THE NEW MOVERS
Far away, across the wide gray plain, appeared a tiny dot, apparently an unimportant fixture of the landscape. An hour earlier it might not have been observed at all by even the keenest eye, and it would have needed yet more time to a.s.sure an observer even now that the dot was a moving object. Under the shifting play of the prairie sun the little object appeared now dark, now light in colour, but became gradually more distinct. It came always crawling steadily on. Presently an occasional side-blown puff of dust added a certain heraldry, and thus finally the white-topped wagon and its plodding team came fully into view, crawling ever persistently from the East into the West.
Meantime, from the direction of the north, there came travelling across the prairie another cloud of dust more rapid than that stirred up by the slow-moving emigrant wagon. Sam, the stage driver, was crossing on his regular buckboard trip from Ellisville to Plum Centre, and was now nearly half-way on his journey. Obviously the courses of these two vehicles must intersect, and at the natural point of this intersection the driver of the faster pulled up and waited for the other. "Movers"
were not yet so common in that region that the stage driver, natural news agent, must not pause for investigation.
The driver of the wagon, a tall, dark man, drew rein with a grave salutation, his tired horses standing with drooping heads while there took place one of the pregnant conversations of the Plains.
"Mornin", friend," said Sam.
"Mornin", sir," said the other.
"Which way you headin", friend?" asked Sam.
"Well, sir," came the answer, slowly, "I rather reckon you"ve got me.
I"ve just been movin" on out. I want to locate, but I reckon my team could travel a little further if they had to." This with a certain grimness in his smile, as though he realized the whimsicality of the average motive which governed in that day in quests like his. "Is there much travel comin" through here this season?" he resumed, turning in his seat and resting one foot on the wheel as he sat still perched on the high wagon seat.
"Well," replied Sam, "they ain"t so much just yet, but they will be pretty soon. You see, the Land Office is about sixty mile east of here yet, and folks is mostly stoppin" in there. Land around here is pretty much all open yet. If they move the Land Office to the track-end, of course all this land will be taken up a good deal faster."
"Is it good farmin" land around here?"
"Sure. Better"n it is farther west, and just as good as it is farther east. Wheat"ll do well here, and it ain"t too cold for corn. Best cow country on earth."
"How is Ellisville doing now?"
"Bloomin"."
"Yes, sir, so I heard farther back. Is it goin" to be a real town?"
"That"s whatever! How can it help it? It"s goin" to be a division point on the road. It"s goin" to have all the cattle-shippin" trade.
After a while it"ll have all the farmin" trade. It"s goin" to be the town, all right, don"t you neglect that. They"s fifteen thousand head of cattle in around here now. Town"s got two hotels, good livery stable--that"s mine--half a dozen stores, nigh on to a dozen saloons, an" two barber-shops. Yes, sir, Ellisville is the place!"
"Which way are you bound, sir?" asked the stranger, still sitting, apparently in thought, with his chin resting on his hand.
"Well, you see, they"s another town goin" up below here about twenty mile--old man Plum"s town, Plum Centre. I run the mail an" carry folk acrost from Ellisville to that place. This here is just about halfway acrost. Ellisville"s about twenty or twenty-five mile north of here."
Sam spoke lucidly enough, but really he was much consumed with curiosity, for he had seen, behind the driver of the wagon, a face outlined in the shade. He wondered how many "women-folk" the new mover had along, this being ever a vital question at that day. The tall man on the wagon seat turned his face slowly back toward the interior of the wagon.
"What do you think, Lizzie?" he asked.
"Dear me, William," came reply from the darkness in a somewhat complaining voice, "how can I tell? It all seems alike to me. You can judge better than I."
"What do you say, niece?"
The person last addressed rested a hand upon the questioner"s shoulder and lightly climbed out upon the seat by his side, stooping as she pa.s.sed under the low bow of the cover frame. She stood upright, a tall and gracious figure, upon the wagon floor in front of the seat, and shaded her eyes as she looked about her. Her presence caused Sam to instinctively straighten up and tug at his open coat. He took off his hat with a memory of other days, and said his "Good-mornin"" as the schoolboy does to his teacher--superior, revered, and awesome.
Yet this new character upon this bare little scene was not of a sort to terrify. Tall she was and shapely, comely with all the grace of youth and health, not yet tanned too brown by the searing prairie winds, and showing still the faint purity of the complexion of the South. There was no slouch in her erect and self-respecting carriage, no shiftiness in her eye, no awkwardness in her speech. To Sam it was instantaneously evident that here was a new species of being, one of which he had but the vaguest notions through any experiences of his own. His chief impression was that he was at once grown small, dusty, and much unshaven. He flushed as he shifted and twisted on the buckboard seat.
The girl looked about her for a moment in silence, shading her eyes still with her curved hand.
"It is much alike, all this country that we have seen since we left the last farms. Uncle William," she said, "but it doesn"t seem dreary to me. I should think--"
But what she would have thought was broken into by a sudden exclamation from farther back in the wagon. A large black face appeared at the aperture under the front wagon bow, and the owner of it spoke with a certain oracular vigour.
"Fo" Gawd, Ma.s.s" William, less jess stop right yer! I "clare, I"se jess wore to a plum frazzle, a-travelin" an" _a-travelin"_! Ef we gwine settle, why, less _settle_, tha.s.s all I say!"
The driver of the wagon sat silent for a moment, his leg still hanging over the end of the seat, his chin in the hand of the arm which rested upon his other leg, propped up on the dashboard of the wagon. At length, quietly, and with no comment, he unbuckled the reins and threw them out and down upon the ground on either side of the wagon.
"Whoa, boys," he called to the horses, which were too weary to note that they were no longer asked to go farther on. Then the driver got deliberately down. He was a tall man, of good bearing, in his shoulders but little of the stoop of the farmer, and on his hands not any convincing proof that he was personally acquainted with continuous bodily toil. His face was thin, aquiline, proud; his hair dark, his eyes gray. He might have been a planter, a rancher, a man of leisure or a man of affairs, as it might happen that one met him at the one locality or the other. One might have called him a gentleman, another only a "pilgrim." To Sam he was a "mover," and that was all. His own duty as proselyter was obvious. Each new settlement was at war with all others, population being the first need.
"We"ll turn out here," said the man, striking his heel upon the ground with significant gesture, as was an unconscious custom among the men who chose out land for themselves in a new region. "We"ll stop here for a bite to eat, and I reckon we won"t go any farther west. How is this country around here for water?"
"Sure," said Sam, "excuse me. I"ve got a jug along with me. I nearly always carry some water along, because they ain"t but one creek, and they ain"t no wells.--Have a drink, miss?" And he politely pulled out the wooden stopper of a jug and offered it with a hand which jumped in spite of himself.
"Thank you, sir," said the girl, and her uncle added his courteous thanks also. "What I meant to ask, sir, however," he continued, "is what is the prospect of getting water in this part of the country in case we should like to settle in here?"
"Oh, that?" said Sam. "Why, say, you couldn"t very well hit it much better. Less"n a mile farther down this trail to the south you come to the Sinks of the White Woman Creek. They"s most always some water in that creek, and you can git it there any place by diggin" ten or twenty feet.
"That"s good," said the stranger. "That"s mighty good." He turned to the wagon side and called out to his wife. "Come, Lizzie," he said, "get out, dear, and take a rest. We"ll have a bite to eat, and then we"ll talk this all over."
The woman to whom he spoke next appeared at the wagon front and was aided to the ground. Tall, slender, black clad, with thin, pale face, she seemed even more unsuited than her husband to the prospect which lay before them. She stood for a moment alone, looking about her at the land which had long been shut off from view by the wagon tent, then turned and went close to the man, upon whom she evidently relied for the solution of life"s problems. Immediately behind her there clambered down from the wagon, with many groanings and complaints, the goodly bulk of the black woman who had earlier given her advice. "Set down yer, Mis" Lizzie, in the shade," she said, spreading a rug upon the ground upon the side of the wagon farthest from the sun. "Set down an" git a ress. Gawd knows we all needs it--this yer fo"saken kentry.
"Tain" good as Mizzoury, let "lone Kaintucky er Ole Vehginny--no, mam!"
There was thus now established, by the chance of small things, the location of a home. This wagon, with its occupants, had come far and journeyed vaguely, having no given point in view. The meeting of this other vehicle, here in the middle of the untracked prairie, perhaps aided by the chance words of a tired negress, made the determining circ.u.mstances. It was done. It was decided. There was a relief at once upon every countenance. Now these persons were become citizens of this land. Unwittingly, or at least tacitly, this was admitted when the leader of this little party advanced to the side of the buckboard and offered his hand.
"My name is Buford," he said slowly and with grave courtesy. "This is my wife; my niece, Miss Beauchamp. Your name, sir, I don"t know, but we are very glad to meet you."
"My name"s Poston," said Sam, as he also now climbed down from his seat, seeing that the matter was clinched and that he had gained a family for his county--"Sam Poston. I run the livery barn. I sure hope you"ll stop in here, for you won"t find no better country. Do you allow you"ll move up to Ellisville and live there?"
"Well, I"ve started out to get some land," said Buford, "and I presume that the first thing is to find that and get the entry made. Then we"ll have to live on it till we can commute it. I don"t know that it would suit us at Ellisville just yet. It must be a rather hard town, from all I can learn, and hardly fit for ladies."
"That"s so," said Sam, "it ain"t just the quietest place in the world for women-folks. Only five or six women in the place yet, outside the section boss"s wife and the help at the depot hotel. Still," he added apologetically, "folks soon gets used to the noise. I don"t mind it no more at all."
Buford smiled as he glanced quizzically at the faces of his "women-folks." At this moment Sam broke out with a loud exclamation.
"Say!" he cried.
"Yes, sir," said Buford.
"I"ll tell you what!"
"Yes?"
"Now, you listen to me. I"ll tell you what! You see, this here place where we are now is just about a mile from the White Woman Sinks, and that is, as I was sayin", just about halfway between Ellisville and Plum Centre. Now, look here. This country"s goin" to boom. They"s goin" to be a plenty of people come in here right along. There"ll be a regular travel from Ellis down to Plum Centre, and it"s too long a trip to make between meals. My pa.s.sengers all has to carry meals along with "em, and they kick on that a-plenty. Now, you look here. Listen to me. You just go down to the White Woman, and drive your stake there.
Take up a quarter for each one of you. Put you up a sod house quick as you can--I"ll git you help for that. Now, if you can git anything to cook, and can give meals to my stage outfit when I carry pa.s.sengers through here, why, I can promise you, you"ll git business, and you"ll git it a-plenty, too. Why, say, this"d be the best sort of a lay-out, all around. You can start just as good a business here as you could at Ellisville, and it"s a heap quieter here. Now, I want some one to start just such a eatin" place somewheres along here, and if you"ll do that, you"ll make a stake here in less"n two years, sure"s you"re born."
Sam"s conviction gave him eloquence. He was talking of business now, of the direct, practical things which were of immediate concern in the life of the region about. The force of what he said would not have been apparent to the unpracticed observer, who might have seen no indication in the wide solitude about that there would ever be here a human population or a human industry. Buford was schooled enough to be more just in his estimate, and he saw the reasonableness of what his new acquaintance had said. Unconsciously his eye wandered over to the portly form of the negress, who sat fanning herself, a little apart from the others. He smiled again with the quizzical look on his face.
"How about that, Aunt Lucy?" he said.