CHAPTER III.
GABRIEL.
It was found the next morning that the party was diminished by five.Philip Ashley and Grace Conroy, Peter Dumphy and Mrs. Brackett, weremissing; Dr. Paul Devarges was dead. The death of the old man caused butlittle excitement and no sorrow; the absconding of the others wasattributed to some information which they had selfishly withheld fromthe remaining ones, and produced a spasm of impotent rage. In fiveminutes their fury knew no bounds. The lives and property of thefugitives were instantly declared forfeit. Steps were taken--abouttwenty, I think--in the direction of their flight, but finallyabandoned.
Only one person knew that Philip and Grace had gone together--GabrielConroy. On awakening early that morning he had found pinned to hisblanket a paper with these words in pencil--
"God bless dear brother and sister, and keep them until Philip and Icome back with help."
With it were a few scraps of provisions, evidently saved by Grace fromher scant rations, and left as a parting gift. These Gabriel instantlyturned into the common stock. Then he began to comfort the child. Addedto his natural hopefulness, he had a sympathetic instinct with the painsand penalties of childhood, not so much a quality of his intellect asof his nature. He had all the physical adaptabilities of a nurse--alarge, tender touch, a low persuasive voice, pliant yet unhesitatinglimbs, and broad, well-cushioned surfaces. During the weary journeywomen had instinctively entrusted babies to his charge; most of the deadhad died in his arms; all forms and conditions of helplessness hadavailed themselves of his easy capacity. No one thought of thanking him.I do not think he ever expected it; he always appeared morallyirresponsible and quite unconscious of his own importance, and, as isfrequent in such cases, there was a tendency to accept his services athis own valuation. Nay more, there was a slight consciousness ofsuperiority in those who thus gave him an opportunity of exhibiting hisspecial faculty.
"Olly," he said, after an airy preliminary toss, "would ye like to havea nice dolly?"
Olly opened her wide hungry eyes in hopeful anticipation and noddedassent.
"A nice dolly, with real mamma," he continued, "who plays with it like atrue baby. Would ye like to help her play with it?"
The idea of a joint partnership of this kind evidently pleased Olly byits novelty.
"Well then, brother Gabe will get you one. But Gracie will have to goaway, so that the doll's mamma kin come."
Olly at first resented this, but eventually succumbed to novelty, afterthe fashion of her sex, starving or otherwise. Yet she prudently asked--
"Is it ever hungry?"
"It is never hungry," replied Gabriel, confidently.
"Oh!" said Olly, with an air of relief.
Then Gabriel, the cunning, sought Mrs. Dumphy, the mentally alienated.
"You are jest killin' of yourself with the tendin' o' that child," hesaid, after bestowing a caress on the blanket and slightly pinching animaginary cheek of the effigy. "It would be likelier and stronger fur aplaymate. Good gracious! how thin it is gettin'. A change will do itgood; fetch it to Olly, and let her help you to tend ituntil--until--to-morrow." To-morrow was the extreme limit of Mrs.Dumphy's future.
So Mrs. Dumphy and her effigy were installed in Gracie's place, and Ollywas made happy. A finer nature or a more active imagination thanGabriel's would have revolted at this monstrous combination; but Gabrielonly saw that they appeared contented, and the first pressing difficultyof Gracie's absence was overcome. So alternately they took care of theeffigy, the child simulating the cares of the future and losing thepresent in them, the mother living in the memories of the past. Perhapsit might have been pathetic to have seen Olly and Mrs. Dumphy bothsaving the infinitesimal remnants of their provisions for the doll, butthe only spectator was one of the actors, Gabriel, who lent himself tothe deception; and pathos, to be effective, must be viewed from theoutside.
At noon that day the hysterical young man, Gabriel's cousin, died.Gabriel went over to the other hut and endeavoured to cheer thesurvivors. He succeeded in infecting them so far with his hopefulness asto loosen the tongue and imagination of the story-teller, but at fouro'clock the body had not yet been buried. It was evening, and the threewere sitting over the embers, when a singular change came over Mrs.Dumphy. The effigy suddenly slipped from her hands, and looking up,Gabriel perceived that her arms had dropped to her side, and that hereyes were fixed on vacancy. He spoke to her, but she made no sign norresponse of any kind. He touched her and found her limbs rigid andmotionless. Olly began to cry.
The sound seemed to agitate Mrs. Dumphy. Without moving a limb, shesaid, in a changed, unnatural voice, "Hark!"
Olly choked her sobs at a sign from Gabriel.
"They're coming!" said Mrs. Dumphy.
"Which?" said Gabriel.
"The relief party."
"Where?"
"Far, far away. They're jest setting out. I see 'em--a dozen men withpack horses and provisions. The leader is an American--the others arestrangers. They're coming--but far, oh, so far away!"
Gabriel fixed his eyes upon her, but did not speak. After a death-likepause, she went on--
"The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the grass is springing wherethey ride--but, oh, so far--too far away!"
"Do you know them?" asked Gabriel.
"No."
"Do they know us?"
"No."
"Why do they come, and how do they know where we are?" asked Gabriel.
"Their leader has seen us."
"Where?"
"In a dream."[A]
[Footnote A: I fear I must task the incredulous reader's furtherpatience by calling attention to what may perhaps prove the most literaland thoroughly-attested fact of this otherwise fanciful chronicle. Thecondition and situation of the ill-famed "Donner Party"--then anunknown, unheralded cavalcade of emigrants--starving in an unfrequentedpass of the Sierras, was first made known to Captain Yount of Napa, _ina dream_. The Spanish records of California show that the relief partywhich succoured the survivors was projected upon this _spiritual_information.]
Gabriel whistled and looked at the rag baby. He was willing torecognise something abnormal, and perhaps even prophetic, in this insanewoman; but a coincident exaltation in a stranger who was not sufferingfrom the illusions produced by starvation was beyond his credulity.Nevertheless, the instincts of good humour and hopefulness werestronger, and he presently asked--
"How will they come?"
"Up through a beautiful valley and a broad shining river. Then they willcross a mountain until they come to another beautiful valley with steepsides, and a rushing river that runs so near us that I can almost hearit now. Don't you see it? It is just beyond the snow peak there; a greenvalley, with the rain falling upon it. Look! it is there."
She pointed directly north, toward the region of inhospitable snow.
"Could you get to it?" asked the practical Gabriel.
"No."
"Why not?"
"I must wait here for my baby. She is coming for us. She will find mehere."
"When?"
"To-morrow."
It was the last time that she uttered that well-worn sentence; for itwas only a little past midnight that her baby came to her--came to herwith a sudden light, that might have been invisible to Gabriel, but thatit was reflected in her own lack-lustre eyes--came to this poorhalf-witted creature with such distinctness that she half rose,stretched out her thin yearning arms, and received it--a corpse! Gabrielplaced the effigy in her arms and folded them over it. Then he ranswiftly to the other hut. For some unexplained reason he did not getfurther than the door. What he saw there he has never told; but when hegroped his fainting way back to his own hut again, his face was whiteand bloodless, and his eyes wild and staring. Only one impulseremained--to fly for ever from the cursed spot. He stopped only longenough to snatch up the sobbing and frightened Olly, and then, with aloud cry to God to help him--to help _them_--he dashed out, and was lostin the darkness.