Part 3 (1/2)
They did not remain long in doubt, however, for the owner of the ranch came from the house and instructed them to follow the road over the hill, where they were heading grain, and to await his arrival, adding that their horses would be sent out later by one of the boys, who would drive them while on the job. This arrangement was a disappointment to Gully, who had hoped that he might be permitted to drive them, but he made no complaint, and they did as they were bidden.
When they arrived at the place indicated by the owner, they found the header with the horses. .h.i.tched ready for starting. Three header boxes were awaiting the arrival of teams and drivers. A circle had been cut in a large area of ripe grain and a few loads piled in the center, indicating where the stack setting was to be made. The driver of the heading machine, or ”header puncher,” as he was called, was groping around in the uncertain light, oiling up or adjusting the drapers or elevator canvas.
In a few moments a wagon came from the house with a barrel of water, a few additional pitchforks, and some extra parts of machinery that might be needed in case of a breakdown. Our friends were a.s.signed their respective duties; Gully was to be stacker, the molder as ”spike pitch”
or helper in the stack yard, the professor was ”loader,” and the soldier was given a pitchfork and sent to turn the grain in the ”backswarth,” a narrow strip cut around the entire field before the regular heading is begun. This is usually cut green and allowed to cure for hay. So with their horses being driven to a header box the siege had begun.
For five weeks, each day being identical, days of constant grind, short nights, and three trips to the cook house, days of blistering heat, the sunrays being intensified by concentration and reflection from the s.h.i.+ning surface of the glistening straw. The light soil, mostly volcanic ash, being pounded and loosened by the constant tramping of the horses in their many trips to and from header to stack; lifted high at each turn of the ”bullwheel” of the header and sent flying in stifling clouds, clogging the eyes, ears, nose and mouths of the workers, while trickling streams of perspiration from beneath their hatbands washed furrows through the acc.u.mulated ma.s.s on their faces.
The first week of this toil tried the spirit of our party almost to the breaking point. Night would find them bowed down with aching backs from the unaccustomed strain of pitching the heavy grain; hands numb and cramped, with blistered palms; throats dry and parched from the intense heat and dust from the straw. They would sink down upon their blankets in the hay mow and sleep the sleep of utter exhaustion, but the hopes of our homesteaders were being constantly revived by the receipt of encouraging letters from home.
Opportunities for getting these letters mailed were few, it was explained, but by sending them to the camp of the surveyors they were taken to the distant town and forwarded; and such news as they brought.
”All are well at home. Do not worry; we are doing splendidly. Of course we miss you very much and want you with us, but when you do come home, you can stay. Just think, a party of the surveyors were on our land today and have driven stakes showing exactly where the irrigation ditch is to run.” Thus wrote Gully's wife, and others would tell of rumors of large land deals, whole sections and half of towns.h.i.+ps, being purchased by big companies, all to be immediately improved. Houses were being erected in every direction; parcels of land heretofore considered worthless were being filed on; a school house was being built and, really, things were beginning to be quite homelike.
Upon receipt of these cheerful missives the disappointment of the first season was for the time forgotten, and the men entered into their daily toil with cheerful hearts, filled with the antic.i.p.ation of the realization of their dreams. Thus on through the ensuing thres.h.i.+ng season up until the later fall, when it seemed that a snowfall might occur any day, did our st.u.r.dy homesteaders toil on until the last of the golden grain was sacked and hauled to a place of safety. Then only did they turn their faces homeward, with the indispensable blanket rolls, the old canvas telescope grip, now more dilapidated than ever, thrown at random in the wagon; with overalls out a knee, the frazzled threads of many colored patches indicating the earnest efforts of their wearers to make them last the season through; hats out at crown, and well worn shoes, they were indeed a travesty on the party who had left their homes only a few months before. But each sun tanned face was wreathed in smiles, for securely tucked away in those well worn overalls was a snug sum, their harvest wages, that insured them and their loved ones against want during the coming winter.
They were going to their ”own homes.” They did not have to move or worry about a new location for the following year; things were different now.
This money they had earned, hard earned, it was true. Think of the many comforts it would buy--shoes for the little ones, and much provisions, and by judicious expenditure additions might be made to their homes.
They could at least weatherboard them and make them more comfortable.
Such were the thoughts and suggestions that filled the minds of these faithful home builders throughout the first day of their journey home.
CHAPTER VIII.
I have often wondered, as no doubt many of my readers have, what there is in a man's nature that makes him blush and feel ashamed of doing a little act that is in every respect perfectly natural, and one, that if publicly known, would raise him in the estimation of his fellow men, and yet while condemning himself for his weakness, his heart actually throbs with the pleasure he derives from doing as he has done.
The first day on their return journey from the harvest field was a joyous one, the relaxation from the strain and the diversion acting as an elixir. Freed from the noise of clattering machinery out upon the highway, and relieved of the sight of miles of brown fields of stubble, our friends rejoiced at the sight of the desert with its thousands of acres of bunch gra.s.s and sagebrush that stretched far ahead of them to the foothills, there to be met by the dark green shade of the mountain pine and fir, above which shone in all its glittering splendor the eternal snow on the mountain peaks. They spoke in endearing terms of the mighty wilderness as theirs, as if little realizing that the small portion of that vast domain to which they actually held claim was insignificant.
They had chosen a different route by which to make their return, one that led them through a small village situated at the edge of the desert. It was here that the last night out from home was spent, and here too was demonstrated the peculiar traits of man's character referred to at the opening of this chapter.
After the establishment of the camp for the night and after the team had been cared for, Travis Gully was noticeably restless, and at length wandered away from his companions and entered the village store. No thought of his own disheveled appearance entered his mind. It was of the dear wife and little ones he thought. The morrow would see him with them, and the long summer's watching and waiting would be at an end.
What more natural than that he should wish to take some little token to the children and to her, who had borne the burden of the long summer's separation that they might retain their homestead?
He thought of her as he had last seen her, as she stood at the camp near the well, struggling to withhold the tears that he know too well had flown many times since he left. He recalled the pitiful effort she had made to dress for the occasion of his departure; of her brown dress, her best dress, the one that had been carefully made, st.i.tch by st.i.tch, in preparation for their long journey from their old home to the land of promise; how it had withstood the days of constant wear while she was cramped up in the tourist coach, being whirled away across the continent, and how guardedly she had spread the cloth upon her lap to protect the precious fabric from being soiled by the touch of many little fingers made greasy by clutching the huge sandwiches of fried chicken, ham and cheese, with which the s.p.a.cious hamper, their traveling companion, was bounteously provisioned; and how after their arrival, and while seeking a suitable location, it had been subjected to countless brus.h.i.+ngs and spongings, until at last it bore all too plainly the evidences of the hard usages to which it had been called up to submit.
And yet, it was still her best.
She should have a new dress, one that he himself had bought, and without hesitating he approached the expectant merchant to make known his wants, and here his confusion was made evident. Never having made a purchase of this nature, he was at a loss as to quant.i.ty, quality and color. After numerous suggestions from the over-anxious merchant a selection was made, the required number of yards guessed at and measured off. Then after purchasing a small carton of animal crackers and some peanuts and candy for each of the children, he paid the amount of his purchase, and with his precious bundles tucked beneath his arm sought the camping place.
As he approached the camp fire around which his companions were seated, he was seized with a desire to hide his bundles lest they might jeer him good-naturedly about his extravagance. He tried to reach the wagon by a circuitous route to avoid observation until he had hidden his bundles.
In this effort he was partially successful, but the others had seen him in time to arouse their suspicions, and they accused him of buying a new suit. To this he entered a strenuous denial, but looked guilty and felt uncomfortable the remainder of the evening. He did not join in the conversation that followed his arrival, but sat, as the firelight died down, and watched across the barren waste for the first twinkling light that might give evidence that human beings inhabited this vast region of hidden possibilities.
Thus he sat long after the other members of the party had gone to bed, sat dreaming, as his watchful gaze centered on the darkened s.p.a.ce made more dense by the rays of the fitful flicker of the dying fire, s.p.a.ce that for the lack of distinguishable form might be likened unto a yawning cavern, a bottomless abyss, whose only known content was stygian darkness. Was it into the unsatiable maw of this monstrous dungeon by night and inferno by day that he had allowed himself and loved ones to be drawn; unwittingly, it was true, but as irrestistably as a disabled craft into the vortex of some mighty whirlpool, carried around and around the outer circle, fascinated by the charm of the smooth gliding movement. Suddenly the arc of the circle decreases, and looking further toward the center, other objects are seen, but it is noted that they seem to be moving more rapidly. Why this increased speed? Is the goal in sight, or has their proximity to the desired end given them a vantage view? Ah! they will keep speed with the large object just ahead of their craft; perhaps they can learn what motive drew them to this delightful place. But a moment, a pause, a quiver and a plunge downward; one mighty wail of despair, followed by a gurgling sound of gluttenous satisfaction, and they realize too late their fate. Casting a despairing look backward to warn those in sight not to follow, but on they come, heedless of their warning, offering themselves unconscious sacrifices to the ever increasing demand for new territory for new outlets, for the ever populated districts of the world.
It was the same old story. The pioneer fighting the first great fight, blazing the trail and marking the route with suffering, tears and even death, that future generations might follow at their ease.
Travis Gully wondered if he, as its helmsman, had allowed his craft to be drawn into dangerous waters, bearing with him his family, the precious pa.s.sengers whose lives had been intrusted to his care. Had he, at the first narrowing of the circle, gone and left them in this vast wilderness. Was it justice? Were they safe? A few more hours would tell.
And let the conditions in the future be what they may, he would never leave them again. With this resolve, and with a feeling of comfortable a.s.surance that his leaving would not again become necessary he, with one more look to see that his bundles remained where he had hidden them, went to his rest.