"How far is it?"
"Three miles."
"Come along with us and get the money if you can. I"ll help ye fit up and go where ye can earn a living."
"I"d like to, but my horse is lame and I can"t leave the children."
"Put "em right in this wagon and come on. If there"s a livery in the place, I"ll send ye home."
So the children rode in the wagon and Samson and Brimstead walked, while Sarah drove the team to the next village. There the good woman bought new clothes for the whole Brimstead family and Brimstead sold his interest in the sand plains and bought a good pair of horses, with harness and some cloth for a wagon cover, and had fifty dollars in his pocket and a new look in his face. He put his children on the backs of the horses and led them to his old home, with a sack of provisions on his shoulder. He was to take the track of the Traylors next day and begin his journey to the sh.o.r.es of the Sangamon.
Samson had asked about him in the village and learned that he was an honest man who had suffered bad luck. A neighbor"s wife had taken his children for two years, but bad health had compelled her to give them up.
"G.o.d does the most of it," Sarah quoted from the young girl, as they rode on. "I guess He"s saved "em from the poorhouse to-day. I hope they"ll ketch up with us. I"d like to look after those children a little. They need a mother so."
"They"ll ketch up all right," said Samson. "We"re loaded heavier than they"ll be and goin" purty slow. They"ll be leavin" No Santa Claus Land to-morrow mornin". Seems so G.o.d spoke to me when that girl said there wa"n"t no Santa Claus there."
"No Santa Claus Land is a good name for it," said Sarah.
They got into a bad swale that afternoon and Samson had to cut some corduroy to make a footing for team and wagon and do much prying with the end of a heavy pole under the front axle. By and by the horses pulled them out.
"When ol" Colonel bends his neck things have to move, even if he is up to his belly in the mud," said Samson.
As the day waned they came to a river in the deep woods. It was an exquisite bit of forest with the bells of a hermit thrush ringing in one of its towers. Their call and the low song of the river were the only sounds in the silence. The glow of the setting sun which lighted the western windows of the forest had a color like that of the music-golden.
Long shafts of it fell through the tree columns upon the road here and there. Our weary travelers stopped on the rude plank bridge that crossed the river. Odors of balsam and pine and tamarack came in a light, cool breeze up the river valley.
"It smells like Bear Valley," said Sarah.
"What was that poetry you learned for the church party?" Samson asked.
"I guess the part of it you"re thinking of is:
"And west winds with musky wing Down the cedarn alleys fling "Nard and Ca.s.sia"s balmy smells.""
"That"s it," said Samson. "I guess we"ll stop at this tavern till to-morrow."
Joe was asleep and they laid him on the blankets until supper was ready.
Soon after supper Samson shot a deer which had waded into the rapids.
Fortunately, it made the opposite sh.o.r.e before it fell. All hands spent that evening dressing the deer and jerking the best of the meat. This they did by cutting the meat into strips about the size of a man"s hand and salting and laying it on a rack, some two feet above a slow fire, and covering it with green boughs. The heat and smoke dried the meat in the course of two or three hours and gave it a fine flavor. Delicious beyond any kind of meat is venison treated in this manner. If kept dry, it will retain its flavor and its sweetness for a month or more.
Samson was busy with this process long after the others had gone to bed.
When it was nearly finished he left the meat on the rack, the fire beneath it having burned low, crossed the river to the wagon, got his blanket, reloaded his gun and lay down to sleep with the dog beside him.
Some hours later he was awakened by "a kind of a bull beller," as he described it. The dog ran barking across the river. Samson seized the gun and followed him. The first dim light of the morning showed through the tree-tops. Some big animal was growling and roaring and rolling over and over in a clump of bushes near the meat rack. In half a moment it rolled out upon the open ground near Samson. The latter could now see that it was a large black bear engaged in a desperate struggle with the pack basket. The bear had forced his great head into the top of it and its hoop had got a firm hold on his neck. He was sniffing and growling and shaking his head and striking with both fore paws to free himself. Sambo had laid hold of his stub tail and the bear was trying in vain to reach him, with the dog dodging as he held on. The movements of both were so lively that Samson had to step like a dancer to keep clear of them. The bear, in sore trouble, leaped toward him and the swaying basket touched the side of the man. Back into the bushes and out again they struggled, Sambo keeping his hold. A more curious and ludicrous sight never gladdened the eye of a hunter. Samson had found it hard to get a chance to shoot at the noisy, swift torrent of fur. Suddenly the bear rose on his hind legs and let out an angry woof and gave the basket a terrific shaking. In this brief pause a ball from the rifle went to his heart and he fell. Samson jumped forward, seized the dog"s collar and pulled him away while the bear struggled in his death throes. Then the man started for camp, while his great laugh woke distant echoes in the forest.
"Bear steak for dinner!" he shouted to Sarah and the children, who stood shivering with fright on the bridge.
Again his laughter filled the woods with sound.
"Gracious Peter! What in the world was it?" Sarah asked.
"Well, ye see, ol" Uncle Bear came to steal our bacon an" the bacon kind o" stole him," said Samson, between peals of laughter, the infection of which went to the heart and lips of every member of the family. "Shoved his head into the pack basket and the pack basket wouldn"t let go. It said: "This is the first time I ever swallered a bear, an" if you don"t mind I"ll stay on the outside. I kind o" like you." But the bear did mind. He didn"t want to be et up by a basket. He"d always done the swallerin" himself an" he hollered an" swore at the basket an" tried to scare it off. Oh, I tell ye he was awful sa.s.sy and impudent to that old thing, but it hung on and the way he flounced around, with Sambo clingin"
to his tail, and the bear thinkin" that he was bein" swallered at both ends, was awful. Come an" see him."
They went to the bear, now dead. Sambo ran ahead of them and laid hold of the bear"s stump of a tail and shook it savagely, as if inclined to take too much credit upon himself. The hoop of the pack basket had so tight a hold upon the bear"s neck that it took a strong pull to get it back over his head. One side of the basket had been protected from the bear"s claws by a pad of sole leather--the side which, when the basket was in use, rested on the back of its carrier. His claws had cut nearly through it and torn a carrying strap into shreds.
"I guess he"d "a" tore off his veil if the dog had give him a little more time," said Samson. "Ol" Uncle Bear had trouble at both ends and didn"t know which way to turn."
A good-sized piece of bacon still, lay in the bottom of the basket.
"I wouldn"t wonder if that would taste pretty beary now," said Samson, as he surveyed the bacon. "It"s been sneezed at and growled on so much.
Betsey, you take that down to the sh.o.r.e o" the river there and wash the bear out of it. I"ll skin him while yer mother is gettin" breakfast.
There"s plenty o" live coals under the venison rack, I guess."
They set out rather late that morning. As usual, Joe stood by the head of Colonel while the latter lapped brown sugar from the timid palm of the boy. Then the horse was wont to touch the face of Joe with his big, hairy lips as a tribute to his generosity. Colonel had seemed to acquire a singular attachment for the boy and the dog, while Pete distrusted both of them. He had never a moment"s leisure, anyhow, being always busy with his work or the flies. A few breaks in the pack basket had been repaired with green withes. It creaked with its load of jerked venison when put aboard. The meat of the bear was nicely wrapped in his hide and placed beside it. They sold meat and hide and bounty rights in the next village they reached for thirty long shillings.
"That cheers up the ol" weasel," Samson declared, as they went on.
"He got a hard knock after we met the Brimsteads," said Sarah.
"Yes, ma"am! and I"m not sorry either. He"s got to come out of his hole once in a while. I tell ye G.o.d kind o" spoke to us back there in No Santa Claus Land. He kind o" spoke to us."
After a little silence, Sarah said: "I guess He"s apt to speak in the voices of little children."
His weasel was a dried pig"s bladder of unusual size in which he carried his money. Samson had brought with him a fairly good quant.i.ty of money for those days. In a smaller bladder he carried his tobacco.
Farther on the boy got a sore throat. Sarah bound a slice of pork around it and Samson built a camp by the roadside, in which, after a good fire was started, they gave him a hemlock sweat. This they did by steeping hemlock in pails of hot water and, while the patient sat in a chair by the fireside, a blanket was spread about him and pinned close to his neck. Under the blanket they put the pails of steaming hemlock tea. After his sweat and a day and night in bed, with a warm fire burning in front of the shanty, Joe was able to resume his seat in the wagon. They spoke of the Brimsteads and thought it strange that they had not come along.
On the twenty-ninth day after their journey began they came in sight of the beautiful green valley of the Mohawk. As they looked from the hills they saw the roof of the forest dipping down to the river sh.o.r.es and stretching far to the east and west and broken, here and there, by small clearings. Soon they could see the smoke and spires of the thriving village of Utica.
CHAPTER II
WHEREIN IS RECORDED THE VIVID IMPRESSION MADE UPON THE TRAVELERS BY THEIR VIEW OF A STEAM ENGINE AND OF THE FAMOUS ERIE Ca.n.a.l. WHEREIN, ALSO, IS A BRIEF ACCOUNT OF SUNDRY CURIOUS CHARACTERS MET ON THE ROAD AND AT A CELEBRATION OF THE FOURTH OF JULY ON THE BIG WATERWAY.
At Utica they bought provisions and a tin trumpet for Joe, and a doll with a real porcelain face for Betsey, and turned into the great main thoroughfare of the north leading eastward to Boston and westward to a sh.o.r.e of the midland seas. This road was once the great trail of the Iroquois, by them called the Long House, because it had reached from the Hudson to Lake Erie, and in their day had been well roofed with foliage.
Here the travelers got their first view of a steam engine. The latter stood puffing and smoking near the village of Utica, to the horror and amazement of the team and the great excitement of those in the wagon. The boy clung to his father for fear of it.
Samson longed to get out of the wagon and take a close look at the noisy monster, but his horses were rearing in their haste to get away, and even a short stop was impossible. Sambo, with his tail between his legs, ran ahead, in a panic, and took refuge in some bushes by the roadside.
"What was that, father?" the boy asked when the horses had ceased to worry over this new peril.
"A steam engyne," he answered. "Sarah, did ye get a good look at it?"