CHAPTER XLVIII
The Fork in the Trail
The reception was over. Jim and Belle had supped at Aunt Collins's andwere back again in the cottage, sitting by the kitchen stove, in whichJim had just kindled a blazing fire, for the evenings were cold. Theywere glad to be together again by themselves, and to talk things over.
Jim put a new block in the stove; then, sitting down, remarked: "For acapitalist who contemplates buying up part of the town, securing a newrailroad, and cornering a township of gold ore, this is quite a modestlayout."
"Now while it's fresh," she replied, "let's have the whole thing;especially the invitations." She took paper and wrote them down as herecited them. Then, with a good deal of shrewdness, she proceeded toappraise one by one.
The gold mine, the railroad, and the livery barn she treated with ajoyous laugh; she liked them as symptoms. The town lot matter was worthlooking into.
As for the invitations to preach, compared with the Presbyterians, theEvangelicals were a larger body; but the Congregationalists, muchsmaller, were more solid. The last had a fine church with a strongmembership of well-to-do men, but they also had an able preacher oftheir own particular doctrines, so that Belle gave preference to theEvangelicals.
"We must concentrate our big guns on them, Jim; get out your bestsermon, the one on 'Show thyself a man' (1 Kings II:2). Keep that forthe big crowd in the evening. Next Sunday, at the Congregational Churchyou can give them the same thing, for it will be a different crowd; butat night, why not give them your sermon on 'Kindness' that made such ahit in Cedar Mountain."
"Well, where does the Salvation Army come in, Belle?"
"It doesn't come in just now"; and inwardly she hoped she might be ableto keep it out altogether. Play for time and hope for luck was her plan.But she was secretly worried by the superstitious importance which heattached to the three texts, picked at random from the Scripture thatday in Cedar Mountain, and by the interpretation he gave them. But shethought it best to avoid the subject. First she sorted the invitations,adjusted a desirable programme, and then sent a courteous reply to each,accepting or declining. And it was done in such a way that none werehurt and most were pleased. Then happened two of the accidents she hadprayed for. As Jim strode home about noon one day, he heard a rabble ofsmall boys jeering and shouting, "Holy Billy! Holy Billy! Salvation!Salvation!" He turned to see them pursued by a fat, middle-aged man, whoafter several attempts to drive them away, at length seized a pitch forkfrom those exhibited outside a hardware store and, intent on revenginghimself, ran after the children. The youngsters fled, save one, whofell; and the furious fat man made a vicious prod with the fork. Itmight easily have proved fatal, but Jim was near enough to seize theman's arm and wrest the fork from him. The fat man was white with rage.He blustered a good deal and finally went off sputtering comicallyalthough he used no cuss-words.
That evening Jim and Belle went to the Salvation Army barracks, with thefixed intention of taking part in the worship as fully as might bepermitted. On their arrival Jim was utterly surprised to find that theuniformed Captain in command was the fat little fury of the streetepisode; and still more astonished when that rotund person peremptorilyordered him out of the building. As the rest of the Salvationistsdutifully supported their Captain, Jim had no choice, and with a feelingof sadness that was not shared by Belle, he turned out into the street.
There are many drives about Deadwood, but not many good roads. Thescenery, not the pavement, is the allurement; and in the morning, theyoung couple took a short drive to learn the trails. They had not gone amile when they were brought to a standstill by a lumber wagon stuck inthe middle of the narrow road and quite immovable. It was not the weightof the load or the fault of the road, but because one of the horses wason strike--he baulked and refused absolutely to pull. Held up by theblockade, on the other side, were two buggies with men and women.
The teamster was just a plain, every-day bungler. He began by urging theobstinate horse with voice and whip; but at each fresh application thecreature merely laid back his ears, shook his head, and set his feetmore resolutely against all progress. At last the driver worked himselfinto a rage. He lashed the horse with all his strength, the only effectbeing to leave long lines on the animal's coat and cause him to kick outfrantically with his hind feet.
"Man alive!" said Jim, leaving Belle's side and walking forward, "that'sno way to handle a horse. Let me----"
A volume of abuse interrupted him. "You go on and mind your d--nbusiness," said the teamster. "I'm taking care of this." Inuncontrollable fury he beat the horse over the head with the butt end ofhis whip till it broke in two.
"See here, if you don't stop that I'll take a hand in it!" shouted Jim,thoroughly aroused.
The answer yelled back was not printable. It reflected not only on theRev. James Hartigan, but on all his ancestors. Then, in an instant, theinsane brute took a wooden hand-spike from his load and dealt the horsea terrific blow on the head. The beast staggered, almost fell, butrecovered just as the driver, shouting, "I'll larn you!" landed anotherblow and hauled back for a third that would have felled if not killedthe horse. But Jim got there first. He jerked the club out of the man'shand and as the attack turned on himself, he laid the driver out with adeft tap of the kind he knew so well. The other man with the load nowrushed at Jim to avenge his fallen leader. But it is easy to meet thatsort of onset when you know the game and have the muscle. The secondwent down on top of the first teamster amid loud cheers from the men inthe buggies.
Five years before, in this country, Jim would certainly have been shotwithin the first five minutes, but the law and order society had beendoing good work, and now men did not carry revolvers as of old, sonature's weapons counted as firearms once had done.
"Jim!" called Belle feebly. "Let's go." He turned; she was ghastly pale,as she held on to Midnight. She had never before seen men fight. She wasappalled and terrified.
"Dear child," he laughed, almost gleefully, "you're not used to it.Don't take it so seriously. Sure it's fun and it's missionary work.Don't be worried at seeing men tumbled over. As soon as those two foolscome to and stand on end, I'll show them how to drive a horse." Hestraightened out the two men he had stunned, and then went to thetrembling horse.
As he laid his hand on its shoulder it shrank. He talked softly andbegan to examine the harness. Sure enough, there was a mass of cockleburrs caught in the long mane and wedged under the collar, so that everypull of the harness drove the sharp spines into the animal's shoulder.Jim loosened the collar, cut off the mass of burrs, sacrificed hishandkerchief to make a soft pad, and replaced the collar. Meanwhile, thetwo teamsters were sitting up and looking on with little joy in theirfaces.
"Now you two ignorant babes, I'll show you how to drive a horse thatyou've made baulky; and I want you to know that there are not any baulkyhorses; it's baulky drivers that make the trouble." He went to thecreature's head, talked to it, stroked its nose, blew in its nostrils,and continued to talk till the ears no longer lay back at his touch.Presently the eyes ceased rolling and the legs were not bracingnervously.
"Now," said Jim softly, "will you be after pulling a little? Yes? Comenow," he coaxed wheedlingly, "come now," and he tightened the lines. Butthe horse shook his head, showed temper as before, and held back.
"Oh, that's what ye want, is it?" said Jim. "All right, back up it is,"and gently man[oe]uvring, he shouted: "Back!" Both horses backed. Hekept them backing, and by deft steering, held the wagon in the road.Back they went steadily. Now the baulky horse indicated his willingnessto go on; but Jim wasn't ready. It was back, back, and back some more.For a hundred yards he kept it up. At last, when he changed about andgave the order to "Get up!" the one-time baulky horse was only too gladto change his gear and pull his very best. Jim took the load up thelittle hill, and on a quarter mile, where he waited for the originalteamsters to come up.
"There, now," said Jim as he handed over the lines to the sullen driver,"you should have found that
bunch of cockle burrs. It was all yourfault, not the horse's. And if he hadn't responded to the backing, I'dhave tied a pebble in his ear and left him for a few minutes to think itover. Then he'd have gone all right; it never fails. I tell you therearen't any baulky horses if they are rightly handled."
A cheer came from the buggies as the load of timber rolled away aroundthe hill. As Hartigan got in beside Belle the two rigs came by. The menshouted, "Good for you! That was a fine job."
Jim blushed with pleasure; it was all so simple and familiar to him; butwhen he turned to look at Belle, she was white and ill. "Let's go home,Jim," she whispered. He looked at her in some surprise; then slowly itdawned on him--she had never before seen the roughness of men fighting.To him it was no more than the heavy sport of the football field. To herit was brutality unloosed; it was shocking, disgusting, next to murder.With mingled feelings of regret, amusement, and surprise he said, "Dearheart, you take it all too seriously." Then he put his arm about her,tender as a woman, and a few minutes later placed her gently in therocking chair in the white cottage.