CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.
SWEETWATER BLUFF.
We must now leap over a considerable space, not only of distance, but oftime, in order to appreciate fully the result of Charlie Brooke'sfurious letter-writing and amazing powers of persuasion.
Let the reader try to imagine a wide plateau, dotted with trees andbushes, on one of the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains, where thatmighty range begins to slide into union with the great prairies. Itcommands a view of mingled woodland and rolling plain, diversified byriver and lake, extending to a horizon so faint and far away as tosuggest the idea of illimitable space.
Early one morning in spring, five horsemen, emerging from a belt ofwoodland, galloped to the slope that led to the summit of this plateau.Drawing rein, they began slowly to ascend. Two of the cavaliers wereyoung, tall, and strong;--two were portly and old, though still heartyand vigorous; one, who led them, on a coal-black steed, was amagnificent specimen of the backwoodsman, and one, who brought up therear, was a thin little man, who made up for what he wanted in size bythe energy and vigour of his action, as, with hand and heel, he urged anunwilling horse to keep up with the rest of the party.
Arrived at the summit of the plateau, the leading horseman trotted toits eastern edge, and halted as if for the purpose of surveying theposition.
"Here we are at last," he said, to the tallest of his comrades;"Sweetwater Bluff--and the end of our journey!"
"And a most noble end it is!" exclaimed the tall comrade. "Why, HunkyBen, it far surpasses my expectations and all you have said about it."
"Most o' the people I've had to guide over this trail have said prettymuch the same thing in different words, Mr Brooke," returned the scout,dismounting. "Your wife will find plenty o' subjects here for thepaintin' she's so fond of."
"Ay, May will find work here to keep her brushes busy for many a day tocome," replied Charlie, "though I suspect that other matters will claimmost of her time at first, for there is nothing but a wilderness hereyet."
"You've yet to larn, sir, that we don't take as long to _fix_ up a townhereaway as you do in the old country," remarked Hunky Ben, as old JacobCrossley ambled up on the staid creature which we have alreadyintroduced as _Wheelbarrow_.
Waving his hand with enthusiasm the old gentleman exclaimed, "Glorious!"Indeed, for a few minutes he sat with glistening eyes and heavingchest, quite unable to give vent to any other sentiment than "glorious!"This he did at intervals. His interest in the scene, however, wasdistracted by the sudden advent of Captain Stride, whose horse--along-legged roan--had an awkward tendency, among other eccentricities,to advance sideways with a waltzing gait, that greatly disconcerted themariner.
"Woa! you brute. Back your tops'ls, won't you? I _never_ did see sitcha craft for heavin' about like a Dutch lugger in a cross sea. She sailsside on, no matter where she's bound for. Forges ahead a'most entirelyby means of leeway, so to speak. Hallo! woa! Ketch a grip o' thepainter, Dick, an' hold on till I git off the hurricane deck o' thiswalrus--else I'll be overboard in a--. There--" The captain came to theground suddenly as he spoke, without the use of stirrup, and, luckily,without injury.
"Not hurt I hope?" asked Dick Darvall, assisting his brother-salt torise.
"Not a bit of it, Dick. You see I'm a'most as active as yourself thoughdouble your age, if not more. I say, Charlie, this _is_ a prettylook-out. Don't 'ee think so, Mr Crossley? I was sure that Hunky Benwould find us a pleasant anchorage and safe holding-ground at last,though it did seem as if we was pretty long o' comin' to it. Just as wewas leavin' the waggins to ride on in advance I said to my missus--saysI--Maggie, you may depend--"
"Hallo! Zook," cried Charlie, as the little man of the slums camelimping up, "what have you done with your horse?"
"Cast 'im loose, sir, an' gi'n 'im leave of absence as long as 'epleases. It's my opinion that some the 'osses o' the western prairiesain't quite eekal to some o' the 'osses I've bin used to in Rotten Row.Is this the place, Hunky? Well, now," continued the little man, withflashing eyes, as he looked round on the magnificent scene, "it'll do.Beats W'itechapel an' the Parks any 'ow. An' there's lots o' poultryabout, too!" he added, as a flock of wild ducks went by on whistlingwings. "I say, Hunky Ben, w'at's yon brown things over there by theshores o' the lake?"
"Buffalo," answered the scout.
"What! wild uns?"
"There's no tame ones in them diggin's as I knows on. If there was,they'd soon become wild, you bet."
"An' w'at's yon monster crawlin' over the farthest plain, like the greatsea-serpent?"
"Why, man," returned the scout, "them's the waggins. Come, now, let'sto work an' git the fire lit. The cart wi' the chuck an' tents'll behere in a few minutes, an' the waggins won't be long arter 'em."
"Ay, wi' the women an' kids shoutin' for grub," added Zook, as he limpedafter the scout, while the rest of the little band dispersed--some tocut firewood, others to select the best positions for the tents. Thewaggons, with a supply of food, arrived soon after under the care ofRoaring Bull himself, with two of his cowboys. They were followed byButtercup, who bestrode, man-fashion, a mustang nearly as black asherself and even more frisky.
In a wonderfully short time a number of white tents arose on the plateauand several fires blazed, and at all the fires Buttercup laboured withsuperhuman effect, assisted by the cowboys, to the unbounded admirationof Zook, who willingly superintended everything, but did little ornothing. A flat rock on the highest point was chosen for the site of afuture block-house or citadel, and upon this was ere long spread abreakfast on a magnificent scale. It was barely ready when the firstwaggons arrived and commenced to lumber up the ascent, preceded by twogirls on horseback, who waved their hands, and gave vent to vigorouslittle feminine cheers as they cantered up the slope.
These two were our old friends whom we knew as May Leather and MaryJackson, but who must now be re-introduced to the reader as Mrs CharlieBrooke and Mrs Dick Darvall. On the same day they had changed theirnames at the Ranch of Roaring Bull, and had come to essay wedded life inthe far west.
We need hardly say that this was the great experimental emigrant party,led by the Reverend William Reeves, who had resolved to found a colonyon total abstinence principles, and with as many as possible of the sinsof civilisation left behind. They found, alas! that sin is not soeasily got rid of; nevertheless, the effort was not altogetherfruitless, and Mr Reeves carried with him a sovereign antidote for sinin the shape of a godly spirit.
The party was a large one, for there were many men and women of thefrontier whose experiences had taught them that life was happier andbetter in every way without the prevalent vices of gambling anddrinking.
Of course the emigrants formed rather a motley band. Among them,besides those of our friends already mentioned, there were our hero'smother and all the Leather family. Captain Stride's daughter as well ashis "Missus," and Mr Crossley's housekeeper, Mrs Bland. That goodwoman, however, had been much subdued and rendered harmless by theterrors of the wilderness, to which she had been recently exposed. MissMolloy was also there, with an enormous supply of knitting needles andseveral bales of worsted.
Poor Shank Leather was still so much of an invalid as to be obliged totravel in a spring cart with his father, but both men were rapidlyregaining physical strength under the influence of temperance, andspiritual strength under a higher power.
Soon the hammer, axe, and saw began to resound in that lovely westernwilderness; the net to sweep its lakes; the hook to invade its rivers;the rifle to crack in the forests, and the plough to open up its virginsoil. In less time, almost, than a European would take to wink, thetown of Sweetwater Bluff sprang into being; stores and workshops, aschool and a church, grew, up like mushrooms; seed was sown, andeverything, in short, was done that is characteristic of the advent of athriving community. But not a gambling or drinking saloon, or a drop offirewater, was to be found in all the town.
In spite of this, Indians brought their furs to it; t
rappers came to itfor supplies; emigrants turned aside to see and rest in it; and theplace soon became noted as a flourishing and pre-eminently peacefulspot.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.
The Last.
But a little cloud arose ere long on the horizon of Sweetwater Bluff.Insignificant at first, it suddenly spread over the sky and burst in awild storm.
The first intimation of its approach came from Charlie Brooke one quietautumn evening, in that brief but delightful season known as the IndianSummer.
Charlie entered his garden that evening with a fowling-piece on hisshoulder, and two brace of prairie hens at his girdle. May was seatedat her cottage door, basking in sunshine, chatting with her mother--whowas knitting of course--and Shank was conversing with Hunky Ben, whorested after a day of labour.
"There, May, is to-morrow's dinner," said Charlie, throwing the birds athis wife's feet, and sitting down beside her. "Who d'you think I passedwhen I was out on the plains to-day, Hunky? Your old friend Crux theCowboy."
"He's no friend o' mine," said the scout, while something like a frownflitted across his usually placid brow. "I'm not over-pleased to hearthat he's comin', for it's said that some old uncle or aunt o' his--Iforget which--has left him a lot o' dollars. I hope he ain't comin' tospend 'em here, for he'd never git along without gamblin' an' drinkin'."
"Then, I can tell you that he _is_ just coming to stay here," returnedCharlie, "for he has several waggons with him, and a dozen men. I askedhim where he was going to, and he said, to locate himself as astore-keeper at Sweetwater Bluff; but he did not seem inclined to becommunicative, so I left him and galloped on to report the news. Whatd'you think about it?"
"I think it'll be a bad day for Sweetwater Bluff when Crux comes tosettle in it. Howsoever, this is a free country, an' we've no right tointerfere with him so long as he don't break the laws. But I doubt him.I'm afeard he'll try to sell drink, an' there's some o' our people whoare longin' to git back to that."
The other members of the party, and indeed those heads of the towngenerally who knew Crux, were of much the same opinion, but some of themthought that, being in a free country, no one had a right to interfere.The consequence was that Crux and his men were permitted to go to work.They hired a shed in which to stow their goods, while they were engagedin building a store, and in course of time this was finished; but therewas a degree of mystery about the ex-cowboy's proceedings which baffledinvestigation, and people did not like to press inquiry too far; for itwas observed that all the men who had accompanied Crux were young andpowerful fellows, well armed with rifle and revolver.
At last however, the work was finished, and the mystery was cleared up,for, one fine morning, the new store was opened as a drinking andgambling saloon; and that same evening the place was in full swing--sending forth the shouts, songs, cursing and demoniac laughter for whichsuch places are celebrated.
Consternation filled the hearts of the community, for it was not onlythe men brought there by Crux who kept up their revels in the newsaloon, but a sprinkling of the spirited young fellows of the town also,who had never been very enthusiastic in the temperance cause, and weretherefore prepared to fall before the first temptation.
At a conference of the chief men of the town it was resolved to try toinduce Crux to quit quietly, and for this end to offer to buy up hisstock-in-trade. Hunky Ben, being an old acquaintance, was requested togo to the store as a deputation.
But the ex-cowboy was inexorable. Neither the offer of money norargument had any effect on him.
"Well, Crux," said the scout, at the conclusion of his visit, "you knowyour own affairs best but, rememberin' as I do, what you used to be, Ithought there was more of fair-play about you."
"Fair-play! What d'ye mean?"
"I mean that when folk let _you_ alone, you used to be willin' to let_them_ alone. Here has a crowd o' people come back all this way intothe Rockies to escape from the curse o' strong drink and gamblin', an'here has Crux--a lover o' fair-play--come all this way to shove thatcurse right under their noses. I'd thowt better of ye, Crux, lad."
"It don't matter much what you thowt o' me, old man," returned thecowboy, somewhat sharply; "an', as to fair-play, there's a lot of menhere who don't agree wi' your humbuggin' notions about temperance an'tee-totalism--more of 'em, maybe, than you think. These want to havethe drink, an' I've come to give it 'em. I see nothin' unfair in that."
Hunky Ben carried his report back to the council, which for some timediscussed the situation. As in the case of most councils, there wassome difference of opinion: a few of the members being inclined to carrythings with a high hand--being urged thereto by Captain Stride--whileothers, influenced chiefly by Mr Reeves, were anxious to try peaceablemeans.
At last a sub-committee was appointed, at Hunky Ben's suggestion, toconsider the whole matter, and take what steps seemed advisable. Hunkywas an adroit and modest man--he could not have been a first-rate scoutotherwise! He managed not only to become convener of the committee, butsucceeded in getting men chiefly of his own opinion placed on it. Atsupper that night in Charlie's cottage, while enjoying May's cookery andpresence, and waited on by the amused and interested Buttercup, thesub-committee discussed and settled the plan of operations.
"It's all nonsense," said Hunky Ben, "to talk of tryin' to persuadeCrux. He's as obstinate as a Texas mule wi' the toothache."
"Rubbish!" exclaimed Captain Stride, smiting the table with his fist."We mustn't parley with him, but heave him overboard at once! I said soto my missus this very day. `Maggie,' says I--"
"And what do _you_ think, Charlie?" asked Mr Crossley.
"I think with Hunky Ben, of course. He knows Crux, and what is best tobe done in the circumstances. The only thing that perplexes me, is whatshall we do with the liquor when we've paid for it? A lot of it is goodwine and champagne, and, although useless as a beverage, it is useful asa medicine, and might be given to hospitals."
"Pour it out!" exclaimed Shank, almost fiercely.
"Ay, the hospitals can look out for themselves," added Shank's fatherwarmly.
"Some hospitals, I've bin told, git on well enough without italtogether," said Dick Darvall. "However, it's a subject that desarvesconsideration.--Hallo! Buttercup, what is it that tickles your fancyan' makes your mouth stretch out like that?"
Buttercup became preternaturally grave on the instant, but declined totell what it was that tickled her fancy.
Shortly after the party rose and left the house, Hunky Ben remarking,with a quiet laugh, that deeds of darkness were best hatched at night.
What the conspirators hatched became pretty evident next day, for,during the breakfast hour, a band of forty horsemen rode slowly down thesloping road which led to the plains, and on the side of which Crux hadbuilt his saloon.
Crux and his men turned out in some surprise to watch the cavalcade asit passed. The band was led by Charlie Brooke, and the scout rode inadvance on Black Polly as guide.
"Is it the Reds or the Buffalo you're after to-day, Hunky, with such abig crowd?" asked Crux.
"Halt!" cried Charlie, at that moment.
The forty men obeyed, and, turning suddenly to the left, faced thesaloon.
"Hands up!" said Charlie, whose men at the same moment pointed theirrifles at Crux and his men. These were all too familiar with the orderto dare to disobey it.
Our hero then ordered a small detachment of his men to enter the saloonand fetch out all rifles and pistols, and those of Crux's people whochanced to have their weapons about them, were disarmed. Anotherdetachment went off to the stables behind the saloon.
While they were thus engaged, Charlie addressed Crux.
"We have decided to expel you, Crux, from this town," he said, as hedrew an envelope from his pocket. "We have tried to convince you that,as the majority of the people here don't want you, it is your duty togo. As you don't seem to see this, we now take the law into our ownhands. We love fair-play, however, so you will find in this envelo
pe acheque which we have reason to believe is fully equal to the value ofyour saloon and all its contents. Your lost time and trouble is yourown affair. As you came without invitation, you must go withoutcompensation. Here are your rifles, and revolvers, emptied ofcartridges, and there are your horses saddled."
As he spoke, one detachment of his men handed rifles and revolvers tothe party, who were stricken dumb with amazement. At the same time,their horses, saddled and bridled, were led to the front and deliveredto them.
"We have no provisions," said Crux, at last recovering the use of histongue; "and without ammunition we cannot procure any."
"That has been provided for," said our hero, turning to Hunky Ben.
"Ay, Crux," said the scout, "we don't want to starve you, though the'arth wouldn't lose much if we did. At the other end o' the lake, aboutfive mile from here, you'll find a red rag flyin' at the branch of atree. In the hole of a rock close beside it, you'll find three days'provisions for you and your men, an' a lot of ammunition."
"Now, mount and go," said Charlie, "and if you ever show face hereagain, except as friends, your blood be on your own heads!"
Crux did not hesitate. He and his men saw that the game was up; withoutanother word they mounted their horses and galloped away.
While this scene was being enacted a dark creature, with darker designs,entered the drinking saloon and descended to the cellar. Finding aspirit-cask with a tap in it, Buttercup turned it on, then, pulling amatch-box out of her pocket she muttered, "I t'ink de hospitals won'tgit much ob it!" and applied a light. The effect was more powerful thanshe had expected. The spirit blazed up with sudden fury, singeing offthe girl's eyebrows and lashes, and almost blinding her. In her alarmButtercup dashed up to the saloon, missed her way, and found herself onthe stair leading to the upper floor. A cloud of smoke and fire forcedher to rush up. She went to the window and yelled, on observing that itwas far too high to leap. She rushed to another window and howled inhorror, for escape was apparently impossible.
Charlie heard the howl. He and his men had retired to a safe distancewhen the fire was first observed--thinking the place empty--but the howltouched a chord in our hero's sympathetic breast, which was ever readyto vibrate. From whom the howl proceeded mattered little or nothing toCharlie Brooke. Sufficient that it was the cry of a living being indistress. He sprang at once through the open doorway of the saloon,through which was issuing a volume of thick smoke, mingled with flame.
"God help him! the place'll blow up in a few minutes," cried Hunky Ben,losing, for once, his imperturbable coolness, and rushing wildly afterhis friend. But at that moment the thick smoke burst into fierce flameand drove him back.
Charlie sprang up the staircase three steps at a time, holding hisbreath to avoid suffocation. He reached the landing, where Buttercupran, or, rather, fell, almost fainting, into his arms. At the moment anexplosion in the cellar shook the building to its foundation, and,shattering one of the windows, caused a draught of air to drive asidethe smoke. Charlie gasped a mouthful of air and looked round. Flameswere by that time roaring up the only staircase. A glance from thenearest window showed that a leap thence meant broken limbs, if notdeath, to both. A ladder up to a trap-door suggested an exit by theroof. It might only lead to a more terrible leap, but meanwhile itoffered relief from imminent suffocation. Charlie bore the half-deadgirl to the top rung, and found the trap-door padlocked, but a thrustfrom his powerful shoulder wrenched hasp and padlock from their hold,and next moment a wild cheer greeted him as he stood on a corner of thegable. But a depth of forty or fifty feet was below him with nothing tobreak his fall to the hard earth.
"Jump!" yelled one of the onlookers. "No, don't!" cried another,"you'll be killed."
"Hold your noise," roared Hunky Ben, "and lend a hand here--sharp!--thehouse'll blow up in a minute."
He ran as he spoke towards a cart which was partly filled with hay.Seizing the trams he raised them. Willing hands helped, and the cartwas run violently up against the gable--Hunky shouting to some of themen to fetch more hay.
But there was no time for that. Another explosion took place inside thebuilding, which Charlie knew must have driven in the sides of more casksand let loose fresh fuel. A terrible roar, followed by ominous crackingof the roof, warned him that there was no time to lose. He lookedsteadily at the cart for a moment and leaped. His friends held theirbreath as the pair descended. The hay would not have sufficed to breakthe fall sufficiently, but happily the cart was an old one. When theycame down on it like a thunderbolt, the bottom gave way. Crashingthrough it the pair came to the ground, heavily indeed, but uninjured!
The fall, which almost stunned our hero, had the curious effect ofreviving Buttercup, for she muttered something to the effect that, "datwas a mos' drefful smash," as they conveyed her and her rescuer from thevicinity of danger.
This had scarcely been done when the house blew up--its walls weredriven outwards, its roof was blown off, its bottles were shattered, allits baleful contents were scattered around, and, amid an appropriatehurricane of blue fire, that drinking and gambling saloon was blown toatoms.
Would that a like fate might overtake every similar establishment in theworld!
This was the first and last attempt to disturb the peace of SweetwaterBluff. It is said, indeed, that Crux and some of his men did, longafterwards, make their appearance in that happy and flourishing town,but they came as reformed men, not as foes--men who had found out thatin very truth sobriety tends to felicity, that honesty is the bestpolicy, and that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.
THE END.
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