Part 14 (2/2)
I had been very sick for the last two hours, and had only kept up with the thought that we should soon arrive at our journey's end; but when I found that we were compelled to ride three miles farther, my heart sank within me. I gave up all attempts to guide my horse, which one of the party led, leaned my head on the horn of my saddle, and resigned myself to my fate. We were obliged to walk our horses the entire distance, as I was too sick to endure any other motion. We lost our way once or twice, were exhausted with fatigue and faint with hunger, chilled through with the cold, and our feet wet with the damp night-air.
I forgot to tell you that Mrs. ----, being very fleshy, was compelled to ride astride, as it would have been utterly impossible for her to have kept her seat if she had attempted to cross those steep hills in the usual feminine mode of sitting a horse. She wore dark-gray bloomers, and, with a Kossuth hat and feather, looked like a handsome chubby boy. Now, riding astride, to one unaccustomed to it, is, as you can easily imagine, more safe than comfortable, and poor Mrs. ---- was utterly exhausted.
When we arrived at our destined haven, which we did at last, the gentleman of the house came forward and invited Mr. and Mrs. ---- to alight. Not a word was said to the rest of us, not even ”Good evening.”
But I was too far gone to stand upon ceremony. So I dismounted and made a rush for the cooking-stove, which, in company with an immense dining-table on which lay (enchanting sight!) a quarter of beef, stood under a roof, the four sides open to the winds of heaven. As for the remainder of the party, they saw how the land lay, and vamosed to parts unknown, namely, the American Rancho, where they arrived at four o'clock in the morning, some tired, I _guess_, and made such a fearful inroad upon the eatables that the proprietor stood aghast, and was only pacified by the ordering in from the bar of a most generous supply of the drinkable, which, as he sells it by the gla.s.s, somewhat reconciled him to the terrific onslaught upon the larder.
In the mean time behold me, with much more truth than poetry literally alone in my glory, seated upon a wooden stool, with both feet perched upon the stove, and crouching over the fire in a vain attempt to coax some warmth into my thoroughly chilled frame. The gentleman and lady of the house, with Mr. and Mrs. ----, are a.s.sembled in grand conclave, in one room, of which the building consists, and as California houses are _not_ planned with a view to eavesdroppers, I have the pleasure of hearing the following spirited and highly interesting conversation.
There is a touching simplicity about it truly dramatic.
I must premise that Mrs. ---- had written the day before to know if the visit, which her husband's friend had so earnestly solicited, would be conveniently received at this time, and was answered by the arrival, the next morning, for the use of herself and husband, of two horses, one of which I myself had the pleasure of riding, and found it a most excellent steed. Moreover, when Mr. ---- gave her the invitation, he said he would be pleased to have one of her lady friends accompany her.
So you see she was ”armed and equipped as the law directed.”
Thus defended, she was ushered into the presence of her hostess, whom she found reclining gracefully upon a very nice bed hung with snow-white muslin curtains, looking--for she is extremely pretty, though now somewhat pale--like a handsome wax doll.
”I am extremely sorry to find you unwell. Pray, when were you taken?
and are you suffering much at present?” commenced Mrs. ----, supposing that her illness was merely an attack of headache, or some other temporary sickness.
”Ah,” groaned my lady, in a faint voice, ”I have had a fever, and am just beginning to get a little better. I have not been able to sit up any yet, but hope to do so in a few days. As we have no servants, my husband is obliged to nurse me, as well as to cook for several men, and I am really afraid that, under the circ.u.mstances, you will not be as comfortable here as I could wish.”
”But, good heavens, my dear madam, why did you not send me word that you were sick? Surely you must have known that it would be more agreeable to me to visit you when you are in health,” replied Mrs.
”Oh,” returned our fair invalid, ”I thought that you had set your heart upon coming, and would be disappointed if I postponed the visit.”
Now, this was adding insult to injury. Poor Mrs. ----! Worn out with hunger, s.h.i.+vering with cold, herself far from well, a new-comer, unused to the makes.h.i.+ft ways which some people fancy essential to California life, expecting from the husband's representations--and knowing that he was very rich--so different a reception, and withal frank perhaps to a fault, she must be pardoned if she was not as grateful as she ought to have been, and answered a little crossly,--
”Well, I must say that I have not been treated well. Did you really think that I was so childishly crazy to get away from home that I would leave my nice plank house,”--it rose into palatial splendor when compared with the floorless shanty, less comfortable than a Yankee farmer's barn, in which she was standing,--”with its n.o.ble fireplace, nice board floor, two pleasant windows, and comfortable bed, for this wretched place? Upon my word, I am very much disappointed. However, I do not care so much for myself as for poor Mrs. ----, whom I persuaded to come with me.”
”What! is there _another_ lady?” almost shrieked (and well she might, under the circ.u.mstances) the horror-stricken hostess. ”You can sleep with me, but I am sure I do not know what we can do with another one.”
”Certainly,” was the bold reply of Mrs. ----, for she was too much provoked to be embarra.s.sed in the least. ”Availing myself of your husband's kind permission, I invited Mrs. ----, who could not procure lodgings at either of the hotels, to accompany me. But even if I were alone I should decidedly object to sleep with a sick person, and should infinitely prefer wrapping myself in my shawl and lying on the ground to being guilty of such a piece of selfishness.”
”Well,” groaned the poor woman, ”Jonathan” (or Ichabod, or David, or whatever was the domestic name of her better half), ”I suppose that you must make up some kind of a bed for them on the ground.”
Now, M., only fancy my hearing all this! _Wasn't_ it a fix for a sensitive person to be in? But, instead of bursting into tears and making myself miserable, as once I should have done, I enjoyed the contretemps immensely. It almost cured my headache, and when Mrs. ---- came to me and tried to soften matters, I told her to spare her pretty speeches, as I had heard the whole and would not have missed it for anything.
In the mean time the useful little man, combining in his small person the four functions of husband, cook, nurse, and gentleman, made us a cup of tea and some saleratus biscuit, and though I detest saleratus biscuit, and was longing for some of the beef, yet, by killing the taste of the alkali with onions, we contrived to satisfy our hunger, and the tea warmed us a little. Our host, in his capacity of chambermaid, had prepared us a couch. I was ushered into the presence of the fair invalid, to whom I made a polite apology for my intrusion.
My feet sank nearly to the ankles in the dirt and small stones as I walked across her room.
But how shall I describe to you the sufferings of that dreadful night?
I have slept on tables, on doors, and on trunks. I have reclined on couches, on chairs, and on the floor. I have lain on beds of straw, of corn-husks, of palm-leaf, and of ox-hide. I remember one awful night spent in a bedbuggy berth, on board of a packet-boat on one of the lakes. In my younger days I used to allow myself to be stretched upon the Procrustes bed of other people's opinion, though I have got bravely over such folly, and now I generally act, think, and speak as best pleases myself. I slept two glorious nights on the bare turf, with my saddle for a pillow and G.o.d's kindly sky for a quilt. I had _heard_ of a bed of thorns, of the soft side of a plank, and of the bed-rock. But all my _bodily_ experience, theoretical or practical, sinks into insignificance before a bed of cobblestones. Nothing in ancient or modern history can compare with it, unless it be the Irishman's famous down couch, which consisted of a single feather laid upon a rock, and, like him, if it had not been for the name of it, I should have preferred the bare rock. They _said_ that there was straw in the ticking upon which we lay, but I should never have imagined so from the feeling. We had neither pillows nor sheets, but the coa.r.s.est blue blankets, and not enough of them, for bedclothes; so that we suffered with cold, to add to our other miseries. And then the fleas! Well, like the Grecian artist who veiled the face whose anguish he dared not attempt to depict, I will leave to your imagination that blackest portion of our strange experiences on that awful occasion.
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