we had got to the
place an' had a dead spot on every member o' the
band. Stone had worked out what to do. That man
could see ahead ; he knew exactly how things would
turn up ; an' he was the least excited of us all.

" i Follow me, comrades,' he said in a whisper, and
we crept up till we were close enough to hear every
word spoken in the cabin.

" Cutler an' his gang were finishing off the last of
the whisky. Cutler said : l It's time to get some
sleep ; we've got to be away from here by sunrise,
for we've got the biggest ride before us we ever done.
We've got to get clean away till we get into the
Indian country, north-west o' here.'

" But Jim Ferris opened another bottle o' whisky
an' set it on the table an' began to pour out, an'
with that they all set round the fire with their feet

THE KEGULATORS 185

sprawled before 'em as careless an' shiftless as ye
ever see.

" Stone was now right before the door. He was
waiting for Cutler to stand up. The very minute he
did so the captain, with eyes like a wild cat, made one
bound inside.

" < Stand there till I kill ye ! ' he hollered out, his
voice hoarse with nine years of pent-up fury.

" Cutler stood like he was petrified. He was gapin'
at Stone with a ghastly look when Stone sent a bullet
through his heart. He fell in a dead heap. We made
a rush for the Ferris gang, who were so taken aback
an' filled with liquor that no resistance was made. An
awful scream came from above an' down rushed Vicky
Stone.

" Lord a' mercy ! I can see her now, with her hair
all loose, an' her eyes wild with despair, a-bendin'
over the body an' makin' out to listen for signs o' life,
an' shoutin' : < Is he dead, is he dead ! Have you
killed him ! '

" Stone stood a moment gazing at the haggard
features of the once beautiful Vicky Roberts, then
pulled her away from the body, an' getting her over
where the light shone plumb in his face he jerked off
his big panther cap, an' lookin7 at her, asked : ' Have
you ever seen me before ? '

" A terrible scream was all the answer she gave, and
the unhappy woman fell in a swoon on the floor.

" i It is enough ! ' he said. * I reckon judgment
has been delivered as far as we have got ' ; and with
that he fixed to leave the cabin and was soon lost in
the darkness.

' We buried Cutler in the woods, and this was the

186 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

first grave of a white man in these parts. We warned
the Ferris brothers to quit this section, giving them
ten days to clear out, but at the end of that time we
went with Andy Scott as captain of the Regulators
to Cutler's Grove an7 found the brothers still there.
They defied us. We burned the cabin, bound the
three desperadoes, took 'em to the river several hours
distant, made a rough raft o' water logs, forced the
brothers on to it an' then pushed it out to float down
stream with nothing but the clothes on their backs.
We told them to return meant certain death.

" Vicky Stone made her way back to Virginia,
where I have always heard it said that Stone came to
see her once a year regular an' never stayed more'n
about ten minutes.

" On his twelfth yearly visit he saw her die ; but
no one ever knew what passed between them in that
last solemn hour.

" Jack Stone followed her to the grave, and after
the burial took his gun and walked away, and was
never again seen or heard of.

" An* now, sir," our visitor concluded, " you have
heard the story of how the first company of Regulators
came to be formed, an' who it was that filled the first
grave in these western wilds."

CHAPTEE XV

ALTON AND THE MISSISSIPPI

MY first good view of the Mississippi was from the
bluffs behind the city of Alton.

The prairie we had left was full of birds, insects,
flowers, and animals, but now from the great river
and the scenery all about there issued forth something
suggestive of silence and destiny. In the west rosy
clouds floated like scattered wings in an emerald sky,
while on the Missouri side a virgin forest shone in all
the russet and gold of a western autumn. There was
something bewildering in the never-ending flow of the
silent waters from unknown sources in remote
Minnesota to the far-away shores of the Gulf of
Mexico, primitive, savage, majestic in its loneliness,
laving banks of islands fringed with the long tresses
of willow and wild grape, through what seemed to me
a country of perpetual adventure and romantic change.
With its noiseless, stealthy current, and in harmony
with all the surroundings, there came over the mind a
newly awakened sadness like that produced by vague,
faint music arriving in the night.

It was much the same with the prairie, with the
difference that, while the wind moved the tall grass
in wave-like undulations, here a vast space of water
was moving in a flat, compact body without waves, in
one fixed and endless direction, and all the hopes,
fears, and affections of the world could vanish in this

188 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

current towards the gulf of oblivion and leave not a
memento behind. It was the place where philosophers
might sit and ponder on the mystery of time and
eternity.

Down a few miles below, to the south, just above
the mouth of the Missouri, there was an island covered
with foliage, situated in mid-stream, which to me was
a place full of mysterious charm. I used to sit gazing
in that direction, trying to imagine how things looked
in the wonderful meeting-place of the two great rivers.
From the bluffs back of the town I could see for miles,
but my favourite place to sit was just above our house,
on the outskirts, looking south, with nothing to mar
the wild, primitive charm of river and wood, for in
this spot the town itself was invisible. There were
days when I sat for hours on this bluff ; the supreme
moments came with the passing of boats, such as the
War Eagle, the City of Louisiana, or the Post Boy,
down the Mississippi in full mid-stream. The War
Eagle was a side-wheeler plying between St. Louis
and Keokuk, the Post Boy was a stern-wheeler plying
between St. Louis, Alton, and towns on the Illinois
Eiver. When a boat made the return journey down
stream it put the last touch of enchantment to the
face of the waters. It filled me with visions of distant
worlds as it skimmed the smooth surface, the smoke
from the chimneys leaving a long, scattered trail, the
white steam puffing out of the 'scape pipes in rhythmic
movement, the paddle-wheels throwing out thick
showers as the beautiful apparition sped like a dream
southward. Around it gathered all the illusions
natural to ignorance and inexperience. It departed
down the river like some vision floating away on the

ALTON AND THE MISSISSIPPI 189

stream of adventure into regions to me unknown and
unheard-of. Other boats came and went, each with a
wild, inarticulate charm, but when I heard the long,
low, sonorous whistle of some new and strange arrival
the effect was such that I went about in a sort of
ecstasy and my mouth was sealed for the rest of that
day.

These boat whistles were musical and suggestive
beyond anything I have ever heard since ; they gave
to the river region something poetic and mystical ;
they were the voices that broke the silence and
haunted the shores of the great valley, and the effect
of these sounds while the boat loomed slowly up the
Mississippi in the deepening dusk gave me a frisson
of the supernatural. Out of what curious world was
the boat now emerging ? From what land of adven-
ture had it found its way thus far ? On the nights
when I saw the fitful lights far down the black gulf
and heard the thrilling sounds of whistle and puffing
engines, sleep was a thing not to be thought of, and
I lay awake thinking and wondering.

About two miles from the town there was a place
where boys used to band together to " go in swim-
ming," and in this spot I took my first swimming
lesson. One day I swam a little too far from the bank
and found it hard work to escape from the powerful
Mississippi current. Here at this particular spot there
was a delicious shaded creek where we fished for
perch and bass, and farther on, in the woods, we went
in search of paw-paw trees and came across flying
squirrels, strange birds, and huge flocks of wild
pigeons. These were the woods of enchantment, by
the borders of the Father of Waters, in the soft, warm

190 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

autumn days when health and unadulterated joy made
life worth living.

Rafts and drift logs were other things that added
romance to the Mississippi, the raft especially, it being
an object that floated without emitting any sound. It
looked frail and phantomesque, in keeping with the
strange shores and virgin forests, the people handling
it giving the impression of men arriving from some
shipwreck on distant seas.

Alton gave me hundreds of new sensations, but the
town itself did not interest me so much as the boats
at landing-time, the heaving of the big gang-plank by
bands of black, burly negroes, the fearful oaths of the
semi-savage mates of the genus slave-driver, beings of
a class apart, whole continents of civilisation sepa-
rating them and us, the bustle and hurry of passengers
coming off or going on, the timid, languorous air of
some of the country people with heavy carpet-bags,
the sharp, keen faces of old-timers and professional
gamblers, the interminable line of negro boat-hands,
coming and going like great black bumble-bees from
a floating hive which emitted steam and smelt of tar
and spices, the profoundly suggestive air of cosmo-
politanism whiffed out from the deck in bales of
cotton, barrels of sugar, rum, molasses, tobacco, and
sacks of grain that made the stoutest negroes stagger
like drunken men, a fresh volley of curses smiting
them when they appeared about to fall — all this filled
me with amazement. I held my breath the first time
I heard the mate hurl volley after volley of oaths at
the perspiring negroes, hustling helter-skelter to get
the work done within a given time. I saw the black
man actually at work. Hundreds of times then, and

ALTON AND THE MISSISSIPPI 191

later, on the levee at St. Louis, I stood and watched
these black deck-hands, and singling out someone
weaker than the others I wondered how he would
manage to carry his load up or down the gang-plank.

One day a group of idle negroes were standing
watching the departure of the War Eagle, when I
overheard some observations touching the profession
of a Mississippi mate.

"Don' you set dar en talk te me 'bout dat War
Eagle mate bein' 'tickler," said the oldest of the
negroes. " You's too young yit ; wait till you git on
one o' dem boats w'at goes furder down de ribber en
den you likely see summin w'at make you 'member
dar's a debble w'at hold a mo'gage on po' weak niggers.
If you 'low dis mate am full o' p'izen don' you nebber
go 'way fr'm heah ; if yo' shanks am ekil te ca'y'in' a
load up dat gang-plank 'thout stoppin' de bref in yo'
wind-pipe den I say keep on right whar you is. Talk
te me 'bout cussin' ! You ain't nebber heerd none
yit 1 Dat mate down on the Belle 6* Memphis he fling
a tail o' brimstone behin' dem niggers w'at fill de air
wid blue sparks, dat he do, en one o' de hands he fin'
it so hot on de gang-plank he topple ober in the ribber
te cool hisself off ; yes, sah, he topple ober jes' te
'scape de red-hot cussin' o' dat mate. Nudder time
one o' de hands he 'low he gettin' de rumatiz in his
shoulder-blade, en 'low he 'bliged te stop ca'y'in'
barrels en passels on his back, but fust thing he know
he fin' hisself comin' up de gang-plank on de Belle 0'
Memphis mos' doubled up under one o' dem big loads,
en he 'gin to puff en blow, en right dar de mate he
broke loose en he 'gin te let off steam, en he cussed
dat tremblin' nigger till de rumatiz fin' it 'greeable

192 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

te change fr'm de upper story te de heels, en dat ole
nigger don' nebber feel it no mo' in de shouldah-
j'ints. Yes, sah, you heah me ! "

The buildings and stores of Alton and the general
aspect of the whole place impressed me with a sense
of age. There was about it something mature, settled,
old-fashioned; but I discovered many years later that all
the river towns were dreamy and sleepy except those
in the far north.

Here I went to the public school, but I cannot
remember having learnt a single thing worth knowing
except perhaps Longfellow's " Psalm of Life," which
the whole school, boys and girls, repeated in chorus
every morning at the opening. This was a " Yankee "
school, the principal, Mrs. Lee, and the class-room
teacher, Mrs. Crane, being from New England. One
old saw out of the geography I remember to this
day : when Mrs. Lee put the question to the brightest
girl in the school, " What did the Mexican soldiers
do when they first heard the sound of the American
cannons?" she gave her golden curls a shake and
bawled out the answer : " They thought it was thunder
and lightning and fled from them."

Her name was Eosa Coffin ; and the name, her
fearless manner, her smartness, and the Mexican war,
all combined to stamp this little incident on my
memory.

Going to this school must have been part of the
great sub-conscious scheme of romance in my life ; it
had to be. It was a pleasant waste of time. What
I enjoyed most about it was the sight of hundreds of
swallows or martins inhabiting holes in the banks of
the new street cut through the hill over which I had

ALTON AND THE MISSISSIPPI 193

to pass before I could reach the school-house. This
was to me a never-ending charm.

In Alton my parents were communicants at Christ
Church Episcopal. The service was to me very curious
and solemn, the severe face of the bearded rector, Dr.
MacMasters, exactly fitting the rough stone walls of
the church and the dim sepulchral atmosphere of the
edifice within. My parents sometimes went to hear
Dr. Taylor preach at the Presbyterian Church, and
here I heard a new set of hymns, but to my thinking
—and I think so still — they lacked the sentiment,
originality, and simplicity of the old Methodist hymns
of the prairie. The fact is this Alton and everything
in it was a chip off the old block of New England and
European conventions. Looking back at it now, I
cannot see any difference between it and Boston or
London, excepting in size and geographical situation.

We were living in a large old house on the southern
outskirts which had once been occupied by nuns who
had a private school there. It faced the great high-
road leading out into the prairies, and we could see
from the windows the wagons and buggies arriving
from the country far beyond. This residence was
the halfway house between the Log-House and the
one we were to occupy in St. Louis ; and it was for
me well that it was so, for in this way the change from
the open prairie to the cosmopolitan metropolis of
Missouri was made gradually.

One day our attention was attracted to the number
of people coming down the hill in wagons and on
horseback, and while watching them two figures that
looked familiar approached, jogging along on steeds
that looked tired. The men had about them something

v.s. o

194 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

odd, almost fantastic. As they passed the house
we recognised Azariah James and Elihu Gest. In
less than half-an-hour along came Isaac Snedeker,
then other familiar faces. But what did it mean ?
All the old outspoken Abolitionists from up-country,
with some of the Pro-Slavery people, were filing past.
When my father was asked what was the matter, he
only said : " To-morrow is the great day ! "

CHAPTER XVI

ABRAHAM LINCOLN

IT was the 15th day of October, 1858. Crowds
were pouring into Alton. For some days people had
been arriving by the steam-packets from up and
down the river, the up -boats from St. Louis, bringing
visitors with long, black hair, goatees, and stolid, Indian-
like faces, slave-owners and slave-dealers, from the
human marts of Missouri and Kentucky ; the northern
visitors arriving by boat or rail, Abolitionists and
Eepublicans, with a cast of features distinctly different
from the types coming from the south.

They came from villages, townships, the prairies,
from all the adjoining counties, from across the
Mississippi, from far-away cities, from representative
societies north and south, from congressional com-
mittees in the east, from leading journals of all political
parties, and from every religious denomination within
hundreds of miles, filling the broad space in front of
the Town Hall, eager to see and hear the now famous
debaters — the popular Stephen A. Douglas, United
States Senator, nicknamed the "Little Giant," and plain
Abraham Lincoln, nicknamed the " Rail- Splitter."

The great debate had begun on the 21st of August
at another town, and to-day the long-discussed subject
would be brought to a close. Douglas stood for the
doctrine that slavery was nationalised by the Consti-
tution, that Congress had no authority to prevent its

o 2

196 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

introduction in the new Territories like "Kansas and
Nebraska, and that the people of each Sta!:e TO aid
alone decide whether they should be slave States or
free. Lincoln opposed the introduction of slavery
into the new Territories.

On this memorable day the " irrepressible conflict "
predicted by Seward actually began, and it was bruited
about that Lincoln would be mobbed or assassinated
if he repeated here the words he used in some of his
speeches delivered in the northern part of the State.
From the surging sea of faces thousands of anxious
eyes gazed upward at the group of politicians on the
balcony like wrecked mariners scanning the horizon
for the smallest sign of a white sail of hope.

This final debate resembled a duel between two
men-of-war, the pick of a great fleet, all but these
two sunk or abandoned in other waters, facing each
other in the open, the Little Giant hurling at his
opponent, from his flagship of slavery, the deadliest
missiles, Lincoln calmly waiting to sink his antagonist
by one simple broadsider. Alton had seen nothing
so exciting since the assassination of Lovejoy, the
fearless Abolitionist, many years before.

In the earlier discussions Douglas seemed to have
the advantage. A past-master in tact and audacity,
skilled in the art of rhetorical skirmishing, he had
no equal on the " stump," while in the Senate he
was feared by the most brilliant debaters for his
ready wit and his dashing eloquence.

Eegarded in the light of historical experience,
reasoned about in the light of spiritual reality, and
from the point of view that nothing can happen by
chance, it seems as if Lincoln and Douglas were

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 197

predestined to meet side by side in this discussion, and
unless I dwell in detail on the mental and physical
contrast the speakers presented it would be impossible
to give an adequate idea of the startling difference in
the two temperaments : Douglas — short, plump, and
petulant ; Lincoln — long, gaunt, and self-possessed ;
the one white-haired and florid, the other black-haired
and swarthy ; the one educated and polished, the other
unlettered and primitive. Douglas had the assurance
of a man of authority, Lincoln had moments of deep
mental depression, often bordering on melancholy, yet
controlled by a fixed, and, I may say, predestined will,
for it can no longer be doubted that without the
marvellous blend of humour and stolid patience so con-
spicuous in his character, Lincoln's genius would have
turned to madness after the defeat of the Northern
Army at Bull-Bun, and the world would have had
something like a repetition of Napoleon's fate after the
burning of Moscow. Lincoln's humour was the balance-
pole of his genius that enabled him to cross the most
giddy heights without losing his head. Judge Douglas
opened the debate in a sonorous voice plainly heard
throughout the assembly, and with a look of mingled
defiance and confidence he marshalled his facts and
deduced his arguments. To the vigour of his attack
there was added the prestige of the Senate Chamber,
and for some moments it looked as if he would carry
the majority with him, a large portion of the crowd
being Pro -Slavery men, while many others were " on
the fence " waiting to be persuaded.

At last, after a great oratorical effort, he brought his
speech to a close amidst the shouts and yells of
thousands of admirers.

198 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

And now Abraham Lincoln, the man who, in 1830,
undertook to split for Mrs. Nancy Miller four hundred
rails for every yard of brown jean dyed with walnut
bark that would be required to make him a pair of
trousers, the flat boatman, local stump-speaker and
country lawyer, rose from his seat, stretched his long
bony limbs upward as if to get them into working
order, and stood like some solitary pine on a lonely
summit, very tall, very dark, very gaunt, and very
rugged, his swarthy features stamped with a sad
serenity, and the instant he began to speak the
ungainly mouth lost its heaviness, the half-listless
eyes attained a wondrous power, and the people stood
bewildered and breathless under the natural magic of
the strangest, most original personality known to the
English- speaking world since Robert Burns. There
were other very tall and dark men in the heterogeneous
assembly, but not one who resembled the speaker.
Every movement of his long, muscular frame denoted
inflexible earnestness, and a something issued forth,
elemental and mystical, that told what the man had
been, what he was, and what he would do in the future.
There were moments when he seemed all legs and feet,
and again he appeared all head and neck ; yet every
look of the deep-set eyes, every movement of the
prominent jaw, every wave of the hard-gripping hand,
produced an impression, and before he had spoken
twenty minutes the conviction took possession of
thousands that here was the prophetic man of the
present and the political saviour of the future. Judges
of human nature saw at a glance that a man so
ungainly, so natural, so earnest, and so forcible, had no
place in his mental economy for the thing called vanity.

ABKAHAM LINCOLN 199

Douglas had been theatrical and scholarly, but this
tall, homely man was creating by his very looks what
the brilliant lawyer and experienced Senator had failed
to make people see and feel. The Little Giant had
assumed striking attitudes, played tricks with his
flowing white hair, mimicking the airs of authority
with patronising allusions; but these affectations,
usually so effective when he addressed an audience
alone, went for nothing when brought face to face
with realities. Lincoln had no genius for gesture and
no desire to produce a sensation. The failure of
Senator Douglas to bring conviction to critical minds
was caused by three things : a lack of logical sequence
in argument, a lack of intuitional judgment, and a
vanity that was caused by too much intellect and too
little heart. Douglas had been arrogant and vehement,
Lincoln was now logical and penetrating. The Little
Giant was a living picture of ostentatious vanity ;
from every feature of Lincoln's face there radiated
the calm, inherent strength that always accompanies
power. He relied on no props. With a pride suffi-
cient to protect his mind and a will sufficient to defend
his body, he drank water when Douglas, with all his
wit and rhetoric, could begin or end nothing without
stimulants. Here, then, was one man out of all the
millions who believed in himself, who did not consult
with others about what to say, who never for a moment
respected the opinion of men who preached a lie. My
old friend, Don Piatt, in his personal impressions of
Lincoln, whom he knew well and greatly esteemed,
declares him to be the homeliest man he ever saw ; but
serene confidence and self -poise can never be ugly.
What thrilled the people who stood before Abraham

200 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

Lincoln on that day was the sight of a being who, in
all his actions and habits, resembled themselves,
gentle as he was strong, fearless as he was honest,
who towered above them all in that psychic radiance
that penetrates in some mysterious way every fibre of
the hearer s consciousness.

The enthusiasm created by Douglas was wrought
out of smart epigram thrusts and a facile superficial
eloquence. He was a match for the politicians born
within the confines of his own intellectual circle :
witty, brilliant, cunning and shallow, his weight in
the political balance was purely materialistic ; his
scales of justice tipped to the side of cotton, slavery
and popular passions, while the man who faced him
now brought to the assembly cold logic in place of wit,
frankness in place of cunning, reasoned will and judg-
ment in place of chicanery and sophistry. Lincoln's
presence infused into the mixed and uncertain throng
something spiritual and supernormal. His looks, his
words, his voice, his attitude were like a magical essence
dropped into the seething cauldron of politics, reacting
against the foam, calming the surface and letting the
people see to the bottom. It did not take him long.

" Is it not a false statesmanship," he asked, " that
undertakes to build up a system of policy upon the
basis of caring nothing about the very thing that every-
body does care the most about ? Judge Douglas may
say he cares not whether slavery is voted up or down,
but he must have a choice between a right thing and
a wrong thing. He contends that whatever community
wants slaves has a right to have them. So they have,
if it is not a wrong ; but if it is a wrong he cannot say
people have a right to do wrong. He says that upon

ABEAHAM LINCOLN , 201

the score of equality slaves should be allowed to go
into a new Territory like other property. This is
strictly logical if there is no difference between it and
other property. If it and other property are equal his
argument is entirely logical ; but if you insist that one
is wrong and the other right there is no use to institute
a comparison between right and wrong/*

This was the broadsider. The great duel on the
high seas of politics was over. The Douglas ship of
State Sovereignty was sinking. The debate was a
triumph that would send Lincoln to Washington as
President in a little more than two years from that date.

People were fascinated by the gaunt figure, in long,
loose garments, that seemed like a "huge skeleton in
clothes," attracted by the homely face, and mystified,
yet proud of the fact that a simple denizen of their
own soil should wield so much power.

When Lincoln sat down Douglas made one last
feeble attempt at an answer ; but Lincoln, in reply to
a spectator who manifested some apprehension as to
the outcome, rose, and spreading out his great arms
at full length, like a condor about to take wing,
exclaimed, with humorous indifference, " Oh ! let him
go it ! " These were the last words he uttered in the
greatest debate of the ante-bellum days.

The victor bundled up his papers and withdrew, the
assembly shouting, " Hurrah for Abe Lincoln as next
President!" " Bully for old Abe!" "Lincoln for
ever ! " etc., etc. Excited crowds followed him about,
reporters caught his slightest word, and by night time
the bar-rooms, hotels, street corners and prominent
stores were filled with his admirers, fairly intoxicated
with the exciting triumph of the day.

CHAPTER XVII

ST. LOUIS : SOCIETY AND THE CHURCHES.

IN the late autumn of 1859 we were settled in
St. Louis, and for me, at least, the real stress and
movement of life began.

Alton, as I said before, was the halfway house
between the open prairie and the cosmopolitan city on
the Mississippi, the great Emporium of the West, as
it was called at that time. The weather was cold and
gloomy, the air full of smoke, the houses old and
dingy ; there was not the faintest suggestion of any-
thing bright or cheerful.

St. Louis looked old, perhaps, because its spirit was
old ; its character was fixed, like that of a person long
used to fixed modes and habits, conventional and con-
tented. There was no hurrying and bustling. Things
had always progressed slowly because of the atmo-
sphere of southern lethargy and luxury, the ease and
nonchalance in which so many of the ruling classes of
St. Louis had been born and bred. Without slavery
the city would have worn a very different aspect.

Society in St. Louis was the outcome of two things:
the institution of slavery, and the fact that the
majority of the leading citizens were church-going
Episcopalians ; yet it required all sorts and conditions
of people to compose a cosmopolitan city, and St.
Louis had them — thousands of free-thinking Germans
opposed to thousands of German Catholics ; thousands

ST. LOUIS: SOCIETY AND THE CHUKCHES 203

of Irish, almost to a man faithful Catholics ; the
descendants of old French families from Louisiana,
mostly Catholics; Scotch and American Presby-
terians, Unitarians, Congregationalists, but not many
Methodists.

In the commercial world the Yankees ruled ; but
the old, slow, languid, proud, hospitable founders of
St. Louis, and its social leaders, were the owners of
slaves, and they formed the majority of the members
of the Episcopal Church.

In St. Louis this church was at the head of fashion,
and social exclusiveness and the code of honour was
that of Virginia, Maryland, Kentucky, and the Far
South. The Europeans who emigrated to America at
that time could not grasp the facts in relation to this
proud, aristocratic class. It was slavery that came as
a barrier. People from the Eastern States, as well as
people from Europe, had white servants ; the old St.
Louisians were never served by white people. Yet all
went well in society as a whole. The Germans lived
apart, principally in the northern and southern
portions of the city ; the French kept to their old
customs and traditions; the Irish, as a class, lived
apart, and in case of illness they would send for a
doctor who was an Irishman.

My parents became communicants of Trinity
Episcopal Church in Washington Avenue. The
different churches in St. Louis were to me like
different people. I studied them as I would a rare
flower or a curious picture. Our Sundays were
portioned off as follows : At nine in the morning I
went with my eldest sister to Sunday-school at
Trinity, where she had a class of very young people,

204 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

and where I sat under Henry Simons, a young man
who, later, became a wealthy and influential citizen,
and who, for all I know, may be still living. As soon
as Sunday-school was over the church began to fill for
the morning service. At one o'clock we went home
for a cold luncheon, my mother permitting no cooking
to be done on Sunday, after which I started again
with my sister to attend an afternoon school at Dr.
Anderson's Presbyterian Church, on Sixth and Locust
Streets. My sister taught another class here, and no
sooner was this school over than we hurried away to
the south-western part of the town for another Sunday-
school at a Presbyterian Church where Mr. Wood was
the leader.

We had only time to return to the house for another
cold meal, when again we set out for Trinity Church,
my parents always attending both morning and
evening services to hear Dr. Hutchinson preach in his
simple way, without a gesture, without an idea,
without the faintest suggestion of any deep emotion
or reviving influence. The old order might have gone
on till the present for all that this good man's sermons
did to change anyone or anything. As I remember
it, the congregation here was typically exclusive and
conventional ; ceremonious to the point of bowing
with extreme deference and courtly politeness when a
lady was being ushered to a seat in the softly-cushioned
pews, the congregation rising and sitting down like a
company of well- drilled soldiers, no one turning to
look about, no sensational incident ever occurring to
mar the unity of the whole.

Three persons in this congregation stand out clearly
defined to my vision, even at this distance : there was

ST. LOUIS: SOCIETY AND THE CHURCHES 205

a young man named William H. Thompson, the head
of Trinity Sunday-school, who, elegant in his dress,
manner, and figure, used to bow his beautiful wife
into her pew as if she had been a royal princess
attending some formal Court function ; there was a
distinguished citizen named D. A. January, tall, stiff-
necked, with an eagle eye and a powerful head, he,
too, conducting a beautiful wife to her pew with a
courtly, imperious air ; and my father, towering some
inches above the tallest, the most imposing of them
all, as straight as a statue, inflexible as a steel rod.

It would seem that such an assembly were destined
to sit Sunday after Sunday without a thrill of emotion,
but there were moments during the service when
music came to make up for the lack of eloquence and
power in the preaching. Yes, we had music ! And,
of all things in the world, operatic music. We sat
under the spell of a paid choir ; we were charmed by
the incomparable voice of the gifted Annie Dean, and
there were times when the listeners must have lost
sight of rector, pulpit, vestments, everything, in the
delightful sensations produced by the four gifted
singers of this choir. Nor was this all the sensation
Sunday had to offer. If inside the church the ear
was charmed with lovely voices, outside, when the
congregation was dismissed, there was a feast for the
eyes in the lovely faces of the women, dressed in the
latest Parisian fashions. All the churches were full
on a Sunday, and when the people streamed out, long,
stately lines of beauty passed through the central part
of the town ; and as we came to Pine Street we met
the major portion of St. George's congregation coming
up the street, and these intermingling with people

206 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

from Christ's Church, made the streets glow with
delicate colours and that southern type of beauty that
made St. Louis famous long before the great War of
Secession.

Well do I remember one Sunday in 1860, when the
soft airs of an early spring wandered up from the
west, transforming the streets, the people, their looks,
their dress, while, bathed in limpid sunshine, the
brilliant procession from the churches filled the streets;
and from the throng of elegant women there came
now and again a passing whiff from the orange -groves
of Louisiana ; and from old family prayer-books with
golden clasps, saturated with the faint odour of old
rose-leaves, there emanated an overpowering sense of
the frailty of wealth, the inutility of fashion, the
fatality of beauty, \*hich in some mysterious manner
came with a presentiment of languid decay and
predestined calamity. It was a delightful promenade
around a paradise of ease and contentment, where
luxurious growths hid the vapours of the volcano
under their feet. In what state of mind would aristo-
cratic St. Louis find itself in another year ? In the
meantime I saw and heard all I could without asking
any questions of anyone.

First, I had a deep desire to see the inside of that,
to me, solemn and mystical edifice that stands on
Ninth Street, near Washington Avenue. How many
times I had passed its great, bulky doors without
going in ! How calm and sleepy it stood in the hot
summer days, how dark and gloomy when the days
were cold and smoke hung over the town ; but my
souvenirs of old St. Louis are of warm, genial airs,
of long, dreamy springs and splendid autumns ; and

ST. LOUIS: SOCIETY AND THE CHURCHES 207

amidst the tranquil hush of all that neighbourhood
the old Jesuit Church of St. Xavier stood like a block
removed from the Mexico of Montezuma, plunged in
the shadows of a mystical something which I could
not fathom. It had an aspect all its own. Beside it
all the other churches looked very modern and very
simple. It faced the street without any architectural
pretension, as if to say, " My power is within ; on my
facade is the alphabet; within you will find the
language, the music, the myrrh, and the mystery ! "
It had the quality and illusion of very old lace once
worn by grandees at great Courts, and handed down
from princes to personalities, and from personalities
to humble priests. It was placid as a still, deep lake
shut in by mountains, and all about it there was an
air that seemed to say, " Nothing matters ; the world
is a shadow."

The bells of St. Xavier sounded like no other bells
in old St. Louis. I could hear them distinctly where
we lived ; and I remember three, the far-reaching
boom of the deeper bell carrying with it a suggestion
of peremptory mournfulness, an impression of some-
thing fixed and permanent in a city of fleeting
illusions.

At last, one day early in that fatal year of 1861, I
was sauntering by the church when my attention was
directed to the crowds hurrying towards its doors.
All ages and conditions of people were represented
in the gathering, with hardly a glimmer of fashion
visible, the people mostly of the humbler classes,
emigrants from the old country, still moved by the
memories of tragic scenes, women in black, women
with pale, pinched faces, haunted yet by the hunger

208 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

and the horror of the Irish famine, mounting the
church steps as if to a Calvary of devotion, all bodily
fatigue forgotten for the moment. Such were the
people I saw pouring through the doors of the leading
Jesuit Church of North America. I stood and gazed
at all these earnest, wistful faces, and half-an-hour
must have elapsed before the impulse seized me to
pass the threshold of the mysterious edifice and see
and hear for myself. I slipped in, holding my breath
for fear someone would ask me what I was doing
there, and I was gradually pushed forward by the
ever- increasing masses of worshippers until I stood
in a throng nearly halfway up the left aisle. Absent
were the tall, graceful lilies, the wandering whiffs
from pressed rose-leaves of the ultra-refined wor-
shippers of Trinity ; absent the conventional dignity
and pomp of wealth, and in their places appeared the
inviolable sorrows of deep and prolonged tribulation,
the voiceless gestures of the weary in exile, the sombre
hues, deepened by the pervading gloom of the massive
church, and the dusky faces of negro worshippers
scattered through the assembly like black beads on a
pall of mourning.

All the pews in the galleries and in the main body
of the church were filled, the aisles were filled, a
crowd stood packed under the choir. I felt as if some
unseen presence was about to descend on the altar,
and all at once I was startled by a peal from the organ
and choir, and a procession of priests entered the
chancel.

There was a maze of soft, flickering lights and
glistening vestments, and I thought of the contrast
between this and the scene of the camp-meeting ; and

ST. LOUIS: SOCIETY AND THE CHUKCHES 209

although Trinity Church was only two blocks distant,
what a contrast between the service there and this
ceremony at St. Xavier's ! I was in another world.
Here were symbolical mysteries, accompanied by
Mozart's music, with stately movements in harmony
with the beauty of the rhythmic sounds, and faces,
figures, colours, lights, glittering vestments, were
presently merged in a cloud of vapoury incense, rising
in puffs towards the galleries, descending slowly,
imperceptibly, until objects in front seemed enveloped
in a soft, transparent haze, out of which came strange
odours of the Orient.

A priest now mounted the steps to the pulpit, and
all eyes were riveted there. His hair was black, his
face very dark, his glance quick and magnetic, his
voice and message imperative.

Father Garache — for he was the preacher — was a man
who had something to say and knew how to express
himself. He seemed to eye everyone individually,
now to the right, now to the left, now straight before
him ; and the congregation, rapt in awe and fear, sat
rigid under his terrible denunciations of the wicked
and his fearful descriptions of Purgatory.

After that, when the preacher stepped down from
the pulpit, he looked like one returning from a long
and weary walk through a wilderness of tombs ; and
the music of the organ came as something magical to
invite the half -freed spirit back to the house of flesh
and a world of apparent realities.

Here I looked about me at the worshippers. In a
pew just beyond where I stood I thought I saw some-
one whose figure seemed uncomfortably familiar.
Could it be possible ? Yes, no — yes, it was he — the

v.s. p

210 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

fat, round back and neck of Mr. O'Kieff, the class-
room teacher of Benton School, who had beaten me
on the hand with his ruler only two days before.

I pitied him ; for somehow he seemed even more
contrite and miserable than the poor women in black
sitting near him, weak and weary as they looked, and
I said to myself, " The next time he beats me on the
hand I shall think, * I am happier than you, and I can
afford it.' "

There are persons who oppress the imagination with
a feeling of mortality at the very time when a sense
of immortality is supposed to dominate all the other
feelings. How heavy and material, I thought to my-
self, would poor O'Kieff's coffin be, and how light that
of the frail widow in mourning sitting next him. All
these humble women, pale, shrunken, filled with the
fire of devotion, they looked to me more than half
spirit already, only waiting the slightest breath to
waft them away, soul and body, to regions of eternal
repose ; and they gave to the church, the mass, the
symbols, the music, the assembly, the final gesture of
resignation when, at the supreme moment, there was a
sound of a mystic bell in the chancel ; then a rustling
of garments, as of innumerable wings settling down
to rest, and the whole concourse sank to the floor
on their knees. A tall priest stood up in front of
the altar with the Host held high before him ; an
immeasurable solemnity brooded over the multitude
of bowed heads, and there was a mingling of prayers
and pity and sorrow for dear ones left behind in the
old country, and the heart seemed to have reached
the nadir of worldly resignation. Again the bell
sounded ; and there arose all over the congregation,

ST. LOUIS: SOCIETY AND THE CHURCHES 211

from the serried ranks of bent bodies, supplicating
whispers, almost inaudible, muffled sighs that might
have been groans but for the frail, faint voices
emitting them, and short, quick phrases, as if the
last scene had been reached, and the last shadow was
passing on the dial of time, and desire had become
futile and all action useless.

I know not how or why, but the sight of all these
people coming out of the church, down the steps — a
slow, mystical stream of human hopes, emotions, and
sorrows — affected me even more than anything I had
seen within. As I stood outside and watched the
descent of that throng, the sad expression on the
faces of many of the elderly people impressed me pro-
foundly. Attending mass at this church was indeed
a serious matter, and the majority would return to
humble homes where there would be souvenirs of the
old country, and sighs, and affectionate allusions to
the absent.

Little did I then dream that I should one day sing
my first solo before the public at high mass in the
choir of St. Xavier's !

p 2

CHAPTEE XVIII

THE GREAT FAIR

THE memorable October of 1860 had arrived, the
forerunner of the fateful days of November : an Octo-
ber laden with the wild fragrance of Missouri fields,
with the last of the flowers of wood and prairie
scattered here and there, and ancient oaks and elms
guarding the high roads leading into the country.
And there were the peaceful farmhouses in the
environs of the city, lying embedded in foliage just
beginning to change from green into purple, and a
something in the air that was not spring and hardly
cool enough for autumn, yet, at the hour of noon,
radiant with a touch of summer, when everything
seemed wrapped for the moment in a dreamy languor,
with the wonderful agricultural fair-grounds resem-
bling one of Claude's most visionary landscapes.

Two things made the fair of this autumn stand
out detached from all the preceding ones : it was the
last gathering under the old political and social order,
and the Prince of Wales was coming to St. Louis with
the special purpose of seeing the immense amphi-
theatre and the far-famed trotting races.

I went with my father early on the morning of the
Prince's visit, and passing out beyond the city limits,
where the road was black with people, came to the
splendid expanse of sward and wood and placid waters
where we were soon swallowed up in the dense crowd

THE GREAT FAIR 213

representing every trade and profession in the city and
State : farmers, jockeys, horse-dealers, cattle-breeders,
city merchants, officers, bishops, Southern planters,
gamblers, river captains, pilots ; and there were digni-
fied matrons attended by their beautiful daughters
who represented all the leading churches of the city,
each in charge of a booth where all sorts of fancy
articles were sold for the benefit of the different
charitable institutions. Such a sight could be
witnessed nowhere else in the world.

The Prince of Wales arrived on the grounds in a
carriage drawn by four black horses. In the same
carriage sat Lord Lyons, the British Ambassador, and
the Duke of Newcastle ; and as soon as the royal
party appeared in the crowd it was surrounded, or
rather mobbed, by a band of shouting boys who
grasped the spokes of the wheels and helped the
carriage along.

The Prince looked serious and somewhat bored;
and no wonder. Nevertheless, he was repaid for
having to pass through this mob when he took his
seat in the amphitheatre and where for more than
three hours he was entertained by a brilliant display
of trotting matches. Nowhere else had the royal
party witnessed such a concourse of people amidst
such surroundings.

While my father was greatly taken with the trotting
matches and the fine display of fat cattle, I was
interested in the crowd itself, the first real mob I
had ever seen. And what a mixture of sensations —
the struggling masses of people on the outside of
the amphitheatre, the gawks from the backwoods,
the heavy, listless gait of some, the quick, smart

214 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

movements of others, the open-mouthed amazement, the
cynical cunning of the confidence men, the vendors of
drinks, the queer noises, the dust, the smell, the con-
fusion of aims, the clash of interests, the voices of
strange, wandering singers, the sound of guitars — so
sad, so serene in this bedlam of bewildering emotions
— the glimpse of the Chinese pagoda rising from the
centre of the arena like a pagan symbol in a feverish
dream, the shouts from a hundred thousand throats as
the trotting favourites measure noses in the last round
on the greatest day in the history of the fair 1

Who had time to think of the approaching elections,
the rumours of war ?

I returned home that evening moved by the simple
melody sung by the three young singers with their
guitars ; and all through the years that followed I
heard, and still hear, the words that seemed to be
born with the music :

" Shall we never more behold thee,

Never hear thy gentle voice again ?
When the Spring-time comes, gentle Annie,
And the wild flowers are scattered o'er the plain."

A few weeks later the fair was forgotten in the
political excitement of the hour. Election day was
at hand. A new President was to be chosen.

CHAPTEE XIX

THE PLANTERS7 HOUSE

THE Planters' House ! What did it not represent
in the history of the Far West in the early days ! To
me it was St. Louis itself. This famous hotel typified
life on the Mississippi, life on the prairies, life in the
cotton-fields, life in the cosmopolitan city. It stood
for wealth, fashion, adventure, ease, romance — all the
dreams of the new life of the Great West. It was the one
fixed point where people met to gossip, discuss politics,
and talk business. It was the universal rendezvous
for the Mississippi Valley. Here the North met the
South, the East met the West. It looked like nothing
else in the hotel world, but it always seemed to me it
was intended more for pilots, river-captains, romantic
explorers, far-seeing speculators, and daring gamblers.

It was here the goatee type was seen in all its
perfection. On some of the chins the tufts of hard,
pointed hair gave a corkscrew look to the dark faces,
which somehow harmonised well with the eternal
quaffing of mint-juleps, sherry-cobblers, and gin cock-
tails.

An hour spent in the Planters' House just before
the great election was an experience never to be
forgotten. All who did not want to shoot or be shot
steered a clear course in some other direction, for
here, in the bar and lobbies, were the true "fire-
eaters " to be met, and while some had already killed
their man, others were looking for a man to kill.

216 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

The fire-eaters were of two kinds : those who said
little but did much, and those who drank much, talked
much, and brandished pistols freely. Besides these
there was an independent third party, namely, the
listeners. Those were the wise, silent ones. They
were, perhaps, the most interesting because they
were amusing. The wise, silent listener would be
smoking a big El Sol cigar, which gave him some-
thing to "chaw" on; and during the fearful oaths
and invectives poured forth by the fire-eater the
unfortunate victim would find his huge cigar not
only smoked but " chawed " down to the very stump.
Thus, without knowing it, he would be chewing and
smoking at the same time. How innocent and bland
he sometimes appeared while in the clutches of a
down-river bowie-knife man. The fire-eater could
hardly be mistaken for any other type. It was the
keen, glossy eye of a snake under strong, dark eye-
brows, sometimes thick and shaggy, sometimes thin
and arched ; and if the latter, the whole aspect of the
face was fashioned in harmony with the clear-cut eye-
brow, penetrating as a black steel point, above a
piercing black eye. A pair of such eyes, once fixed
on a lounger bent on keeping the peace, and his case
was settled. But the silent listener at once took
refuge behind a vocabulary of stock phrases. After a
few drinks the political desperado would feel himself
beginning to " b'ile over," and looked about him for
someone to blow off steam on. There would be the
man of peace at the bar who feels that one drink is
quite enough and wishes to take a seat in an arm-chair
or lean against the wall of the bar-room, take it easy,
and just look and listen ; but a fire-eater, just in from

THE PLANTEES' HOUSE 217

the bloody borders of Kansas, has spotted him; he
forces him to have another drink, and begins :

" Sorter dull in St. Louis ! I reckon things will
liven up by election day."

The silent man with a fixed vocabulary answers :

" I reckon they will."

" Looky heah," continues the desperado, placing a
hard, lanky hand on the shoulder of his victim, " I've
put daylight through more'n one Abolitionist out
there in Kansas, an? I'll be hanged if I don't do the
same for the fust man here who says he's a-goin' te
vote fer that miserable skunk Abe Lincoln."

" Yes, sah."

" I reckon the Planters' House is all sound on the
Little Giant, good ole Steve Douglas."

" I reckon she air,"

" Now you look like a fair, square, up and down
Douglas man, an' solid on the nigger question."

" I reckon I be."

" I kin pick out the skulkin' Yankee cowards in a
crowd any day ; ye kin tell 'em by their sleek ways
an' their innocent looks, eh ? "

" I reckon you can, sah."

At this juncture up stalks another fire-eater, eyes
glaring, hair long and loose, his big felt hat set
back on his head, and, fixing his ferret gaze on the
silent man, shouts :

" Hurrah fer Fremont ! I fit under John C.
Fremont ! You're a Fremont man, I know ye air,
and we're a-goin' t'elect him. Come on, have a drink
with me, gov'nah," and up he drags the wretched
victim to the crowded bar, and there, trembling like a
canary-bird in a cage between two rattlesnakes, the

218 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

man of peace and silence has just wit enough left to
answer with assumed assurance, " Yes, sah ; I reckon
ye're right, sah."

But the scene has not ended.

The Kansas fire-eater, who is now fairly on the
war-path and itching for a scalp, turns suddenly on
the man of peace and shouts :

" Looky heah, stranger, you told me just now you
was fer Douglas ! What do you mean by harrowin'
the feelin's of an honest man ? If there's anything I
despise worse'n a Yankee its a turn-coat. Yes, sir-ree,
a turn-coat ! Set there a-tellin' me how clean broke
up ye air on Steve Douglas, an' now ye're drinkin'
that stranger's whisky an' tellin' him ye're plumb
gone on Fremont 1 Is that there a fair fight ? "

By this time the silent man is saying his prayers,
also in silence — scared, white in the face, not knowing
what to do or what to say, afraid to move, his stock
phrases worse than puerile, with just life enough left
to hear his heart thumping and not enough strength
left in his arm to raise his glass to his lips.

" If I thought you was a turn-coat I tell ye what it
is, stranger, I'd let ye have this right through yer
gizzard," and out he whips a dirk, pointed and deadly,
a fearful gleam whirling in a circle as he brandishes
the cold steel over his head with a wicked twist of the
shoulder.

But the Fremont man, now beginning to feel the
whisky working, stands at the other side of the man
of silence. He, too, is armed, but with a revolver.

" See here, pard 1 " he cries, " suppose we fight it
out right now, an* let the gov'nah here hold the stakes,
as ye might say."

THE PLANTEKS' HOUSE 219

The gov'nah ? Good heavens ! He means the
wise, silent man, the innocent, neutral lamb, the
chewer of peaceful cuds and mumbler of joint-stock
phrases.

But listen. You can almost hear what he is
thinking. He is saying to himself, " When rogues
fall out the honest come by their own " ; and at the
first sign of hostilities down he dips and, like a yellow
dog, wriggles his way through the crowd to the door
and " slides out."

The bar-room, corridors, and halls are now filled
with excited men under the influence of drink and
half wild with suppressed passion. Some, with blood-
shot eyes, pass in and out as if seeking someone to
devour ; the place begins to steam with the heat, and
to cool the heated blood more iced mint- juleps are
disposed of, and yet more, until heads begin to reel,
quarrels arise from mere nothings, and amidst a chorus
of howls and imprecations the Yankees, the " Dutch,"
and sometimes the Irish are denounced as " low white
trash," cowards, and traitors.

In such crowds, about that time, might have been
seen the auctioneer of human flesh, the professional
slave-seller, the boldest, most abandoned of them all,
because the law was on his side. Erebus had spewed
him up from the nethermost corners — a pollution to
the polluted, a creature without wit, humour, or feel-
ing ; a menace to civilisation and a curse to patriotism.

The Planters' House was the magnet-stone that
attracted not only the country " moss-backs," but the
city millionaire, the poor man out of work and the
busy man with too much work ; and here, with the
others, came Captain U, S. Grant, plain, unassuming

220 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

Mr. Grant, as lie was usually called, and if not the
plainest man hereabouts, certainly one of the most
discouraged and disappointed. He was often to be
seen lounging about the public rooms waiting for
something to turn up. The future commander-in-
chief of the Army belonged to the silent ones, but one
whose wits had been sharpened by a vast worldly
experience and profound knowledge of human nature,
and his silence was not a sign of lethargy and stupidity,
but of knowledge and wisdom. I can see him now,
sitting in an arm-chair, smoking an El Sol cigar and
waiting with an air of extreme patience and resigna-
tion. But waiting for what ? Did he himself kno\v ?
Why was he in St. Louis at all, since everything he
attempted proved a business failure, from hauling
cord-wood into town from the log-house he had built
for his family out on the Gravois Road and selling it,
one load at a time, to the opening of a real estate
office for the buying and letting of houses ? Every-
thing he now touched failed; and yet, when the
critical hour arrived, this plain, silent man, this
business failure, would be on hand to offer his services
to General Lyon at the United States Arsenal.

My father often talked with Mr. Grant about the
price of town lots and the rent of certain houses.

Captain Grant had been all through the Mexican
War, and had served nine years in the United States
Army, and had seen service in California. He had
seen life as few had seen it, yet there he was, one of
the most discouraged men to be met with anywhere in
the Mississippi Valley.

How different the visits to the Planters' House
of Major W. T. Sherman! When this future

THE PLANTERS' HOUSE 221

commander-in-chief came it was not to lounge about,
for he was too busy. He too had seen service in
California. He declared he had come to settle down
in St. Louis as an ordinary business man. Major
Sherman lived only four blocks from us, on Locust
Street, and Willie Sherman I knew very well.

Whenever I wanted something like an excursion I
would take a ride on a Fifth Street car and go for
miles in a northerly or southerly direction. Major
Sherman, as President of the Fifth Street car line,
was often to be seen going to his office in North St.
Louis in one of these cars. One day three future
generals happened to be riding in the same car
together — Grant, the hero of Vicksburg ; Sherman, of
the great march through Georgia ; and Grierson, of the
famous raid through Mississippi.

CHAPTER XX

THE TORCH-LIGHT PROCESSION

THE last torch-light procession in St. Louis, before
the presidential election, was forming and about to
begin its long march through the principal avenues
and streets. Fremont, Douglas, and Abraham Lincoln
were among the number of aspirants to the Presidency.
I remember it as occurring just before the sixth of
November, the great day of decision, the flames from
thousands of torches lending a glow of warmth to
the chill feeling in the autumn air. My father, being
a Lincoln enthusiast, was hard at work winning
adherents to the Eepublican cause. None but the
women and children were idle, and all took sides.

My impression of this winding file of men was that
it had entered the city from some strange, distant
country — that it had, in some way, come up from the
river, and that the host of men with torches were
bringing with them an element of bitter strife, of
combat, final and fatal. I stood in the dense crowd
on the side-walk, and as the followers of the different
candidates passed with their various emblems I was
struck with the difference between the Lincoln men
and the others. About the latter there was something
spasmodic, excitable, almost hysterical, the weakness
of their favourites coming out in their own shouts and
actions, in the expression of the faces, in the hang-dog
look of the bodies ; and it was not surprising, for on

THE TORCH-LIGHT PEOCESSION 223

the part of Lincoln's opponents there was that huge
coil of the black serpent, Slavery, to drag with them,
and the effort was already plainly visible on every
face and every figure. Besides this, there was every
indication that many of Lincoln's opponents were
under the influence of drink, while the friends of the
Bail-Splitter walked with calm bodies and cool heads,
shouting with a will, fixed, determined, with the
consciousness of power and pre-ordained victory.

On it went, winding, winding, in and out, the
flickering lights passing like a fiery dragon as far as
one could see, the whole city receiving a symbolical
visitation by fire, a baptismal warning of what was
coming within the short space of a year from that
hour.

At last the day of election came and the city woke
in a sort of dream. People hardly knew what they
were doing : the tension of the past few weeks had
been more than many could bear. Thousands walked
to the poll in a half-dazed condition, with barely
sufficient will power to cast a vote. Haggard faces
were to be seen, men who had not slept soundly for
weeks ; for the triumph of the Abolition Party, the
election of Abraham Lincoln, meant the freeing of
the slaves and the ruin of thousands of slave- owners.

The seventh of November arrived, heavy with
fatality ; there were rumours, impossible rumours,
that the tall, gaunt Eail- Splitter up there at Spring-
field, Illinois, was elected. Yet none but the
Eepublicans dared believe it. The thing sounded too
much like the closing of a period, the passing of a
cycle, the winding-up of an age of dreaming.

The eighth of November arrived, and the dreadful

224 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

rumours were repeated, this time louder, with more
persistency, with something depressing added to fear ;
but when the ninth was ushered in and the rumours
were turning to acclamations of victory, a feeling of
consternation took possession of all who owned slaves.
What to do? The question was asked on either
side; but there was no immediate solution of a
difficulty so unheard-of, so unique. Wait and see
what the Republicans will do when their idol,
Abraham Lincoln, is inaugurated as President on
the fourth of March next.

In April of the next year, 1861, about a month
after Lincoln had entered the White House at
Washington, I was sitting at my desk in the Benton
School. The windows were open and I noticed a
strange flag fluttering about in a yard below.
Presently, up went the flag to the top of a pole,
high enough to be seen by people in the street.
It was the first display in St. Louis of a Secession
Flag.

During the raising of this flag Mr. Gilfillen, the
principal of Benton School, was nervous and angry ;
he walked about the room darting fierce looks at
certain of the pupils. The burly O'Kieff, in his class-
room, at the recital of lessons, gave us extra hard
beatings with his ruler.

When I left the school-house I met excited groups
of men discussing the significance of the hoisting of
such a flag. Everyone looked anxious and worried ;
things were coming to a head — thunder-clouds were
gathering ; but the lightning was reserved for the
tenth of May.

At this time we were living on Pine and Ninth

THE TOECH-LIGHT PKOCESSION 225

Streets, in the heart of the " fire-eating " district,
only three blocks from the headquarters of the Eebel
Club, which was also on Pine Street.

Up to the present things were going on in the
usual way, and to the eyes of a stranger St. Louis,
which was even at this time the storm-centre of the
War, wore its habitual, sleepy aspect, more sleepy
during the warm spring months, perhaps, than at any
other time of the year — at least, it always seemed so to
me ; and while a few far-seeing men, like Grant and
Sherman, could see the storm coming, many of the
Southern people, especially the young men, looked at
the situation much as they would at a trotting match
at the fair grounds — the blue ribbon would be carried
off by a racer from Kentucky. Others thought there
would be a short tussle with a few Northern Aboli-
tionists, when things would settle down again in the
old way ; no matter what happened, the courage —
both moral and physical — would all be on the side of
the South. It was not conceivable that a Government
headed by Lincoln could fight anyone or anything.

Some days passed. With the taking of Fort
Sumter by the rebels at Charlestown, South Carolina,
President Lincoln called for volunteers to put down
the rebellion. Five regiments, composed mainly of
German citizens of St. Louis, were soon got together and
were to be seen marching towards the National Arsenal
in the southern part of the city. Could it be possible ?
Were these foreigners taking sides with the North ?
Were these shuffling, heavy, stupid-looking men,
incapable of marching in order, setting out to fight
someone 1 People in the streets looked on amazed
Even the friends of the North could hardly believe
v.s. Q

226 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

their eyes. As for the Southerners who saw the
queer regiments pass, jeers and jokes greeted the
" Hessians," as these Germans were called ; and the
word "Hessian" became from that day a word of
contempt among Southern people in St. Louis.

These troops did not march so much as shuffle along ;
and I can see them now, for never since that time
have I seen troops in any part of the world at all like
them. I was instantly struck by the look of detach-
ment on their faces, the machine-like movements of
their bodies, the long, shuffling, dogged step, and,
somehow, I thought they looked hungry withal, and
perhaps they were, and I received an impression as of
a quick impact of something silently fatal, bewildering,
crushed, ghastly. Were these Germans stoics ? Or
were they what they looked, simply apathetic ? Were
they hiding their feelings under a mask of indifference,
or were they simply human automatons ? Mystery.

CHAPTEE XXI

CAMP JACKSON

WHAT a day for the young bloods of St. Louis !
We stood on Twelfth Street and watched the gathering
of the aristocratic clans, so to speak — the sons of
wealthy Southern families, Secessionists and rebels,
even now, forming in line here, Monday, the sixth of
May, by order of the Governor of the State. Many of
them I knew personally ; some of them were members
of Bible-classes at the different Sunday schools I
attended; and I noticed in particular young Hutchinson,
the son of the rector of Trinity Church.

All the different companies were here, some of them
in handsome uniforms ; but the brilliant appearance
of the Dragoons put every other company in the shade.
Could anything equal this gathering for harmony of
colour, the beauty of youth, aristocratic breeding,
clannish pride, courage, audacity, contempt of the
northern Abolitionist ? Out they marched, in regular
order, headed by military music, to Camp Jackson,
where, by Governor Jackson's command, the " boys "
were to pitch their tents and engage in drill for a
short season. In other words, they were to prepare
to defend the State against any attack of Lincoln's
volunteers. Open secession was freely talked of, and
the Hessians and the Yankees were to be annihilated
at the mere sight of such an imposing array of blood,
colour, and military tactics.

Q 2

228 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

The camp was pitched in Lindell Grove, just outside
the city, a place I knew well as a picnic ground for
Sunday-school gatherings in summer time. Here, all
was forgotten save youthful vanity, impossible ambi-
tions, flirtation ; and life, as it looked in this fashion-
able rendezvous, was something worth living, The
ladies came in hundreds, to see or to be seen, and
every tent was well supplied with all the delicacies of
the season. War, if there was to be a war, would be
a splendid pageant, headed by a military band, and
the members of Company A, the Washington Guards,
the Missouri Guards, the Laclede Guards, and the
others, would only have to show themselves to make
the weak-kneed Hessians and Negro-worshippers turn
and run for their lives.

The greatest national tragedies have always begun
by a comedy. And this comedy went on exactly four
days. On the 9th of May crowds visited the United
States arsenal, in the southern part of the town, where
General Lyon was hastily getting his German regi-
ments in order, and where we met Major Sherman,
who had come down on a Fifth Street car with his two
boys to see what was going on. In his Memoirs
General Sherman says :

" Within the Arsenal wall four regiments of Horse
Guards were drawn up in parallel lines, and I saw
men distributing cartridges to the boxes. I saw
General Lyon running about with his hair in the
wind and his pockets full of papers, wild and irregular ;
but I knew him to be a man of vehement purpose and
determined action. I saw, of course, that it meant
business, but whether for defence or offence I did not
know. The next morning I went up to the railroad

CAMP JACKSON 229

office in Bremen, as usual, and heard at every corner
of the streets that the " Dutch " were moving on
Camp Jackson. People were barricading their houses.
I hurried through my business as quickly as I could
and got back to my house on Locust Street by twelve
o'clock."

By the time Major Sherman got home, General
Lyon, with his Hessians, was at Camp Jackson.

On that morning, the 10th of May, my father, who
had gone out very early, came home with alarming
rumours. Our house, he said, was situated right in
the midst of the danger zone. We were likely to
catch anything flying about in the shape of bullets,
and he had heard that General Lyon was about to
order his five German regiments up from the Arsenal
to Camp Jackson, and in all probability they would
march past our house. The only safe place in our
house — which was a " frame " one — would be in the
basement, the walls there being of brick ; and here we
were ready to go at the first sign of danger. Half an
hour passed, then an hour, and still no sign of any-
thing unusual. Never had the streets seemed more
tranquil. While one member of the family was on
the portico looking down Pine Street, I was on the
watch looking down Ninth Street. All of a sudden,
without so much as the beating of a drum, without
the slightest noise, except for the shuffling of so many
big, heavy feet, General Lyon made his appearance at
the corner of Ninth and Chestnut Streets, just one
block away, riding at the head of a drove of Hessians —
for they seemed like so many cattle to me, with, no
doubt, some wild bulls among them capable of causing
a stampede, no one knew what, all the more menacing

230 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

because so awkward — and, turning the corner, faced
straight up Ninth Street. They would pass our house.
I gave the alarm, and down came every member of
the family into the basement, when the thick outside
shutters were closed for fear of bullets. There was a
wide crack in one of the shutters, and through this I
got a good look at the queerest body of soldiers I ever
saw. On they came, shambling up Ninth Street until
General Lyon came to Pine Street, when, at the
corner of our house, he turned his men up Pine Street
in the direction of Camp Jackson ; and hardly had he
done so when crack ! crack ! went rifle shots, and we
all dipped bodies, squatting in the corners. On they
came, regiment after regiment ; it seemed as if they
would never cease passing. At last, peeping out, I
saw the end of the long, shambling line, dragging its
dogged length off towards the country.

Out flocked the people into Pine Street. Two
bullets had struck our house, and just outside a German
soldier was sitting on the side walk with his back to
the wall. Coming closer we could distinguish where
the Minie* bullet had penetrated his temple. He was
dead. Close by a servant with a pail of water was
washing a stream of blood off the side-walk where
someone had been killed, and the sight to me was
indescribably horrible. My father said this was civil
war. We walked on down Pine Street, and at Seventh
Street we went over into Olive Street, and then, seeing
a crowd, we came to the fruit stand of some Italians.
The dead body of the proprietor had just been carried
in, and loud wails arose from the wife and children,
so suddenly plunged into mourning. All along the
line of march there had been firing, both from the

CAMP JACKSON 231

ranks of the German volunteers and from individual
Rebels ; these latter fired into the ranks of the
soldiers while hidden behind church pillars or from
windows.

Meanwhile, on the Germans trudged to Camp
Jackson, spreading consternation among the people
everywhere en route , while the fashionable throng in
Lindell Grove preened their beautiful feathers, like
so many birds of paradise in a Garden of Eden.

All at once a rider on a swift horse announced the
words, " The Hessians ! The Hessians ! "

Was it, then, nothing but a dream ? Could it be
possible that the Yankee General Lyons, a nobody
from the Government Arsenal, was tramping up the
bend in the road, and in another moment would be
descending towards the Grove, with other troops
arriving exactly on time by another road, hemming in
the whole camp, the gaily-dressed crowd, the sight-
seers !

The streets in town being free of soldiers, we went
up Locust Street, where we saw Major Sherman, with
his son Willie, walking up and down before his house,
talking to the neighbours, and " listening for the
sound of musketry and cannon in the direction of the
Camp."

Major Sherman walked over to Olive Street, beyond
Twelfth, and there saw a man running from Camp
Jackson, shouting as he ran, " They've surrendered !
They've surrendered ! "

With this news Major Sherman went with his son
as fast as he could to the Camp, while I returned with
my father to our house, where developments were
awaited with the greatest anxiety. At the Camp

282 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

Major Sherman and his boy just escaped being killed
by throwing themselves on the ground, and several
men, women, and children lost their lives in a wild
fusillade, owing to the irresponsible actions of a
drunken man who had nothing to do with the soldiers
of either side.

At last we heard the cry, " Here they come ! " The
bitter hour had arrived. From Twelfth Street they
were marching down Pine Street past our house. The
different companies of gay and sanguine young Eebels,
now prisoners of war, came marching down between
files of the hated and despised Hessians on their way
to the Arsenal, right through the heart of the city.
Every window on Pine Street was filled with spectators
— mothers, sisters, wives — for the men were elsewhere.
Imprecations were showered on the " Dutch," hand-
kerchiefs were waved in honour of the prisoners, and
when they passed our house we saw young Hutchinson
among the number.

They put on a bold front ; they were not of the kind
to let an incident like this discourage them ; for, after
all, they proved themselves made of sterner stuff,
and hardly one there but would turn up later in the
Eebel ranks on the bloody fields of Tennessee and
Mississippi.

CHAPTEE XXII

GENERAL FREMONT

IN the summer of 1861 I acted as page to General
Fremont, who had succeeded General Harney as
military commander in St. Louis, and who occupied
Major Brant's new mansion on Chonteau Avenue,
where he had his headquarters. I wore a dark blue
uniform, and my duties consisted in carrying letters,
dispatches, etc., from General Fremont to officers in
other parts of the house. I saw people of all con-
ditions trying in every way to obtain an interview
with the General. One day, on entering the com-
mander's room, I was surprised to see two foreign
officers seated in front of his table. I took them to
be Germans. They wore striking uniforms ; and the
comedy of the whole thing became apparent when
people learnt that General Fremont had invited them
to accompany him home from Europe to give the
officers of his army some idea of military tone
and style. The leading citizens were indignant.
They could not understand such a whim on the
part of a democratic leader at a time when action
and courage meant everything, personal appearance
nothing.

General Sherman, in his Memoirs, says :
" McClellan and Fremont were the two men toward
whom the country looked as the great Union leaders,
and towards them were streaming the newly-raised

234 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

regiments of infantry and cavalry, and batteries of
artillery."

When General Sherman came to St. Louis to see
Fremont on urgent business connected with the war,
Sherman stopped at the Planters' House, and meeting
Mr. K. M. Renick, inquired where he could find
General Fremont. Mr. Renick said: " What do you
want with General Fremont? You don't suppose he
will see such as you ? " Then he explained that
" Fremont was a great potentate, surrounded by
sentries and guards ; that he had a more showy court
than any real king ; that he kept senators, governors,
and the first citizens dancing attendance for days and
weeks before granting an audience," etc.

Callers came by scores, among them several old
scouts and pioneers who had accompanied Fremont on
his Western exploits. I was far more interested in
these men than I was in the General himself, for they
recounted the whole history of Fremont's disastrous
expedition from St. Louis to California in 1848. One
day several of these men appeared, and the oldest asked
to see the General. They were old friends, they said,
and expected to be admitted to his presence without
any trouble ; but they waited a long time, returning
day after day, and for weeks I saw them sauntering
along Fourth Street, hanging about the Planters'
House, where they told stories of their thrilling
adventures among the Indians. I saw much of these
men and others in later years, during my sojourns in
New Mexico, Arizona, and Utah, who had been with
Fremont on his exploring expeditions, and I always
listened with deep interest to all I could hear about
the wild West of the 'forties and 'fifties.

GENEEAL FREMONT 235

Fremont left the Missouri Eiver in October, 1848,
on his fourth expedition to California. He was then
thirty-six years of age. His aim was to make for the
Rio Grande, and from that wild region find a pass
through the Eocky Mountains. The route to the
Pacific Coast had never been explored, and Colonel
Fremont (as he then was) had no aid from the
Government, as in former adventures. He picked
out thirty-three men — hunters, scouts, muleteers, inter-
preters, half-breeds, and some Indians, well tried by
him in his former travels through the deserts and
mountains. He had to pick out and test, before buy-
ing them, a hundred and twenty mules. Then he had
to look to the selection of fire-arms, ammunition,
bacon, corn-meal, coffee, sugar, blankets and buffalo
robes, fur wraps, besides coloured blankets, beads,
and paint as presents to placate the Indians and gain
their friendship. Much was needed before they
reached the Great Divide and the region of snows.
They were making straight for the hunting-grounds
of the man-slaying Apaches and Comanches, the
crafty Kioways, the fierce Utahs and Arapahoes, the
Navahoes, and other tribes roaming the plains and
hills at that particular season.

There were the Sioux and the Omahas, who might
be met with, either on the war-path or on some hunt-
ing expedition.

They followed along up the Kansas Eiver, and soon
began to see signs of that moving life that made the
prairies of the Kansas region the happy hunting-
grounds of the Far "West of those early days.

Colonel Fremont now sent on a small band of scouts
twelve hours in advance of his company. The scouts

286 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

were sent out with the fleetest horses and were on the
lookout for Indians. They came to a place where it
looked as if the country was dotted with sage-brush,
but as they proceeded they discovered buffalo instead
of sage-brush. The animals were moving slowly
down from the north, a wilderness of black forms.

They could not discover through a spy-glass any
end to the herd. At times small, compact groups
grazed together ; then the animals became more
scattered, but there was always an unbroken line
somewhere visible. In an hour's time the herd
became thicker, and they soon began to traverse the
main portion. The earth was now black with buffalo,
and the aspect of the moving animals began to look
dangerous ; the scouts feared a stampede, surrounded
as they were on all sides with savage-looking beasts.
The number was computed at many hundreds of
thousands.

The party moved with caution, not intending to do
any killing till they got to the edge of the herd.
Suddenly a commotion was visible among the animals
where there was a slight rise in the prairie. At that
point they were on the gallop, while a mile or two
away the herd was stampeding. The Indians had
arrived. The scouts stopped and made ready. Two
dangers faced them : the stampede and the savage
Sioux, now galloping their horses alongside of the
finest bison and pouring their arrows into the flying
bulls. No one seemed to know from what direction
the Indians had arrived, but just at that spot there
was a break in the herd which left an open space
through which the Sioux made the attack. They
had, no doubt, been waiting in hiding somewhere

GENERAL FREMONT 237

on the prairie. They were killing for winter supplies,
both for meat and buffalo robes, and at first they
were probably too much concerned with the hunt
to trouble themselves about the white men. Part
of the main herd was making straight for the scouts
while another portion had headed off to the left, and
yet a third broke in an easterly direction, and the
whites were at a loss to find a reason for so curious
a thing among the buffalo, "when to their amazement
they saw what they understood to be a second band
of Indians coming, as it were, out of the ground.
This band separated into two parts, their aim being to
drive the buffalo in a given direction. The scouts
proclaimed them Comanches, as these rode Mexican
mustangs and had the crafty art of creeping along,
hiding behind their animals or low bushes or slight
elevations of the ground and then suddenly making
their presence both seen and felt.

It looked now as if the Indians of both bands and
the stampeding buffalo would sweep down and
surround the scouting party. All they could do was
to wait, all eyes fixed on the manoauvres of the
Indians. The buffalo that had been divided and
scattered by the Comanches, were running helter-
skelter in three divisions, chased by the fleetest and
most cunning of the bands, uttering a quick, sharp
yell. By this time the buffalo everywhere had caught
the panic. All raised their heads and started on the
run, followed by the animals coming down in the
main stream from where the Comanches began the
chase.

A small band of Comanches had now to deal with
two bulls, probably infuriated by arrows. They had

238 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

turned on their pursuers and were charging among
them, and while this was going on, the Sioux had
approached the scouting party on the other side, the
buffalo fleeing before them in another stream. The
time had come for the Indians to stop the chase and
attend to the white men.

The whole scene had taken but a short time, hardly
long enough for anyone to realise fully what was
happening.

The scattered Comanches assembled in one group
for a pow-wow. The Sioux, on their side, had never
scattered, but had come to a stand, leaving a large
number of dead buffalo strewn along the line of chase.
One of the scouts, called Lame- Bear, a renegade
Comanche spy, who knew a little Spanish and some
English, now gave his opinion of the situation by
signs and words as follows : Both bands of Indians
had come out on a hunting expedition as well as for
adventure ; they had met here by chance ; but the
Comanches, still more cunning than the Sioux, when
they discovered the white men, formed a plan to
stampede the buffalo. In the confusion they would
attack the white men, but the superior numbers of the
Sioux caused them to change their plan. Now they
were holding a council of war ; in another moment
the whole thing would be decided ; there would be a
" lifting of scalps."

Lame-Bear had hardly spoken the last word when
the Comanches set out with a great war-whoop
straight for the Sioux, who were sitting as still as
stone images on their horses. The Comanches
swept on like demons, unconscious of their own
inferior numbers.

GENERAL FEEMONT 239

" Look ! " cried Lame-Bear, " the buffaloes ! "
It was a fresh stampede from the north. The
vacant space separating the Comanches and the
Sioux was threatened by this new mass of frightened
animals, coming down in a stream that would pass
right in front of the band of Sioux, driven, no doubt,
by another band farther north. Seeing this, the
intrepid Comanches redoubled their efforts to reach
their rivals, and at the moment the first buffalo
reached the line, a hail of arrows poured from the
two bands and several Comanches fell. In another
second a horse fell under a Sioux, then several
warriors. The space had now become fairly blocked
with buffalo, and, maddened by the smell of blood,
they bellowed and jumped about as they passed close
to the Sioux, who were now forced to desist, while the
Comanches, caught in the stampede, were compelled
to gallop along with the herd to escape destruction.

The scouts began to move on, when the Comanches
veered round to the south at a safe distance from their
guns.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE DANCE OF DEATH

AFTER travelling between four and five hundred
miles out from the Missouri, Fremont's expedition
struck the pow-wow grounds on the Kansas River,
the camping-place where the famous hunter and
scout, old Fitzpatrick, had in charge some thousands
of Indians.

At that time this scout was acting as Government
Indian Agent. His special business was to deal with
the savages in such a manner that they would, at
least for a time, leave the white emigrants unmolested
while on their way across the plains and mountains to
California. Fremont expected to meet here some
hundreds of Indians, mainly chiefs and leading
warriors, instead of which he encountered whole
tribes gathered from the far West, South, and South-
west. He calculated on staying here some little
time to find out all he could, both from the whites
and the Indians, who would give him important
information and all the latest mountain news brought
in from scouts and hunters from the West.

Before the establishment of this agency, hundreds
of emigrants had been murdered and their scalps
taken ; but old Fitzpatrick, as cunning as any Apache,
knew all the weak and strong points of the Indians,
and could pacify them at small cost either to himself
or the Government. He knew the magic power

THE DANCE OF DEATH 241

residing in coloured beads, red and yellow blankets,
paint, and such like trifles, when dealing with them.
Yet, in spite of all this, the Indians were fooling
him.

Whole tribes of sleek, well-fed savages, arrayed in
feathers, brilliant blankets, paint and all the finery
of needlework and fantastic neck and head-gear,
greeted Colonel Fremont's arrival, gazing in grim
silence and weird dignity at the white men, their
mules and their weapons. There were one or two
tribes new to Fremont's scouts. There was old Flying-
Horse, chief of an intrepid band of Southern Apaches,
with a great flight of eagle feathers pointing outward
from the crown of his long head to the nape of his
neck, a stripe of yellow paint running from his fore-
head right down across his nose, across his chin, and
down his breast ; and two Indians of greater import-
ance than any of the chiefs : the much-dreaded Arappa-
Honta, grand enchanter of the Navahoes, and Umbaha-
Tan, a great medicine-man and " weaver of spells" of
the Utahs.

Queer things were brewing.

That same evening Lame-Bear asked one of
Fremont's men to walk out with him where the others
could not hear what he had to say. When they got
beyond the camp Lame-Bear began in a mixture of
Spanish and English : " You see that big Medicine,
TJmbaha-Tan ? He is no friend of Chief Fremont !
I have peeped in his wigwam, and know what he is
doing. He has made a * bad fire ' in there ; to-
morrow he will begin his enchantments."

Here Lame-Bear began to turn round and round
in imitation of someone who was being dazed and

v.s. R

242 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

mentally confused, dizzy in the head, not capable of
clear thinking.

"Is Umbaha-Tan working against one person or
against all our party ? " asked the scout.

" The whole party. All will feel his power."

" How is such a thing possible ? "

"Because the white men don't understand," he
said.

" What will Umbaha-Tan do to-night ? " asked the

BCOUt.

Lame-Bear gave a slight twist of the head, and,
with an expression of weariness, said : " He will
perform the ban-ha-ha," which meant the overture to
the play, or the creation of the atmosphere.

The guide felt that any words or explanations
would be useless, that nothing could change the order
of Fate. He himself had his mind made up, and
knew precisely what to expect.

The moon rose and began to light the plains, and
the camp-fires blazed in the clear, still air ; and while
Fremont's men were smoking and resting the Indians
began to glide about, ghost-like, in the moonlight, by
ones and twos at first, coming and going for the most
part in absolute silence. Some of them were roasting
buffalo, which they did by making a big hole in the
ground and cooking the whole carcass, barbecue
fashion.

Old Fitzpatrick was asked if he did not think the
Indians in the camp were more sullen than usual, but
he only said : "I don't see as they act any different
from the real Simon-pure article " ; and then he went
on : " You know how Natur' turns 'em out, I reckon ;
Natur' manifactures 'em, but she don't finish 'em; when

THE DANCE OP DEATH 243

she manifactures a white man she finishes him. An
Injin is finished when he hez a top-knot, an' he's
polished when he gets his war-paint on; a white
man is polished jest as soon as he gets his face
washed."

Arappa-Honta, the enchanter, was receiving visitors
in his wigwam. He sat cross-legged, on thick
cushions of bear and buffalo skins, bolt upright, his
body quite still, partly wrapped in a robe of wild-
cat skins. The white visitors immediately became
conscious of something wonderful in the influence he
threw about him of length and distance. Everything
about his features was long and thin : long, narrow
head, rising far above his eyebrows; long, narrow
eyes, veiled and absent ; long, thin nose ; long, spare
jaws and chin ; and a neck that might have grown
in a night, like a mushroom-stalk. The marvellous
head was capped with a circle of black feathers, and
from the centre of the crown rose three black
ostrich-feathers, which must have been brought from
St. Louis or Mexico, or stolen from emigrants. His
arms were covered with ornaments, while his face was
made still more extraordinary by being covered with
saffron paint; there was a black streak of paint
running from the top of the forehead, down the nose
to his bosom. These colours meant that he was
getting ready for business ; the days of idle dreaming
were past.

According to Lame-Bear, Arappa-Honta was getting
ready to travel, in spirit.

His body had something of the painted image about
it, so still and motionless.

An Indian, with something of the wild animal in

B 2

244 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

his face, placed on the fire, which was burning in the
middle of the wigwam, some leaves that raised a thick
smoke. Arappa-Honta moved his head a little and
breathed deeply ; then he prepared his pipe, filled it
with some of the leaves and began to smoke. Several
of the Indians did the same, after which the white
visitors left the wigwam. Hearing muffled sounds
coming from the direction of Umbaha-Tan's lodge,
they went towards it. Indians were walking about
outside, listening ; there was not one who did not
know the secret meaning of the deep, drum-like
sounds coming from the weaver's tent. As the
Indians drew nearer they would stop, bow their heads
and listen, the same as if they had been white men
listening to the sound of earth falling on a coffin.
Indians of different tribes came and went, their eyes
glistening like black beads in the bright moonlight ;
they glided past like cats, and listened as if smitten
by some unknown power. They seemed to be
absent from the spot and enjoying something far
away.

Old Fitzpatrick was holding a confab with Colonel
Fremont in the commander's tent, with some other
scouts and guides, and already there were signs of
contradictory evidence and advice concerning the
route to be taken and attempts to be made to find
passes through the Eocky Mountains.

Up to this time Fremont had appeared pretty
confident of his ability to go straight through the
mountains without much loss of mules and with but
little danger to his men ; but now old Fitzpatrick told
one story, while the new arrivals from the West told
another. Fremont refused to take a decision, and said

THE DANCE OF DEATH 245

he would wait a day or two, when fresh news might
arrive that would clear up certain doubtful points.

That night the whites lay awake listening to the low,
drum -like beatings in Umbaha-Tan's wigwam. Once
in a while the unusual notes of a flute-like instrument
could be heard coming from the direction of Arappa-
Honta's wigwam. These sounds only ceased with the
setting of the moon. Lame-Bear said he had a
presentiment of impending disaster, and he could see
the mountains loom like bastions in the blue distance;
bleak, barren, more immovable than the stars, inhos-
pitable as frozen tombs, inviting the last gasp in the
still, frozen air ; and some of the white men felt a
horrible attraction towards the desolate snow-covered
region of the Rockies.

The whole camp, white men and Indians, were up
early and stirring, some busy with one thing, some
with another, while in one of the tents a mail- carrier
from Taos, in New Mexico, was being awakened by
some of the men who had been deputed to watch him
and keep him from what the Indians call the death
sleep. He had ridden for some days and nights,
making a record journey, and had given strict orders
to have his sleep broken after a few hours, as the
Indians considered it fatal for a man in that condition
of fatigue to sleep twelve hours on a stretch. When
he got his eyes wide open he thought he was captured
by Indians and going to be bound to a tree and
tortured, and he began to shout and rave ; but they
finally brought him to by dashes of cold water over
his head and face.

The news he brought gave Fremont no information
that could be used to any advantage.

246 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

Lame-Bear came about noon with the news that the
Indians were getting ready for a great dance. It was
being kept as secret as possible ; but, even if the
secret leaked out, nothing could stop them, as the
dance was to appear like a festival of peace and
goodwill

Early in the afternoon small bands of Indians began
to come in with the spoils of the buffalo hunts, and the
Comanches encountered on the plains arrived with
the scalps of the Sioux slain in the buffalo figlit.
The sight of the fresh scalps, the plentiful supply of
buffalo and antelope meat, the perpetual noise of the
musical instruments of the different medicine-men,
kept the Indians at fever-heat, and for the rest
of the day painted faces became more and more
plentiful.

Huge barbecues for a buffalo-meat feast were in
preparation, and the chiefs became more independent
and haughty in demeanour.

About eleven o'clock that evening the Indians
emerged from their lodges by hundreds, making tracks
for the open prairie south of the camp. At the same
time the sound of Indian drums came from various
parts, increasing in force until the air vibrated with
the queer noises ; and the painted faces and arms of
many of the savages added something demoniacal to
the scene.

When questioned about it, old Fitzpatrick said it
meant a buffalo dance ; others thought it a dance in
honour of the moon ; others, again, declared it was a
dance in honour of Fremont, and this last explanation
was accepted by most of the white men.

Lame-Bear now said that several tribes would hold

THE DANCE OF DEATH 247

dances in unity ; but the leaders would be the Utah
tribe, headed by Umbaha-Tan, and the Southern
Apaches, headed by old Arappa-Honta. All the pre-
parations had been made beforehand, and things went
as by clockwork. Far out on the plains a long row of
nickering lights could be seen. At last the Indians
arrived at the dancing-grounds, carrying small torches
made of pine knots, and gathered in a huge circle,
without noise or confusion, as if each Indian had
rehearsed the scene scores of times, and knew the
exact position to take.

There was a signal ; the whole crowd, to the
number of thousands, squatted on the ground, all
decorated in their best colours, the flaming reds of the
blankets becoming visible in the glow of the torches,
with the bright yellows gleaming among the crowd out
in the clear moonlight. On either side, through the
mass of squatting Indians, there was space enough
for horses and files of dancers to pass. From beyond
the circle, on one side, there came two Indians
mounted on Mexican mustangs, with faces painted in
red stripes, meant to be taken as a symbol of peace to
the whites of the camp, but in reality to deceive.
They walked their horses round the circle once, and
passed out on the other side. Two more appeared,
with faces painted white and red, and made the circuit.
Lame-Bear said it was meant as a warning to all the
Indians of the sort of thing they would witness, and
prepare them for the full display of the medicine-
men's power. These in turn were followed by a
group of four reed-blowers, with bodies half bare and
curiously painted. They were the musical charmers
who would put the crowd in the proper mood. The

248 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

whistles produced a great and solemn change. Faces
became rapt with wondering awe as the group walked
round and round the ring. Other dancers entered,
followed by mounted Indians. A band of twenty
Utahs, disguised as wolves, appeared, and began to
crawl and jump as they slowly passed round. The
wolves snapped and growled as they approached a
figure seated alone on the rim of the charmed circle,
and when they arrived in front of the strange appari-
tion sitting robed in white and black, for it was the
great Medicine, Arappa-Honta, in a new dress,
resembling a demon in the midst of a wild beasts'
inferno, they halted in a line, squatted, and set up a
whimpering and whining which no white man could
imitate. This over, they rose and moved on, limping
in imitation of a wounded man or animal. When
halfway round the ring in strode an Indian of giant
frame encased in a full buffalo skin — horns, hide, and
tail, all complete ; swaying to and fro, he rolled along
till he got in front of the wolves, and then he began
such antics as would defy description, for it seemed
impossible for one man to carry such a weight and
perform such evolutions — such a rising and falling of
the body, such a limbering movement of legs and
head, and when he got as far as Arappa-Honta the
buffalo went on his knees before the great Medicine,
and with a smart toss of the woolly head struck the
ground with one of his horns. He rose from this
posture the moment Arappa-Honta touched the horns
with the tip of a long, slender reed ; but the buffalo
had hardly turned away before he was faced by all
the wolves in a line, moving towards him in perfect
order three steps forward, then one step in retreat,

THE DANCE OF DEATH 249

repeating this again and again till they got to the
centre of the circle, all the animals keeping silent.
By the time the wolves reached the centre the state of
the crowd was such that the noise of a cannon let off
would not have caused an Indian to turn his head or
raise an eyebrow, for with every step forward and
backward it was seen that the charm, whatever it
might be, was working out without a hitch. All who
had eyes could understand for themselves. The
savages sat spellbound, seeing the tide rise and
recede, while the lone buffalo stood, his shaggy head
rolling from side to side, awaiting the inevitable
moment when the wolves would close in and surround
him. On they came, the tension of the spectators
becoming unendurable as the wolves took the last
three steps forward, halting, amidst a chorus of grunts
and growls, under the buffalo's nose ; but on the
instant six Indians on ponies came galloping down
to the circle, and, halting, sent a whirlwind of
arrows at the body of the buffalo. Every arrow
struck where it was aimed ; the beast fell, first on his
knees, then over on his side ; the Indians on horse-
back rode off, and at the same time the twenty wolves
formed in a ring around the prostrate buffalo, moving
in a circle, turning round and round, and by the time
they had all made the circuit a band of stalwart
Indians, encased in the skins of huge grizzlies, erect
on their hind legs, came wobbling and capering in.
All the drums began to beat, the reed-whistles made a
shrill, weird noise, and the big grizzlies, advancing,
erect, towards the immovable Arappa-Honta, the real
dance, the wonderful Indian ball, now began.

As the grizzlies turned their backs on Arappa-Honta

250 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

they faced the wolves, arrayed in a line about fifty
feet away, and at once the grizzlies began to reel
like drunken men, while the wolves suddenly moved
forward a few paces, limping, snarling, and now and
then giving short jumps.

The big grizzlies now began a slow movement
towards the centre, and when about thirty feet apart
both lines halted. One of the wolves and one of the
largest of the grizzlies parted from the ranks, and
stepping forward to within a few feet of each other, a
duel of fantastic figures was set going. With this
signal a troop of thirty warriors in buffalo skins
entered at a brisk trot, and being welcomed by a
chorus of howls and savage grunts by all the animals
in the arena, a mad quadrille was inaugurated in
which all the buffaloes, wolves, and grizzlies joined,
each animal doing his best to escape from contact
with the others, twisting and evading, by frantic
contortions, the wolves, nimble as foxes, passing and
re-passing in and out of the whirling mass.

The actors had in a short time assumed a more
regular form of dancing, and the wolves were now
circulating among the bigger animals in a long ser-
pentine line that entered the crowd at a certain point
and progressed in, out, and around like a wriggling
snake ; and during the time this was going on a
marked change was visible on the faces of the on-
lookers. The Dance of Death had begun. All that
had gone before might be taken as overtures and intro-
ductions. This was the weaving, the maze of
bewilderment, chaos and destruction for the white
man. As the wolves wriggled in and out, the
buffaloes and grizzlies made desperate efforts to avoid

THE DANCE OF DEATH 251

them, but in vain. 'No sooner did they succeed in
avoiding contact with the wolves on one side than
they were touched and pushed on the other by wolves
skipping and dodging back in a double circle. Quicker
and quicker they glided, sometimes on all fours, some-
times standing erect and leaping, for now a buffalo,
after wobbling and staggering and making every effort
to escape contact with the wolves, reeled and sank to
the ground ; a wolf leaped over the body, while
another, following, stood on the prostrate beast,
uttering unearthly yells.

It was the beginning of the end. Buffaloes and
grizzlies, all were reeling together in the maze of
death. Two grizzlies fell, and the same movements
were performed over their bodies. The nearer the
victims came to falling the faster and more furious did
the action become ; it was no longer a question of
avoiding the wolves, but simply a question of when
the tottering grizzlies and buffaloes would fall dead,
while Arappa-Honta sat pointing with his magic reed,
now at this animal, now at that.

Down they dropped, one by one, the sounds of the
victorious wolves becoming louder and more general.
Arappa-Honta rose, and, waving his wand over the
arena, a storm of grunts and fierce howls broke out
from the Indians and the wolves, now dancing a last
ronde over the bodies of the vanquished.

CHAPTEE XXIV

IN THE MAZE

IT was late in November when the expedition
reached the small settlement of Pueblo, on the upper
Arkansas Eiver, among the foot-hills of the Rockies.
Here Fremont took a fresh supply of provisions, and
meeting old Bill Williams, a mountain trapper, he
engaged him as guide.

It was not long before they came to the snow, and
Bill Williams hesitated. He was in doubt as to the
passes; but Fremont forced his way on as though
possessed by a power he could not control. The
difficulties of the position seemed even now more
than Fremont and his party could overcome, and yet
they were only at the beginning. Most of the passes
were packed with snow, and it required ten days to
do what in summer-time would have taken two or
three.

They pressed on. A great fear was bearing down
on some of the men. The guide Williams hesitated
more and more, while Fremont, not daring to show
the slightest sign of discouragement, put on a bold
face. He dared not turn back. They were at the
threshold, so to speak, where they had plenty of time
to contemplate the frozen peaks and passes of desola-
tion, and not a white man, not an Indian, but held
his breath when they came to the awful ravine of
Kio del Norte.

IN THE MAZE 253

They had arrived at what seemed the insur-
mountable barrier. Fremont looked at old Bill
Williams, but not a word was spoken. No one could
speak. What was the use ? How is a man to argue
with a chain of frozen rock thousands of feet high ?

Fremont took Williams aside, but no one knew
what was said during the talk. Williams dared not
admit he had blundered, and Fremont dared not turn
back, and he decided on the desperate attempt to pass
through the snow-packed ravines and dig upward
towards the backbone of the Rockies. All hands were
encouraged to make the attempt, and Fremont talked
to his men like a comrade. He worked as hard as
any, was firm yet kindly in his speech, but fixed on
impossible things. They could see how he was driven
on and on, against reason, against common-sense.
No one had any will except to push forward to the
heights of isolation. Attempt after attempt was
made, the men working like condemned prisoners,
making desperate efforts for freedom and life, against
a hundred odds, against Fate. They might have
battled with the snow to some good purpose, but now
they had arrived at the region of storms ; the wind
blew down from the summits, howled around the
crags and through the ravines. Not a man there had
ever seen such a winter. No sooner did one storm
cease than another set in from the north-east or north-
west. The mules, reduced in flesh and strength,
dropped off one after another, frozen in their tracks.
Still the men worked on as under some fatal spell.

A last attempt was made to reach the watershed.
The almost impossible task of stamping a path in the
snow was accomplished, and animals and men walked

254 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

over this with extreme caution, exposed to the icy
winds, one mule after another falling, never to rise
again. They had reached, by a superhuman effort, the
storm-swept summit where the fierce winds kept the
ground bare of snow, and a little food could be found
for the cattle. Lower down all vegetation was hidden
under snow.

They were now face to face with the first great
calamity of the expedition, and all hope of saving the
mules was at an end. Fremont tried hard to look
cheerful, the guides pretended to be hopeful, but
all felt the first swift touch of death in the most
abandoned part of the "Western wilds ; all began a
secret and silent preparation for the last wrestle with
the grim and lonely conqueror. They were in the
first grip. Fremont mentioned the name of his old
friend and companion in adventure, Kit Carson, and
longed for his counsel ; but Carson was^living in Taos,
far away to the south.

They were now more than twelve thousand feet
above sea level, and all the mules frozen to death.
The first night in the high regions came with a clear
sky and a still atmosphere, with the thermometer
below zero. The stars looked like silver lamps floating
in the air not far above. The howling of hungry
wolves came to the ears of some of the men like
warnings and prophecies of impending calamities, and
kept several of them from sleeping, in spite of the
great fatigue they felt. In the morning one of the
half-breeds swore he had heard the tom-toms of the
medicine-men, and saw Arappa-Honta sitting in his
tent. Others declared they had heard queer sounds,
but the men were not certain whether they were awake

IN THE MAZE 255

or dreaming at the time. The half-breeds became
apprehensive. They considered the expedition as
good as doomed, and called to mind the scenes and
rumours at the great dance.

Fremont now held a solemn counsel with King and
Preuss, two of his right-hand men, and it was decided
they should return to the Eio del Norte without delay.

As soon as they arrived at the Eio del Norte
Fremont called for volunteers to go to the settlements
for mules and provisions to enable the whole of the
party to push on to Taos. He picked out four men,
naming King as their commander, and the order was
to lose no time in sending back provisions to the camp,
as there was just enough food to last fourteen days at
a pinch.

When King left the camp it was like a party of
ghosts walking off in the desolate wastes in search of
a refuge.

The ordeal began from the very moment King and
his small party vanished from sight and left the larger
party on half rations, in weather that was arctic, every
day full of suspense, every hour heavy with fore-
boding. Hardly a night but what one or two of the
men heard, or thought they heard, the beating of tom-
toms, while in dreams they would see repeated certain
movements of the Dance of Death.

The nights became heavier, the days more weary.
On the fifth day after King's departure one of the men
was frozen stiff, and death entered the camp. It
snowed more or less every day.

Fremont was now all but panic-stricken, but he
maintained a stiff upper lip, and after waiting sixteen
days decided to set out for the settlements himself,

256 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

with four new men. He now took it for granted that
King and his party had been killed by the Indians.
Fremont took his old friend, Preuss, with him, a little
food, and their blankets. His intention was to make
for a place on the Red River some miles north of Taos.

" Now men," he said, before starting, " if I am not
back here before your rations are out, or if you don't
hear from me by messenger, strike out for yourselves
and follow my trail."

The party left behind had only three meals for each
man, a little rum, and some sugar.

Fremont was not long away before he struck a fresh
Indian trail. He took this trail, which led in the
direction he wished to go. He marched on, and the
fifth day came across a lone Indian who was taking a
drink from a hole he had made in the ice. The Indian
happened to be the son of a Utah Chief and a friend
of Fremont's. The Indian became a guide to the
party, and furnished them with horses from the tribe
living close by, and the next day they all set off again
on the dreary march.

They had gone about six miles when Fremont
discovered some smoke in a small wood. His courage
rose, for now this must certainly be King and his
party. It was more than three weeks since they had
left the main camp. They hurried towards the spot ;
that smoke looked so comforting, there in that desert
of snow and ice, and it looked as if things would now
take a turn for the better. Fremont and his band
were soon in the wood face to face with three half-
starved men, half-crazed, and so changed he could
scarcely recognise them. They were not able to walk
One of them grinned like a bear at bay. Fremont

IN THE MAZE 257

had hard work to get them to talk, but he kept on just
as one would with Indians or little children. They
had evidently killed a deer, and the bones were lying a
little way from the fire where the men were sitting.

" Eut where's King ? " Fremont asked several
times.

"Well, you see, King ain't here," stammered one
of the men, a little bolder than the others.

" I can see that," replied Fremont ; " I want to
know where he is, if you can tell me."

" Well," the man stammered, " he was here ; that is,
he came here with us day before yesterday."

" Where did he go ? "

" He didn't go no-wheres."

A horrible grin distorted the features of the spokes-
man.

" You see, he give out when we got here; he
starved to death."

A fearful silence settled over the group. Fremont,
with a face as white as the snow, gazed in horror at
the bones and then at the three pitiable survivors.
They had been living off the remains.

By a superhuman effort Fremont managed to take
them a march of one hundred and sixty miles, reaching
the Eed River in ten days.

From the town of Eed Eiver he sent back to the
twenty-two members of the expedition he had left in
the mountains one of his trusty men, Godey, with
forty mules and several Mexicans. This band of
twenty-two men had waited seven days in camp in the
gravest suspense, and then left, going in the direction
taken by Fremont and his party. They were now
wanderers in a land covered with snow, with no game,

v.s. s

258 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

no resources, no hope. They were marching, as it
were, to their own funeral. Already, before aban-
doning the camp, Lame-Bear said he saw Arappa-
Honta in a dream. He said the party was doomed.
Other men were filled with strange presentiments.
Some, reduced to mere skeletons, began to see visions.

They set out under a leaden sky, with a bitter wind
coming down at their back, the whole face of Nature
opposed to any kind of courage or hope, and they were
not surprised when only two miles out of camp Lame-
Bear turned suddenly about, faced the little band, let
his blanket and gun fall, and asked one of the men to
ehoot him. After going about from one to the other
begging to be shot and getting a negative response
Lame-Bear turned, and, walking back to the forsaken
camp, died there all alone. The others pressed on in
a confused maze of thoughts. Death seemed every-
where. It surrounded them, enveloped them, urged
them on, and again urged them to fall down in the
snow and give up. They had only made ten miles
when a man named Jim Wise began to sing and
shout ; he threw up his arms, looked up at the sky
and sank down in the snow. Two Indians, members
of the expedition, wrapped the dead man in his
blanket and covered him with snow.

They pressed on.

The next day, Carver, one of the strongest men, a
hunter known for his prowess, began to see vision |
He stopped the company and began to describe things.
He called to mind some of the strange scenes at the
Indian Agency ; he saw the barbecue where the
buffalo was roasted whole ; he said if the men would
sit down in the snow the Indian cooks would attend

IN THE MAZE 259

with dishes of stewed venison, buffalo tongue, prairie-
chicken, and many other things for a feast.

Carver's hopeless condition had a deadly effect on
some of the men, themselves hovering on the borders
of collapse and delirium, but there was nothing to be
done but wander on, the merest shadows of a once
sturdy band.

The next day Carver walked away into the deep
snows and they saw him no more.

The cold was greater now, although at first it did
not feel so ; and the moon, sinking down behind the
Rockies, in the west, left them in the middle of the
night, with the stars, the snow, and the awful silence,
fearing to sleep. When the morning dawned it
brought a sky as blue as sapphire, a crisp, sharp air, in
which nothing stirred, in which brilliant sunshine,
withering cold, the blue above, and the white pall
covering the earth, wrestled together in mocking
rivalry, all Nature getting ready for the last scene.

They had been marching but a short time when,
right before them there loomed a mirage of churches
and houses, pleasure-grounds, monuments, grave-
yards, shimmering streams, waterfalls glistening in
the sunlight, huge flowers, and white tents pitched on
the shores of beautiful lakes, crowds of people
appearing and disappearing, exactly as in a dream.
Somehow they were gazing at a mirage.

The Indian members of the band broke out in yells
of exultation ; they shouted, threw up their hands,
danced in an ecstasy of joy, for there before them,
they said, lay the happy hunting-grounds of the
spirit-world.

Haler, who was in command of the little party,

s 2

260 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

brought the company to a halt and began a speech to
the men.

" Comrades," he said, " it ain't safe to go on like
this. We've got to break up into small bands and
scatter. . . . We've got to scatter. I don't expect to
survive, but I want to ask you one last favour, don't
shoot me, but wait till I die, then you can have my
body."

No sooner had he ceased speaking than they began
to scatter in small bands, each in a different direction,
hoping to meet a rescue party from Eed River
direction.

It was now only a question of how death would
arrive : by being starved or by being frozen ; and
some of the men did not object to the latter process, as
it was painless and quickly over.

The bands started.

At first it was agreed that as soon as a man gave
out the others should light a fire and leave him, but
soon even this was found impossible. Some were
beginning to get snow blind, others were deranged,
others were distracted by superstitious notions of
disaster whispered about by the Indians ; and all at
once someone called to mind the scene of the wolves,
the buffaloes, and bears in the great dance they had
witnessed, and each man felt himself in a maze.

One of the bands concluded to lie down in the snow
and wait for the first man to die. The Indians in
this party, after a cannibal feast, began to howl
and dance, and the white men, now crazed with
suffering, joined in the ghastly chorus of cries, groans,
yells, and mumbling imprecations. The party assumed
the aspect of a company of demons on the snow, made

IN THE MAZE 261

more ghastly by the powerful moonlight, and the
death dance began over again, this time in its livid
reality. Two of the men were breathing their last,
others were about to fall ; some were describing
circles, curves, in single or double file, stamping,
turning about, jumping up and down, the Indians
jabbering in an unknown dialect, their faces becoming
more and more distorted.

The orgy of death ended the following day with
the arrival of Godey and his Mexicans, who took the
survivors to Taos, where Fremont was waiting at the
house of his old-time comrade, Kit Carson.

Fremont had lost all his mules, the whole of his
outfit, and nearly half his men. Nothing daunted,
however, he went to work, organised a new expedi-
tion, took a more southerly route and reached
California in the spring of 1849 safe and sound.
And I heard an old scout say : " There ain't a bullet
can touch him ! That man's got what they call a
charmed life."

Certainly of all the public men of that time, who
led adventuresome and romantic lives, Fremont was
the most daring and the most original.

The people of California sent him back to Washington
as their Senator.

* * * * *

Many years after my St. Louis experiences I visited
General Fremont at San Jose*, California. We talked
much of the War days, and although an old man, he
seemed like one who had never known trouble or
disappointment, hale and serene. He passed away at
last, peaceably, in his bed, after what seemed indeed
a charmed life.

CHAPTER XXV
GRIERSON'S RAID

ATTACHED to General Grant's army was General
Grierson's brigade, consisting of the Sixth and Seventh
Illinois Cavalry and the Second Iowa Cavalry. These
men and boys, many of whom I had known on the
prairies near the Log-House, were destined to engage
in the most dangerous and thrilling cavalry raid of the
four years' War. Of this raid Grant wrote : " It was
Grierson who first set the example of what might be
done in the interior of the enemy's country without
any base from which to draw supplies " ; and of whom
Sheridan said : " Grierson was the first to teach us how
to handle cavalry successfully."

On the morning of April 17th, 1863,1 General
Grierson set out from the town of La Grange, in
Tennessee, at the head of 1,700 men, camping at night
in the town of Eipley, in the State of Mississippi, after
a ride of thirty miles. The next day a Rebel force
was encountered in the act of destroying the bridge
spanning the Tallahatchie River, and after the Rebels
were put to flight Grierson's men restored the bridge
to its former condition.

Sunday morning, April 19th, brought many and
exciting adventures. Two companies, commanded by
Captain Trafton, made a dash at New Albany and

1 " Grierson's Raid," by J. S. C. Abbott. Harper's Magazine,
February, 1865.

GBIEKSON'S KAID 263

drove the Rebels out of the town, while two more
companies plunged into the woods near by in search
of horses. They soon brought back all they could
lead, and by noon the brigade was again on the march,
heading due south, through the heart of hostile
Mississippi.

On the next day Major Love, of the Second Iowa,
was put in command of sixty men from each regiment
with orders to return to La Grange with the captured
horses. The raiders advanced towards the south, and
camped at night at Clear Springs after a ride of forty
miles during the day. Early the next morning the
march was resumed, and Colonel Hatch was detailed to
break up the railroad near Okeola, but in the perilous
attempt he encountered a large force of Eebels,
received a serious wound, and his small body of troops
were scattered. General Grierson pressed on, and
after a hard ride of forty-five miles camped at a point
eight miles south of Starkville. The news of Grierson's
raid was spreading like wildfire throughout the
State. The raiders came without warning, and when
they left it was without any clue to their plans ;
mystery enshrouded their every movement. As they
proceeded south the danger of their position increased
with every mile, yet General Grierson was determined
to enter Baton Eouge at all costs, regardless of all
obstacles.

And now the telegraph wires had to be cut along
the railroad from Macon. Two men volunteered to
carry out this dangerous project, but in spite of their
already tried bravery their courage failed them at the
last moment. Everyone looked with dismay on a
duty which even these trained veterans dared not

264 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

undertake, and yet the work had to be done. At last
a company of the Seventh Illinois was detailed to
proceed to the work, with Captain Forbes command-
ing. With thirty-five men he left the regiment on a
ride of fifty miles through a country swarming with
Eebels. No one expected to see Captain Forbes and
his company again. They directed their course
straight for the large town of Macon, but they were
forced to turn aside and make for the town of Enter-
prise on the railroad, and as they came in view of the
place they were greeted with the sight of three thou-
sand Rebel soldiers in the process of disembarking
from a train of cars. Here Captain Forbes had a flash
of inspiration. Without a moment's hesitation he rode
forward, bearing a flag of truce, and demanded the
instant surrender of the place to General Grierson, whom
the Eebels supposed to be close in the rear with a for-
midable force. The ruse succeeded. Colonel Goodwin,
the Rebel commander, asked for an hour in which to
consider the proposition. Captain Forbes complied
with this request, and put this hour to the best use
he knew how in a hard gallop toward the Pearl River
with his little band of thirty-five men ; and the three
thousand scared Rebels in the town of Enterprise were
not called on for a more definite reply to the demand
for surrender.

In the meantime the Sixth Illinois and the remainder
of the Seventh had made, during the day of the
19th and the following night, the most extraordinary
march of the whole raid. Coming to the town of
Starkville, they destroyed a large Rebel shoe factory,
committing a large quantity of leather and several
thousand pairs of shoes and hats to the flames. After

GBIEKSON'S EAID 265

this they suddenly found themselves surrounded by
treacherous swamps and swollen creeks. The spring
rains had overflowed every stream. The roads, of
which they were utterly ignorant, were like rivers, in
many places from three to four feet deep, and yet on
they went during the night of the 22nd, jaded
men and jaded beasts, without a guide, without a
signpost to direct them, for delay meant death. As
they approached Pearl Kiver, they met a small party
of Eebel pickets working with superhuman energy,
stripping up the planks of the bridge floor and hurling
them into the waters below. The pickets being dis-
posed of, the raiders pressed on into the night without
a single halt except at the town of Decatur, where
they captured and paroled seventy-five prisoners,
destroyed two warehouses full of commissary stores,
four loads of ammunition, burned the railroad bridges
and trestle work, and captured two trains of cars and
two locomotives.

At sunrise on the 29th General Grierson's band
found themselves on the outskirts of Brookhaven.
Here they burned the dep6t of the New Orleans and
Jackson railroad, their cars and bridges, and paroled
two hundred prisoners. The townspeople were panic-
stricken until they found that all private property
was respected, when they became profuse in their
hospitality and the hope that the Union would soon be
restored.

General Grierson wrote : "I could have brought
away a thousand men with me, men whom I found
hiding in the swamps and the forests, where they had
been hunted like wild beasts by the conscript officers
with bloodhounds."

266 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

At last, covered with dust, haggard, and in rags,
with a wild fire of delight and pride in their eyes, on
May 2nd, they galloped into the streets of Baton
Eouge. The story of their incredible adventures ran
with the echo of their horses' hoofs. The excitement
became indescribable. Nothing like it had been
known during the War. Less than two thousand men
had ridden through the State of Mississippi, encounter-
ing every conceivable danger, every known hardship,
with thousands of Rebels at their heels.

During the last thirty hours of the raid the intrepid
band rode eighty miles, engaged in three skirmishes,
destroyed large quantities of military stores, burned
bridges, swam one river, took forty-two prisoners, and
all without a single halt and without food.

In this raid General Grierson rode eight hundred
miles, with no guides except rude country maps and a
pocket compass, relying the whole of the way on the
country for forage and provisions. The raiders had
cut three railroads, burned nine bridges, destroyed
two locomotives and nearly two hundred cars, broken
up three Rebel camps, captured and paroled one
thousand prisoners, and brought into Baton Rouge
with them twelve hundred captured horses.

For twenty-five years subsequent to the Civil War
General Grierson had to deal with the most savage
Indian tribes on the wild plains along the borders of
Mexico, and he so conciliated their confidence that
from hostile savages they became his friends. After
being made military commander of that vast territory
lying between New Mexico and the Pacific Ocean,
which includes Arizona and Southern California,
General Grierson retired in his old age to Jacksonville,

GKIERSON'S RAID 267

Illinois, in the heart of Lincoln's country, the town
from which he went forth to the Civil War as Colonel
of the Sixth Illinois Cavalry, where he lives a tranquil
life, as if he had never known thirty years' military
service of the most dangerous description.

The last time I saw him was at a reception I gave
in his honour during one of my last sojourns in
America. He was still in active service and came to
the reception accompanied by his military staff.

General Grierson, like General Fremont, seemed to
possess a charmed life. Shot at scores of times, I
believe he never once received a wound, and now, past
the age of eighty, is still in good health.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

ONE of my favourite modes of passing idle time was
on the levee watching the incoming and outgoing
boats. They arrived and departed by scores, for this
was the golden age of adventure in the Mississippi
Valley.

From the slumbering solitude of Minnesota the
mighty stream had drifted for ages before a white
man's canoe was seen upon its surface. Then came
the shriek of iron whistles, the swirl of puffing
machinery, the confusion and clashing of hordes of
adventuresome settlers, ushering in a new era and a
new world.

The departure of a favourite boat during the ante-
bellum days made up a picture for the memory of a
lifetime. Here came hunters and trappers from the
western and northern wilds, men with rifles, pistols,
weapons with blades like butcher-knives, fashionably
dressed planters returning South, men resembling
half-breeds, dark, quick-tempered desperadoes, jovial
comrades, professional gamblers, negroes, mulattos,
octoroons.

Indeed, in the sight of certain persons a Mississippi
steamboat was a puffing nightmare of profanity and
wickedness, while to the reckless adventurer it meant
increased activity, a more expansive feeling of life
and liberty. Freed from the trammels of sheriff and

THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 269

bloodhounds, desperadoes from every State saw in it a
floating paradise of luxury and licence. Once on the
bosom of the great river responsibility and worry
were forgotten, and the still, small imps of the
imagination began to rise with the curling smoke
from the chimney-stacks and the rolling swell from
the paddle-wheels. The steamboat was a world in
itself, unlike anything ever seen or dreamed of — a
floating hotel at whose tables friends and foes,
preachers and infidels, card-sharpers and merchants,
slave-drivers and Abolitionists, planters, politicians,
and cut-throats rubbed shoulders and ate together.
It served as railway, stage-coach, and tavern ; it had
the freedom of the backwoods and the dolce far niente
of the log-cabin, while skilled negro cooks served up
corn-bread that melted in the mouth and caused many
a passenger to compare it with the coarse hominy and
gritty corn-meal of their own rough and primitive
homes. Little wonder that the ordinary traveller
found the Mississippi boat a haven of rest ; that after
such meals, after the French coffee or the Kentucky
whisky, they would sit in armchairs on the deck,
with their feet extended on the railing, their heads
thrown back, and puff wreaths of odorous smoke from
cigars made in Havana, think of things until now
unthinkable, and dream of wonders to come, while the
boat floated down with the current through balmy
airs, over a surface that touched the high-water mark
of two lonely and romantic shores. It was no wonder
that at meal- time danger was a thing that no one
stopped to consider, in spite of the fact that the steam-
boat of those days resembled nothing so much as an
architectural tinder-box, ready to disappear in a

270 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

sudden blaze, sink to the bottom by striking a snag,
or go to pieces by an explosion.

Fashionable pleasure parties came and went from
and to the far South, and on the broad expanse of the
hurricane deck, under the opal lights of Southern
skies, beautiful and gracefully robed Creoles lent to
the aerial promenade something serenely antique and
remote, and as the boat swept majestically past the
shores of Louisiana soft airs, wafted from bowers of
orange blossoms, fanned the faces of a people without
a care, who lived by the day, whose lives seemed a
tranquil and luxurious dream.

Down in the " ladies' cabin," at the end of the
boat, there were evenings when the place resembled
some quaintly designed drawing-room in a fantastic
country house, and on certain occasions there would
be music and dancing.

A steamboat had three separate worlds. There was
the boiler-deck, the nethermost part, what timid minds
might call the inferno, peopled by negro deck-hands,
slaves, and "poor white trash," from which strange,
broken echoes rose and fell, snatches of songs blown
up on the night winds, mingling with the muffled din
of slamming furnace doors, spitting 'scape pipes, and
whirling paddle-wheels. Then came the saloon deck,
peopled by the men of all social grades travelling
" first-class " ; lastly, the exclusive portion set apart
for ladies.

In warm weather a roaring trade was done at the
bar, which glittered with cut-glass, crystal decanters,
silver mirrors, bottles arrayed to attract the eye
and tempt the individual taste; and the " bar-
keeper," ablaze with diamond studs and breast pin,

THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 271

condescended, with cool and deliberate demeanour, to
serve his customers who, at certain moments, stood
around the counter two rows deep. That part of the
saloon near the bar was usually occupied by gamblers
engaged in playing for high stakes, and around the
tables here scenes of wild and tragic excitement were
often enacted.

One day, at the beginning of the war, while standing
on the levee close to the water's edge, I heard some
one shout : " Hello there, Bub ! "

I looked up and saw a tall, angular young man,
wearing the uniform of the Union Volunteers. He
was looking down at me from the deck of the City of
Alton, where he stood with other volunteers in blue.

" What are you doing here ? " he shouted.

I looked hard at him for some moments before I
recognised a young man I had known in Alton, and
hardly had I done so when a man standing beside him
shouted: "Say, Bub, don't you want to come along
with us ? "

To my great astonishment, it was Azariah James,
who was also a volunteer. The preacher from the
prairies and his companions in arms were about to
enter the strife ; talk and preaching were to be put
aside for action.

The boat was crowded with soldiers, young men
from the country round about the Log- House and the
district about Jacksonville. There must have been,
at that moment, on the City of Alton, a dozen men
and boys I had known in IlHnois. Here they
were, coming down in boatloads from the prairies,
from the cornfields, from the meeting-houses, from
the backwoods. In three months' time all these

272 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

meek-mannered, awkward young men would be turned
into weather-beaten soldiers, and in the short space of
six months into hard and toughened fighters. Things
had changed, and things would change again, as in a
night, and to many on this boat, and other boats here
on the levee, life would soon cease to pass as in a
pleasant dream and would become a long nightmare
of dangers and terrors inconceivable.

In the winter of 1862 a great fleet of steamboats
set out from St. Louis to Memphis, Tennessee, to
co-operate in General Grant's surprise movement
against Vicksburg, the Kebel stronghold on the
Mississippi. I stood for hours gazing in admiration
at the different boats under Government orders to
proceed to the South. There was the beautiful Die
Vernon, destined to embark the Third Kentucky
Regiment at Memphis; there was the DCS Arc,
wrapped, as it seemed to me, in an aura of glory, for the
officers and escort of General Smith's First Division ;
there was the City of Alton for two Ohio Regiments ;
the trim, light-going Hiaivatha ; the Spread Eagle,
skimming the water like a bird, loaded with the One
Hundred and Twenty-seventh Illinois ; the Sucker State,
with her characteristic smoke-stacks, suggesting to me
the wilderness and prairie ; there was the stately Dakota,
slightly battered about the paddle-box ; the powerful
City of Memphis, whose very name called up delightful
souvenirs of the sunny South, embarking two batteries
of Missouri Artillery and the Eighth Regiment, with a
section of Parrott guns; and the Omaha, the Sioux
City, the Indiana ; the handsome Westmoreland, for
Colonel Stuart's Fifty-fifth Illinois from Benton Bar-
racks ; the Adriatic, the Gladiator, the Isabella, the

THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 273

Polar Star, superb among the galaxy of river meteors ;
and twenty-five more of like build and swiftness.

What a change had come over the river ! No more
pleasure trips, no more going and coming for the mere
love of travel and change. Most of these boats had
been, and would be again, loaded with soldiers sound
in wind and limb going down stream to the front,
returning with wounded or fever-stricken invalids, or
whole troops of Rebel prisoners. The ladies' cabin,
the hurricane deck, the boiler deck, saloon, all were
full of soldiers ; nobody thought of distinctions, there
were no vacant spots, and the pilot-house perched on
the Texas rose clear and white from a sea of soldiers,
like a great bird's nest at the top of a forest of animate
trunks, and the steps, the railings, the promenade, the
rim all round the skylights of the roof, were dotted
and hung with men in blue uniforms, standing, sitting,
lolling, lying down, a knapsack for pillow, chewing
tobacco or eating oranges, gazing at the people below,
some joking callously, some with pensive faces, home-
sick already, others in the throes of unconquerable
agitation, others longing for the fray, while towering
smoke-stacks belched forth rolling pillars of black
smoke that spread in trailing clouds far over the
water.

The river front was the centre of bustle, noise, and
excitement. If the town itself seemed asleep, the
long, wide, sloping levee was all life, with hundreds
of drays, mules, negroes, deck-hands, some of them
idle, but many more working as they had never worked,
shouting, cursing, the hoarse voices of mates rising
above the general din and arriving across the cobble
stones like the ravings of men in delirium, while the

v.s. T

274 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

soldiers on the steamboats contemplated the movement
and uproar going on before them with the mien of so
many statues in blue. Groups of idle negroes looked
on bewildered, expressing the opinions of whites,
picked up here and there. Some of them were free
men and they could do as they pleased.

" Ketch me on one o' dem boats ! " remarked a
burly black ; " I done bin down dar an' I know w'at
dey gwine do. Dey ain't gwine down dar fer te 'joy
deyself lak at a pic-nic ; dey gwine down te Kaintuck
an' Vicksburg te play de 'possum an' de coon. Mistah
'Possum he done absquatulate hissef in a big hole by
de ribber-bank, an' by-an'-by 'long come Mistah Coon
fum St. Louis on one er dem boats, an' he invite de
'possum out, but de 'possum he say (No, sah!' he declah
he gwine ter stay right whar he am. De coon 'monstrat r
wid de 'possum but de 'possum run roun' by de back
do', come up ober de bank an' 'gin te let fly at Mist'
Coon settin' dar on de boat in de cool ob de ebenin'.
Dat make de coon ask hissef whar all de bumble-bees
an' yaller hornets come from — ziz, ziz, boom, whiz!
it gittin' stingin' hot on Mistah Coon's boat ; de bullets
dey fallin' lak hail, one man drop, den nudder, an'
nudder ; Mist' Coon 'low dar ain't no time fer te tarry,
he ring de bell fer de pilot, he ring de bell fer de
engineer, he shout fer de fust mate, de mate 'gin te
cuss an' howl — de boat let loose fum de levee. No, sah!
it ain't good fer de coon's health te come 'sturbin' de
'possum in his hole down dar ; dis niggah gwine stay
right whar he am."

The spring of 1863 was a period of grave suspense
in St. Louis. Would Grant succeed in taking
Vicksburg ?

THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 275

On the night of April 16th, a long line of dark
objects could be distinguished bearing down stream
toward the redoubtable Eebel batteries of Vicksburg.
Admiral Porter headed the line in the gunboat Benton,
followed by the Tuscumbia, so far beneath the surface
that her black iron sides were almost invisible ; then,
a little to the right of the ironclad fleet, and hugging
the opposite shore as much as safety would permit,
came the steamboats with ten huge barges in tow
laden with corn, freight, and provisions. Would they
succeed in running the batteries in the dark ? Would
the crew of the steamboats stick to their posts ?
Never, even to the eyes of the most hardened pilot,
had the moving gulf of water appeared so menacing,
so black, so hungry for victims. The mighty stream,
as the fleet approached Vicksburg, never seemed so
wrapped in silence as now, owing to the stillness of
the crews and the absence of all unnecessary noise.
All was going well. The Benton was now opposite
the Forts. All at once an awful sound smote the ears
of the men on the boats. The Eebel batteries had
opened fire. A thunderous roar went up from the
Benton , whose guns were all ready and only waiting
for such a signal. The time had arrived for the test-
ing of nerves, the trial of courage, the last ordeal of
shock and terror.

The batteries of the Fort are now belching forth shot
that tear across the ironclads with deadly impact, skim-
ming along the surface with a sickening splash so near
as to make death fairly palpable. The Benton has
escaped ; she is now beyond the fire range ; but here
comes the ironclad Tuscumbia, now, in her turn, within
the range of fire. The steamboat Forest Queen is

276 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

there, too, trying to pass with, the Tuscumbia as
an escort. Something bursts just above the surface
of the water, driving steel splinters and bits of iron
in every direction. It is the first bomb from the
Eebel mortars. One of the steam pipes of the Forest
Queen is gone ; a moment more, and a ball rips
through the hull ; quick, the Tuscumbia takes the
damaged boat in tow, and with all steam on, heads
for the bank. The air is streaked with whirling
flashes from the Vicksburg mortars, bombs burst in
mid- air, they descend in a hail of sparks and fire, they
burst in the water, on the decks, around the pilot-
houses; ears are deafened with the roar of Parrott
guns, it is impossible to hear the officers' commands ;
the steamboats rush past with all haste, for a new
terror has come. The river is becoming a living
inferno. Light is spreading over the town of Vicks-
burg, where houses are on fire, houses are ablaze on
the opposite shore ; waves of light rise and fall, and
rise again in different places ; a cloud of sparks are
shooting up from the steamboat Henry Clay in mid-
stream ; the black waters of the Mississippi begin to
shimmer with a ghastly glow, the flames lap the boat
with magical swiftness ; the river is bathed in an awful
yellow light, through which the bursting shells
descend in arches of fire, disclosing the crew of the
Henry Clay making frantic efforts to escape from
the burning hulk. Men are going to the bottom ;
her pilot, who is floating on a piece of wreck, is
picked up by General Sherman, who is there with
a yawl, while hard by the lucky Silver Wave skims
along out of the danger zone, escaping with a mere
scratch.

THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 277

On the Henry Clay were two boys whom I knew in
Alton, and in the yawl with Sherman was Azariah
James and another volunteer we had known in Illinois.

On the 4th of July Yicksburg capitulated, and the
Mississippi became once more free to navigation.

In this same month I went on a visit to the family
of the Eeverend Samuel Smith, a Presbyterian minister
at Alton, and there, on the second day after my arrival,
as I was roaming about the levee, I saw a steamboat
arrive and a score of passengers come ashore. Among
them was a man who was hardly able to walk and who
stopped to look about him as if in search of someone.
In a few moments a woman came running down to
meet him. The man was Elihu Gest, the Load-
Bearer, so changed by illness that at first I did not
know him. He had been at the front with an
ambulance corps, and, later, acting as nurse in the
Overton Military Hospital at Memphis. He was now
" invalided home/' and his wife had come to meet him
with a covered wagon.

When I returned to St. Louis I found my father
getting ready to move with the family to Niagara
Falls. We left Missouri in August, and arrived at
the celebrated watering-place at the height of a
brilliant season, with all the great hotels full, with
balls two or three times a week at the Cataract House
and the International Hotel, so far removed from the
War that it seemed as if such a thing was not known.
And yet, even here, on the borders of Canada, there
was hardly a home that did not have a friend or a
relative at the front.

For me, at least, the change from the hot city on
the Mississippi to the cool breezes wafted up from the

278 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS

Rapids and the surging cataract was almost too good
to be true ; and for more than a year, during our stay
in that wonderful spot, I wandered about free at all
hours, enjoying to the full this new revelation of the
beauty of Nature.

So goes the world, for " Time and the hour runs
through the roughest day."

Tin. K\i>.

BRADBl'RT, A(.M\ . A Ott II.. I.OXUON AM- TONBRIMK

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