XVI. THE GAME AND THE NATION--LAST ACT
It has happened to you, has it not, to wake in the morning and wonderfor a while where on earth you are? Thus I came half to life in thecaboose, hearing voices, but not the actual words at first.
But presently, "Hathaway!" said some one more clearly. "Portland 1291!"
This made no special stir in my intelligence, and I drowsed off againto the pleasant rhythm of the wheels. The little shock of stopping nextbrought me to, somewhat, with the voices still round me; and when wewere again in motion, I heard: "Rosebud! Portland 1279!" These figuresjarred me awake, and I said, "It was 1291 before," and sat up in myblankets.
The greeting they vouchsafed and the sight of them clusteringexpressionless in the caboose brought last evening's uncomfortablememory back to me. Our next stop revealed how things were going to-day.
"Forsythe," one of them read on the station. "Portland 1266."
They were counting the lessening distance westward. This was theundercurrent of war. It broke on me as I procured fresh water atForsythe and made some toilet in their stolid presence. We were drawingnearer the Rawhide station--the point, I mean, where you left therailway for the new mines. Now Rawhide station lay this side ofBillings. The broad path of desertion would open ready for their feetwhen the narrow path to duty and Sunk Creek was still some fifty milesmore to wait. Here was Trampas's great strength; he need make no movemeanwhile, but lie low for the immediate temptation to front and waylaythem and win his battle over the deputy foreman. But the Virginianseemed to find nothing save enjoyment in this sunny September morning,and ate his breakfast at Forsythe serenely.
That meal done and that station gone, our caboose took up again its easytrundle by the banks of the Yellowstone. The mutineers sat for a whiledigesting in idleness.
"What's your scar?" inquired one at length inspecting casually the neckof his neighbor.
"Foolishness," the other answered.
"Yourn?"
"Mine."
"Well, I don't know but I prefer to have myself to thank for a thing,"said the first.
"I was displaying myself," continued the second. "One day last summer itwas. We come on a big snake by Torrey Creek corral. The boys got bettingpretty lively that I dassent make my word good as to dealing with him,so I loped my cayuse full tilt by Mr. Snake, and swung down and catchedhim up by the tail from the ground, and cracked him same as a whip, andsnapped his head off. You've saw it done?" he said to the audience.
The audience nodded wearily.
"But the loose head flew agin me, and the fangs caught. I was prettysick for a while."
"It don't pay to be clumsy," said the first man. "If you'd snapped thesnake away from yu' instead of toward yu', its head would have whirledoff into the brush, same as they do with me."
"How like a knife-cut your scar looks!" said I.
"Don't it?" said the snake-snapper. "There's many that gets fooled byit."
"An antelope knows a snake is his enemy," said another to me. "Ever seena buck circling round and round a rattler?"
"I have always wanted to see that," said I, heartily. For this I knew tobe a respectable piece of truth.
"It's worth seeing," the man went on. "After the buck gets close in, hegives an almighty jump up in the air, and down comes his four hoofs ina bunch right on top of Mr. Snake. Cuts him all to hash. Now you tell mehow the buck knows that."
Of course I could not tell him. And again we sat in silence for awhile--friendlier silence, I thought.
"A skunk'll kill yu' worse than a snake bite," said another, presently."No, I don't mean that way," he added. For I had smiled. "There is abrown skunk down in Arkansaw. Kind of prairie-dog brown. Littler thanour variety, he is. And he is mad the whole year round, same as a doggets. Only the dog has a spell and dies but this here Arkansaw skunkis mad right along, and it don't seem to interfere with his business inother respects. Well, suppose you're camping out, and suppose it's a hotnight, or you're in a hurry, and you've made camp late, or anyway youhaven't got inside any tent, but you have just bedded down in the open.Skunk comes travelling along and walks on your blankets. You're warm. Helikes that, same as a cat does. And he tramps with pleasure and comfort,same as a cat. And you move. You get bit, that's all. And you die ofhydrophobia. Ask anybody."
"Most extraordinary!" said I. "But did you ever see a person die fromthis?"
"No, sir. Never happened to. My cousin at Bald Knob did."
"Died?"
"No, sir. Saw a man."
"But how do you know they're not sick skunks?"
"No, sir! They're well skunks. Well as anything. You'll not meet skunksin any state of the Union more robust than them in Arkansaw. And thick."
"That's awful true," sighed another. "I have buried hundreds of dollars'worth of clothes in Arkansaw."
"Why didn't yu' travel in a sponge bag?" inquired Scipio. And thisbrought a slight silence.
"Speakin' of bites," spoke up a new man, "how's that?" He held up histhumb.
"My!" breathed Scipio. "Must have been a lion."
The man wore a wounded look. "I was huntin' owl eggs for a botanist fromBoston," he explained to me.
"Chiropodist, weren't he?" said Scipio. "Or maybe a sonnabulator?"
"No, honest," protested the man with the thumb; so that I was sorry forhim, and begged him to go on.
"I'll listen to you," I assured him. And I wondered why this politenessof mine should throw one or two of them into stifled mirth. Scipio, onthe other hand, gave me a disgusted look and sat back sullenly for amoment, and then took himself out on the platform, where the Virginianwas lounging.
"The young feller wore knee-pants and ever so thick spectacles with ahalf-moon cut in 'em," resumed the narrator, "and he carried a tin boxstrung to a strap I took for his lunch till it flew open on him and ahorn toad hustled out. Then I was sure he was a botanist--or whateveryu' say they're called. Well, he would have owl eggs--them littleprairie-owl that some claim can turn their head clean around andkeep a-watchin' yu', only that's nonsense. We was ridin' through thatprairie-dog town, used to be on the flat just after yu' crossed thesouth fork of Powder River on the Buffalo trail, and I said I'd dig anowl nest out for him if he was willing to camp till I'd dug it. I wantedto know about them owls some myself--if they did live with the dogs andsnakes, yu' know," he broke off, appealing to me.
"Oh, yes," I told him eagerly.
"So while the botanist went glarin' around the town with his glasses tosee if he could spot a prairie-dog and an owl usin' the same hole, I wasdiggin' in a hole I'd seen an owl run down. And that's what I got." Heheld up his thumb again.
"The snake!" I exclaimed.
"Yes, sir. Mr. Rattler was keepin' house that day. Took me right there.I hauled him out of the hole hangin' to me. Eight rattles."
"Eight!" said I. "A big one."
"Yes, sir. Thought I was dead. But the woman--"
"The woman?" said I.
"Yes, woman. Didn't I tell yu' the botanist had his wife along? Well, hedid. And she acted better than the man, for he was losin' his head,and shoutin' he had no whiskey, and he didn't guess his knife was sharpenough to amputate my thumb, and none of us chewed, and the doctorwas twenty miles away, and if he had only remembered to bring hisammonia--well, he was screeching out 'most everything he knew in theworld, and without arranging it any, neither. But she just clawed hispocket and burrowed and kep' yelling, 'Give him the stone, Augustus!'And she whipped out one of them Injun medicine-stones,--first one I everseen,--and she clapped it on to my thumb, and it started in right away."
"What did it do?" said I.
"Sucked. Like blotting-paper does. Soft and funny it was, and gray. Theyget 'em from elks' stomachs, yu' know. And when it had sucked the poisonout of the wound, off it falls of my thumb by itself! And I thanked thewoman for saving my life that capable and keeping her head that cool.I never knowed how excited she had been till afterward. She was awfulshocked."
"I suppose she started t
o talk when the danger was over," said I, withdeep silence around me.
"No; she didn't say nothing to me. But when her next child was born, ithad eight rattles."
Din now rose wild in the caboose. They rocked together. The enthusiastbeat his knee tumultuously. And I joined them. Who could help it? Ithad been so well conducted from the imperceptible beginning. Fact andfalsehood blended with such perfect art. And this last, an effect sonew made with such world-old material! I cared nothing that I wasthe victim, and I joined them; but ceased, feeling suddenly somehowestranged or chilled. It was in their laughter. The loudness was tooloud. And I caught the eyes of Trampas fixed upon the Virginian withexultant malevolence. Scipio's disgusted glance was upon me from thedoor.
Dazed by these signs, I went out on the platform to get away from thenoise. There the Virginian said to me: "Cheer up! You'll not be so easyfor 'em that-a-way next season."
He said no more; and with his legs dangled over the railing, appeared toresume his newspaper.
"What's the matter?" said I to Scipio.
"Oh, I don't mind if he don't," Scipio answered. "Couldn't yu' see? Itried to head 'em off from yu' all I knew, but yu' just ran in among 'emyourself. Couldn't yu' see? Kep' hinderin' and spoilin' me with askin'those urgent questions of yourn--why, I had to let yu' go your way! Why,that wasn't the ordinary play with the ordinary tenderfoot they treatedyou to! You ain't a common tenderfoot this trip. You're the foreman'sfriend. They've hit him through you. That's the way they count it. It'smade them encouraged. Can't yu' see?"
Scipio stated it plainly. And as we ran by the next station, "Howard!"they harshly yelled. "Portland 1256!"
We had been passing gangs of workmen on the track. And at that last yellthe Virginian rose. "I reckon I'll join the meeting again," he said."This filling and repairing looks like the washout might have beentrue."
"Washout?" said Scipio.
"Big Horn bridge, they say--four days ago."
"Then I wish it came this side Rawhide station."
"Do yu'?" drawled the Virginian. And smiling at Scipio, he lounged inthrough the open door.
"He beats me," said Scipio, shaking his head. "His trail is turrublehard to anticipate."
We listened.
"Work bein' done on the road, I see," the Virginian was saying, veryfriendly and conversational.
"We see it too," said the voice of Trampas.
"Seem to be easin' their grades some."
"Roads do."
"Cheaper to build 'em the way they want 'em at the start, a man wouldthink," suggested the Virginian, most friendly. "There go some moreI-talians."
"They're Chinese," said Trampas.
"That's so," acknowledged the Virginian, with a laugh.
"What's he monkeyin' at now?" muttered Scipio.
"Without cheap foreigners they couldn't afford all this hyeh newgradin'," the Southerner continued.
"Grading! Can't you tell when a flood's been eating the banks?"
"Why, yes," said the Virginian, sweet as honey. "But 'ain't yu' heardof the improvements west of Big Timber, all the way to Missoula, thisseason? I'm talkin' about them."
"Oh! Talking about them. Yes, I've heard."
"Good money-savin' scheme, ain't it?" said the Virginian. "Lettin' afreight run down one hill an' up the next as far as she'll go withoutsteam, an' shavin' the hill down to that point." Now this was an honestengineering fact. "Better'n settin' dudes squintin' through telescopesand cypherin' over one per cent reductions," the Southerner commented.
"It's common sense," assented Trampas. "Have you heard the new schemeabout the water-tanks?"
"I ain't right certain," said the Southerner.
"I must watch this," said Scipio, "or I shall bust." He went in, and sodid I.
They were all sitting over this discussion of the Northern Pacific'srecent policy as to betterments, as though they were the board ofdirectors. Pins could have dropped. Only nobody would have cared to heara pin.
"They used to put all their tanks at the bottom of their grades," saidTrampas.
"Why, yu' get the water easier at the bottom."
"You can pump it to the top, though," said Trampas, growing superior."And it's cheaper."
"That gets me," said the Virginian, interested.
"Trains after watering can start down hill now and get the benefit ofthe gravity. It'll cut down operating expenses a heap."
"That's cert'nly common sense!" exclaimed the Virginian, absorbed. "Butain't it kind o' tardy?"
"Live and learn. So they gained speed, too. High speed on half the coalthis season, until the accident."
"Accident!" said the Virginian, instantly.
"Yellowstone Limited. Man fired at engine driver. Train was flying pastthat quick the bullet broke every window and killed a passenger on theback platform. You've been running too much with aristocrats," finishedTrampas, and turned on his heel.
"Haw, hew!" began the enthusiast, but his neighbor gripped him tosilence. This was a triumph too serious for noise. Not a mutineer moved;and I felt cold.
"Trampas," said the Virginian, "I thought yu'd be afeared to try it onme."
Trampas whirled round. His hand was at his belt. "Afraid!" he sneered.
"Shorty!" said Scipio, sternly, and leaping upon that youth, took hishalf-drawn pistol from him.
"I'm obliged to yu'," said the Virginian to Scipio. Trampas's hand lefthis belt. He threw a slight, easy look at his men, and keeping his backto the Virginian, walked out on the platform and sat on the chair wherethe Virginian had sat so much.
"Don't you comprehend," said the Virginian to Shorty, amiably, "thatthis hyeh question has been discussed peaceable by civilized citizens?Now you sit down and be good, and Mr. Le Moyne will return your gun whenwe're across that broken bridge, if they have got it fixed for heavytrains yet."
"This train will be lighter when it gets to that bridge," spoke Trampas,out on his chair.
"Why, that's true, too!" said the Virginian. "Maybe none of us arecrossin' that Big Horn bridge now, except me. Funny if yu' should end bypersuadin' me to quit and go to Rawhide myself! But I reckon I'll not. Ireckon I'll worry along to Sunk Creek, somehow."
"Don't forget I'm cookin' for yu'," said Scipio, gruffy.
"I'm obliged to yu'," said the Southerner.
"You were speaking of a job for me," said Shorty.
"I'm right obliged. But yu' see--I ain't exackly foreman the way thiscomes out, and my promises might not bind Judge Henry to pay salaries."
A push came through the train from forward. We were slowing for theRawhide station, and all began to be busy and to talk. "Going up to themines to-day?" "Oh, let's grub first." "Guess it's too late, anyway."And so forth; while they rolled and roped their bedding, and put ontheir coats with a good deal of elbow motion, and otherwise showedoff. It was wasted. The Virginian did not know what was going on in thecaboose. He was leaning and looking out ahead, and Scipio's puzzledeye never left him. And as we halted for the water-tank, the Southernerexclaimed, "They 'ain't got away yet!" as if it were good news to him.
He meant the delayed trains. Four stalled expresses were in front of us,besides several freights. And two hours more at least before the bridgewould be ready.
Travellers stood and sat about forlorn, near the cars, out in thesage-brush, anywhere. People in hats and spurs watched them, and Indianchiefs offered them painted bows and arrows and shiny horns.
"I reckon them passengers would prefer a laig o' mutton," said theVirginian to a man loafing near the caboose.
"Bet your life!" said the man. "First lot has been stuck here fourdays."
"Plumb starved, ain't they?" inquired the Virginian.
"Bet your life! They've eat up their dining cars and they've eat up thistown."
"Well," said the Virginian, looking at the town, "I expaict thedining-cyars contained more nourishment."
"Say, you're about right there!" said the man. He walked beside thecaboose as we puffed slowly forward from the wate
r-tank to our siding."Fine business here if we'd only been ready," he continued. "And theCrow agent has let his Indians come over from the reservation. There hasbeen a little beef brought in, and game, and fish. And big money in it,bet your life! Them Eastern passengers has just been robbed. I wisht Ihad somethin' to sell!"
"Anything starting for Rawhide this afternoon?" said Trampas, out of thecaboose door.
"Not until morning," said the man. "You going to the mines?" he resumedto the Virginian.
"Why," answered the Southerner, slowly and casually, and addressinghimself strictly to the man, while Trampas, on his side, paid obviousinattention, "this hyeh delay, yu' see, may unsettle our plans some.But it'll be one of two ways,--we're all goin' to Rawhide, or we're allgoin' to Billings. We're all one party, yu' see."
Trampas laughed audibly inside the door as he rejoined his men. "Let himkeep up appearances," I heard him tell them. "It don't hurt us what hesays to strangers."
"But I'm goin' to eat hearty either way," continued the Virginian. "AndI ain' goin' to be robbed. I've been kind o' promisin' myself a treat ifwe stopped hyeh."
"Town's eat clean out," said the man.
"So yu' tell me. But all you folks has forgot one source of revenue thatyu' have right close by, mighty handy. If you have got a gunny sack,I'll show you how to make some money."
"Bet your life!" said the man.
"Mr. Le Moyne," said the Virginian, "the outfit's cookin' stuff isaboard, and if you'll get the fire ready, we'll try how frawgs' laigs gofried." He walked off at once, the man following like a dog. Inside thecaboose rose a gust of laughter.
"Frogs!" muttered Scipio. And then turning a blank face to me, "Frogs?"
"Colonel Cyrus Jones had them on his bill of fare," I said. "'FROGS'LEGS A LA DELMONICO.'"
"Shoo! I didn't get up that thing. They had it when I came. Never lookedat it. Frogs?" He went down the steps very slowly, with a long frown.Reaching the ground, he shook his head. "That man's trail is surelyhard to anticipate," he said. "But I must hurry up that fire. For hisappearance has given me encouragement," Scipio concluded, and becamebrisk. Shorty helped him, and I brought wood. Trampas and the otherpeople strolled off to the station, a compact band.
Our little fire was built beside the caboose, so the cooking thingsmight be easily reached and put back. You would scarcely think suchoperations held any interest, even for the hungry, when there seemedto be nothing to cook. A few sticks blazing tamely in the dust, afrying-pan, half a tin bucket of lard, some water, and barren plates andknives and forks, and three silent men attending to them--that was all.But the travellers came to see. These waifs drew near us, and stood, asad, lone, shifting fringe of audience; four to begin with; and then twowandered away; and presently one of these came back, finding it worseelsewhere. "Supper, boys?" said he. "Breakfast," said Scipio, crossly.And no more of them addressed us. I heard them joylessly mention WallStreet to each other, and Saratoga; I even heard the name Bryn Mawr,which is near Philadelphia. But these fragments of home dropped in thewilderness here in Montana beside a freight caboose were of no interestto me now.
"Looks like frogs down there, too," said Scipio. "See them marshy sloosfull of weeds?" We took a little turn and had a sight of the Virginianquite active among the ponds. "Hush! I'm getting some thoughts,"continued Scipio. "He wasn't sorry enough. Don't interrupt me."
"I'm not," said I.
"No. But I'd 'most caught a-hold." And Scipio muttered to himself again,"He wasn't sorry enough." Presently he swore loud and brilliantly."Tell yu'!" he cried. "What did he say to Trampas after that play theyexchanged over railroad improvements and Trampas put the josh on him?Didn't he say, 'Trampas, I thought you'd be afraid to do it?' Well, sir,Trampas had better have been afraid. And that's what he meant. There'swhere he was bringin' it to. Trampas made an awful bad play then. Youwait. Glory, but he's a knowin' man! Course he wasn't sorry. I guess hehad the hardest kind of work to look as sorry as he did. You wait."
"Wait? What for? Go on, man! What for?"
"I don't know! I don't know! Whatever hand he's been holdin' up, this isthe show-down. He's played for a show-down here before the caboose getsoff the bridge. Come back to the fire, or Shorty'll be leavin' itgo out. Grow happy some, Shorty!" he cried on arriving, and his handcracked on Shorty's shoulder. "Supper's in sight, Shorty. Food forreflection."
"None for the stomach?" asked the passenger who had spoken once before.
"We're figuring on that too," said Scipio. His crossness had meltedentirely away.
"Why, they're cow-boys!" exclaimed another passenger; and he movednearer.
From the station Trampas now came back, his herd following him lesscompactly. They had found famine, and no hope of supplies until thenext train from the East. This was no fault of Trampas's; but they werefollowing him less compactly. They carried one piece of cheese, thesize of a fist, the weight of a brick, the hue of a corpse. And thepassengers, seeing it, exclaimed, "There's Old Faithful again!" and tookoff their hats.
"You gentlemen met that cheese before, then?" said Scipio, delighted.
"It's been offered me three times a day for four days," said thepassenger. "Did he want a dollar or a dollar and a half?"
"Two dollars!" blurted out the enthusiast. And all of us save Trampasfell into fits of imbecile laughter.
"Here comes our grub, anyway," said Scipio, looking off toward themarshes. And his hilarity sobered away in a moment.
"Well, the train will be in soon," stated Trampas. "I guess we'll get adecent supper without frogs."
All interest settled now upon the Virginian. He was coming with his manand his gunny sack, and the gunny sack hung from his shoulder heavily,as a full sack should. He took no notice of the gathering, but sat downand partly emptied the sack. "There," said he, very businesslike, to hisassistant, "that's all we'll want. I think you'll find a ready marketfor the balance."
"Well, my gracious!" said the enthusiast. "What fool eats a frog?"
"Oh, I'm fool enough for a tadpole!" cried the passenger. And they beganto take out their pocket-books.
"You can cook yours right hyeh, gentlemen," said the Virginian, withhis slow Southern courtesy. "The dining-cyars don't look like they werefired up."
"How much will you sell a couple for?" inquired the enthusiast.
The Virginian looked at him with friendly surprise. "Why, help yourself!We're all together yet awhile. Help yourselves," he repeated, to Trampasand his followers. These hung back a moment, then, with a slinkingmotion, set the cheese upon the earth and came forward nearer the fireto receive some supper.
"It won't scarcely be Delmonico style," said the Virginian to thepassengers, "nor yet Saynt Augustine." He meant the great Augustin, thetraditional chef of Philadelphia, whose history I had sketched for himat Colonel Cyrus Jones's eating palace.
Scipio now officiated. His frying-pan was busy, and prosperous odorsrose from it.
"Run for a bucket of fresh water, Shorty," the Virginian continued,beginning his meal. "Colonel, yu' cook pretty near good. If yu' had sold'em as advertised, yu'd have cert'nly made a name."
Several were now eating with satisfaction, but not Scipio. It was allthat he could do to cook straight. The whole man seemed to glisten.His eye was shut to a slit once more, while the innocent passengersthankfully swallowed.
"Now, you see, you have made some money," began the Virginian to thenative who had helped him get the frogs.
"Bet your life!" exclaimed the man. "Divvy, won't you?" And he held outhalf his gains.
"Keep 'em," returned the Southerner. "I reckon we're square. But Iexpaict they'll not equal Delmonico's, seh?" he said to a passenger.
"Don't trust the judgment of a man as hungry as I am!" exclaimed thetraveller, with a laugh. And he turned to his fellow-travellers. "Didyou ever enjoy supper at Delmonico's more than this?"
"Never!" they sighed.
"Why, look here," said the traveller, "what fools the people of thistown are! Here we've been all these sta
rving days, and you come and getahead of them!"
"That's right easy explained," said the Virginian. "I've been wherethere was big money in frawgs, and they 'ain't been. They're all cattlehyeh. Talk cattle, think cattle, and they're bankrupt in consequence.Fallen through. Ain't that so?" he inquired of the native.
"That's about the way," said the man.
"It's mighty hard to do what your neighbors ain't doin'," pursued theVirginian. "Montana is all cattle, an' these folks must be cattle,an' never notice the country right hyeh is too small for a range, an'swampy, anyway, an' just waitin' to be a frawg ranch."
At this, all wore a face of careful reserve.
"I'm not claimin' to be smarter than you folks hyeh," said theVirginian, deprecatingly, to his assistant. "But travellin' learns aman many customs. You wouldn't do the business they done at Tulare,California, north side o' the lake. They cert'nly utilized them hopelessswamps splendid. Of course they put up big capital and went into itscientific, gettin' advice from the government Fish Commission, an' suchlike knowledge. Yu' see, they had big markets for their frawgs,--SanFrancisco, Los Angeles, and clear to New York afteh the Southern Pacificwas through. But up hyeh yu' could sell to passengers every day like yu'done this one day. They would get to know yu' along the line. Competingswamps are scarce. The dining-cyars would take your frawgs, and yu'would have the Yellowstone Park for four months in the year. Them hotelsare anxious to please, an' they would buy off yu' what their Easternpatrons esteem as fine-eatin'. And you folks would be sellin' somethinginstead o' nothin'."
"That's a practical idea," said a traveller. "And little cost."
"And little cost," said the Virginian.
"Would Eastern people eat frogs?" inquired the man.
"Look at us!" said the traveller.
"Delmonico doesn't give yu' such a treat!" said the Virginian.
"Not exactly!" the traveller exclaimed.
"How much would be paid for frogs?" said Trampas to him. And I sawScipio bend closer to his cooking.
"Oh, I don't know," said the traveller. "We've paid pretty well, yousee."
"You're late for Tulare, Trampas," said the Virginian.
"I was not thinking of Tulare," Trampas retorted. Scipio's nose was inthe frying-pan.
"Mos' comical spot you ever struck!" said the Virginian, looking roundupon the whole company. He allowed himself a broad smile of retrospect."To hear 'em talk frawgs at Tulare! Same as other folks talks hawsses orsteers or whatever they're raising to sell. Yu'd fall into it yourselvesif yu' started the business. Anything a man's bread and butter dependson, he's going to be earnest about. Don't care if it is a frawg."
"That's so," said the native. "And it paid good?"
"The only money in the county was right there," answered the Virginian."It was a dead county, and only frawgs was movin'. But that business wasa-fannin' to beat four of a kind. It made yu' feel strange at first, asI said. For all the men had been cattle-men at one time or another.Till yu' got accustomed, it would give 'most anybody a shock to hear 'emspeak about herdin' the bulls in a pasture by themselves." The Virginianallowed himself another smile, but became serious again. "That was theirpolicy," he explained. "Except at certain times o' year they kept thebulls separate. The Fish Commission told 'em they'd better, and itcert'nly worked mighty well. It or something did--for, gentlemen, hush!but there was millions. You'd have said all the frawgs in the world hadtaken charge at Tulare. And the money rolled in! Gentlemen, hush! 'twasa gold mine for the owners. Forty per cent they netted some years.And they paid generous wages. For they could sell to all them Frenchrestaurants in San Francisco, yu' see. And there was the Cliff House.And the Palace Hotel made it a specialty. And the officers took frawgsat the Presidio, an' Angel Island, an' Alcatraz, an' Benicia. LosAngeles was beginnin' its boom. The corner-lot sharps wanted somethingby way of varnish. An' so they dazzled Eastern investors withadvertisin' Tulare frawgs clear to New Orleans an' New York. 'Twas onlyin Sacramento frawgs was dull. I expaict the California legislaturewas too or'n'ry for them fine-raised luxuries. They tell of one of themsenators that he raked a million out of Los Angeles real estate, andstarted in for a bang-up meal with champagne. Wanted to scatter his newgold thick an' quick. But he got astray among all the fancy dishes,an' just yelled right out before the ladies, 'Damn it! bring me fortydollars' worth of ham and aiggs.' He was a funny senator, now."
The Virginian paused, and finished eating a leg. And then with diabolicart he made a feint at wandering to new fields of anecdote. "Talkin' ofsenators," he resumed, "Senator Wise--"
"How much did you say wages were at Tulare?" inquired one of the Trampasfaction.
"How much? Why, I never knew what the foreman got. The regular hands gota hundred. Senator Wise--"
"A hundred a MONTH?"
"Why, it was wet an' muddy work, yu' see. A man risked rheumatism some.He risked it a good deal. Well, I was going to tell about Senator Wise.When Senator Wise was speaking of his visit to Alaska--"
"Forty per cent, was it?" said Trampas.
"Oh, I must call my wife," said the traveller behind me. "This is what Icame West for." And he hurried away.
"Not forty per cent the bad years," replied the Virginian. "The frawgshad enemies, same as cattle. I remember when a pelican got in the springpasture, and the herd broke through the fence--"
"Fence?" said a passenger.
"Ditch, seh, and wire net. Every pasture was a square swamp with a ditcharound, and a wire net. Yu've heard the mournful, mixed-up sound a bigbunch of cattle will make? Well, seh, as yu' druv from the railroad tothe Tulare frawg ranch yu' could hear 'em a mile. Springtime they'd singlike girls in the organ loft, and by August they were about ready tohire out for bass. And all was fit to be soloists, if I'm a judge. Butin a bad year it might only be twenty per cent. The pelican rushed 'emfrom the pasture right into the San Joaquin River, which was closeby the property. The big balance of the herd stampeded, and though ofcourse they came out on the banks again, the news had went around, andfolks below at Hemlen eat most of 'em just to spite the company. Yu'see, a frawg in a river is more hopeless than any maverick loose on therange. And they never struck any plan to brand their stock and proveownership."
"Well, twenty per cent is good enough for me," said Trampas, "if Rawhidedon't suit me."
"A hundred a month!" said the enthusiast. And busy calculations began toarise among them.
"It went to fifty per cent," pursued the Virginian, "when New York andPhiladelphia got to biddin' agaynst each other. Both cities had signsall over 'em claiming to furnish the Tulare frawg. And both had 'em allright. And same as cattle trains, yu'd see frawg trains tearing acrosstArizona--big glass tanks with wire over 'em--through to New York, an'the frawgs starin' out."
"Why, George," whispered a woman's voice behind me, "he's merelydeceiving them! He's merely making that stuff up out of his head."
"Yes, my dear, that's merely what he's doing."
"Well, I don't see why you imagined I should care for this. I think I'llgo back."
"Better see it out, Daisy. This beats the geysers or anything we'relikely to find in the Yellowstone."
"Then I wish we had gone to Bar Harbor as usual," said the lady, and shereturned to her Pullman.
But her husband stayed. Indeed, the male crowd now was a goodly sightto see, how the men edged close, drawn by a common tie. Their differentkinds of feet told the strength of the bond--yellow sleeping-carslippers planted miscellaneous and motionless near a pair of Mexicanspurs. All eyes watched the Virginian and gave him their entiresympathy. Though they could not know his motive for it, what he wasdoing had fallen as light upon them--all except the excited calculators.These were loudly making their fortunes at both Rawhide and Tulare,drugged by their satanically aroused hopes of gold, heedless of theslippers and the spurs. Had a man given any sign to warn them, I thinkhe would have been lynched. Even the Indian chiefs had come to see intheir show war bonnets and blankets. They naturally understood nothingof it, yet magn
etically knew that the Virginian was the great man. Andthey watched him with approval. He sat by the fire with the frying-pan,looking his daily self--engaging and saturnine. And now as Trampasdeclared tickets to California would be dear and Rawhide had better comefirst, the Southerner let loose his heaven-born imagination.
"There's a better reason for Rawhide than tickets, Trampas," said he. "Isaid it was too late for Tulare."
"I heard you," said Trampas. "Opinions may differ. You and I don't thinkalike on several points."
"Gawd, Trampas!" said the Virginian, "d' yu' reckon I'd be rotting hyehon forty dollars if Tulare was like it used to be? Tulare is broke."
"What broke it? Your leaving?"
"Revenge broke it, and disease," said the Virginian, striking thefrying-pan on his knee, for the frogs were all gone. At those luridwords their untamed child minds took fire, and they drew round him againto hear a tale of blood. The crowd seemed to lean nearer.
But for a short moment it threatened to be spoiled. A passenger camealong, demanding in an important voice, "Where are these frogs?" He wasa prominent New York after-dinner speaker, they whispered me, andout for a holiday in his private car. Reaching us and walking to theVirginian, he said cheerily, "How much do you want for your frogs, myfriend?"
"You got a friend hyeh?" said the Virginian. "That's good, for yu'need care taken of yu'." And the prominent after-dinner speaker did notfurther discommode us.
"That's worth my trip," whispered a New York passenger to me.
"Yes, it was a case of revenge," resumed the Virginian, "and disease.There was a man named Saynt Augustine got run out of Domingo, which isa Dago island. He come to Philadelphia, an' he was dead broke. But SayntAugustine was a live man, an' he saw Philadelphia was full o' Quakersthat dressed plain an' eat humdrum. So he started cookin' Domingoway for 'em, an' they caught right ahold. Terrapin, he gave 'em,an' croakeets, an' he'd use forty chickens to make a broth he calledconsommay. An' he got rich, and Philadelphia got well known, an'Delmonico in New York he got jealous. He was the cook that had thesay-so in New York."
"Was Delmonico one of them I-talians?" inquired a fascinated mutineer.
"I don't know. But he acted like one. Lorenzo was his front name. Heaimed to cut--"
"Domingo's throat?" breathed the enthusiast.
"Aimed to cut away the trade from Saynt Augustine an' put Philadelphiaback where he thought she belonged. Frawgs was the fashionable ragethen. These foreign cooks set the fashion in eatin', same as foreigndressmakers do women's clothes. Both cities was catchin' and swallowin'all the frawgs Tulare could throw at 'em. So he--"
"Lorenzo?" said the enthusiast.
"Yes, Lorenzo Delmonico. He bid a dollar a tank higher. An' SayntAugustine raised him fifty cents. An' Lorenzo raised him a dollar.An' Saynt Augustine shoved her up three. Lorenzo he didn't expectPhiladelphia would go that high, and he got hot in the collar, an' flewround his kitchen in New York, an' claimed he'd twist Saynt Augustine'sDomingo tail for him and crack his ossified system. Lorenzo raised hislanguage to a high temperature, they say. An' then quite sudden offhe starts for Tulare. He buys tickets over the Santa Fe, and he goesa-fannin' and a-foggin'. But, gentlemen, hush! The very same day SayntAugustine he tears out of Philadelphia. He travelled by the way o'Washington, an' out he comes a-fannin' an' a-foggin' over the SouthernPacific. Of course Tulare didn't know nothin' of this. All it knowedwas how the frawg market was on soarin' wings, and it was feelin' likea flight o' rawckets. If only there'd been some preparation,--a telegramor something,--the disaster would never have occurred. But Lorenzo andSaynt Augustine was that absorbed watchin' each other--for, yu' see, theSanta Fe and the Southern Pacific come together at Mojave, an' thetwo cooks travelled a matter of two hundred an' ten miles in thesame cyar--they never thought about a telegram. And when they arruv,breathless, an' started in to screechin' what they'd give for themonopoly, why, them unsuspectin' Tulare boys got amused at 'em. I neverheard just all they done, but they had Lorenzo singin' and dancin',while Saynt Augustine played the fiddle for him. And one of Lorenzo'sheels did get a trifle grazed. Well, them two cooks quit that ranchwithout disclosin' their identity, and soon as they got to a safedistance they swore eternal friendship, in their excitable foreign way.And they went home over the Union Pacific, sharing the same stateroom.Their revenge killed frawgs. The disease--"
"How killed frogs?" demanded Trampas.
"Just killed 'em. Delmonico and Saynt Augustine wiped frawgs off theslate of fashion. Not a banker in Fifth Avenue'll touch one now ifanother banker's around watchin' him. And if ever yu' see a man thathides his feet an' won't take off his socks in company, he has worked inthem Tulare swamps an' got the disease. Catch him wadin', and yu'll findhe's web-footed. Frawgs are dead, Trampas, and so are you."
"Rise up, liars, and salute your king!" yelled Scipio. "Oh, I'm in lovewith you!" And he threw his arms round the Virginian.
"Let me shake hands with you," said the traveller, who had failed tointerest his wife in these things. "I wish I was going to have more ofyour company."
"Thank ye', seh," said the Virginian.
Other passengers greeted him, and the Indian chiefs came, saying, "How!"because they followed their feelings without understanding.
"Don't show so humbled, boys," said the deputy foreman to his mostsheepish crew. "These gentlemen from the East have been enjoying yu'some, I know. But think what a weary wait they have had hyeh. And youinsisted on playing the game with me this way, yu' see. What outlet didyu' give me? Didn't I have it to do? And I'll tell yu' one thingfor your consolation: when I got to the middle of the frawgs I 'mostbelieved it myself." And he laughed out the first laugh I had heard himgive.
The enthusiast came up and shook hands. That led off, and the restfollowed, with Trampas at the end. The tide was too strong for him. Hewas not a graceful loser; but he got through this, and the Virginianeased him down by treating him precisely like the others--apparently.Possibly the supreme--the most American--moment of all was when wordcame that the bridge was open, and the Pullman trains, with noise andtriumph, began to move westward at last. Every one waved farewell toevery one, craning from steps and windows, so that the cars twinkledwith hilarity; and in twenty minutes the whole procession in front hadmoved, and our turn came.
"Last chance for Rawhide," said the Virginian.
"Last chance for Sunk Creek," said a reconstructed mutineer, and allsprang aboard. There was no question who had won his spurs now.
Our caboose trundled on to Billings along the shingly cotton-woodedYellowstone; and as the plains and bluffs and the distant snow began togrow well known, even to me, we turned to our baggage that was to comeoff, since camp would begin in the morning. Thus I saw the Virginiancarefully rewrapping Kenilworth, that he might bring it to its ownerunharmed; and I said, "Don't you think you could have played poker withQueen Elizabeth?"
"No; I expaict she'd have beat me," he replied. "She was a lady."
It was at Billings, on this day, that I made those reflections aboutequality. For the Virginian had been equal to the occasion: that is theonly kind of equality which I recognize.