Class F 0^^ 
 Book_ 
 
 Copyright}]". 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSre 
 
THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
THE VALLEY OF 
 SHADOWS 
 
 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE LINCOLN 
 COUNTRY 1858-1863 
 
 BY 
 
 FRANCIS GRIERSON 
 
 AUTHOR OF "MODERN MYSTICISM" 
 AND " THE CELTIC TEMPERAMENT " 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 
 HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
 
 (€bc RJtjerjjiDe preistf CambriDge 
 
 1909 
 

 COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
 
 Il!C;1'\RY of congress 
 
 APR 12 \^0^ 
 
 ' Ociiyi'ii."* ■-'■'try - 
 i r.l >ss C^ ^'^'^- ^''' 
 
PREFACE 
 
 This book is not a novel, but the recollections of 
 scenes and episodes of my early life in Illinois and 
 Missouri, the writing of which has been a labour of 
 love. A cosmopolitan life in the different capitals of 
 Europe during a period of forty years has not sufficed 
 to alienate the romance and memory of those wonderful 
 times. 
 
 In looking back I have come to the conclusion that 
 the power displayed by the most influential preachers 
 and politicians of the ante-helium days in Illinois was 
 a power emanating from the spiritual side of life, and 
 I have done my best to depict the " silences " that 
 belonged to the prairies, for out of those silences came 
 the voices of preacher and prophet and a host of 
 workers and heroes in the great War of Secession. 
 
 In 1863 President Lincoln issued his famous pro- 
 clamation for the emancipation of the slaves, and with 
 it the old order passed away never to return. Indeed, 
 the social upheaval of that year was greater than that 
 produced by the Declaration of Independence in 1776, 
 and no matter what happens now, the old political and 
 social conditions can never be revived. Not only have 
 the people changed, but the whole face of the nation 
 has changed — the prairies are gone, and luxurious 
 
vi PREFACE 
 
 homes are to be found in the places where log-houses, 
 primitive woods, and wild flowers were the only- 
 prominent features of the landscape for many miles 
 together. 
 
 I have recorded my impressions of the passing of 
 the old democracy and the old social system in the 
 United States, and, curiously enough, I witnessed 
 again in 1869-70, while residing in Paris, the passing 
 of another social order — that of Napoleon and the 
 Empire, the recollections of which I shall leave for a 
 future volume. 
 
 F. G. 
 
 Mill House, 
 Radclive, 
 
 Buckingham. 
 
 Jamiary, 1909. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 PROEM 
 
 I. THE MEETINO-HOUSK 
 
 II. THE LOAD-BEARER .... 
 
 III. THE LOG-HOUSK .... 
 
 IV. SOCRATES orVRS ADVICE . 
 
 V. SILAS Jordan's illness , 
 
 VI. the cabin of SOCRATES . 
 
 Vll. AT THE POST-OFFTCE 
 
 VIII. MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEARER's HOME 
 
 IX. A NIGHT OF MYSTERY 
 
 X, SOWING AND REAPING 
 
 XI. THE FLIGHT 
 
 XII. THE CAMP-MEETING .... 
 
 XIII. THE PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 
 
 XIV. THE REGULATORS .... 
 XV. ALTON AND THE MISSISSIPPI 
 
 XVI. ABRAHAM LINCOLN .... 
 
 xvn. ST. LOUIS : society and the churches 
 
 XVIII. THE GREAT FAIR .... 
 
 XIX. THE planters' HOUSE 
 
 XX. THE TORCH-LIGHT PROCESSION 
 
 VACK 
 1 
 
 20 
 
 32 
 
 41 
 
 53 
 
 60 
 
 78 
 
 85 
 
 99 
 
 107 
 
 118 
 
 134 
 
 154 
 
 170 
 
 187 
 
 195 
 
 202 
 
 212 
 
 215 
 
 222 
 
viii CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAOE 
 
 XXI. CAMP JACKSON 227 
 
 XXII. GENEKAL FREMONT ... .... 233 
 
 XXIII. THE DANCE OF DEATH 240 
 
 XXIV. IN THE MAZE ... 2.52 
 
 XXV. grierson's raid 262 
 
 XXVI. THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 268 
 
PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN 
 EDITION 
 
 On presenting to the American public this vivid record 
 of a remarkable epoch in our history, the publishers have 
 thought that some account of the author might not be out 
 of place. Indeed the recollections contained in the follow- 
 ing pages, interesting as they are in themselves, take, from 
 the unusual and romantic career of the writer, an added 
 import and significance. 
 
 Francis Grierson was born in Cheshire, England, Septem- 
 ber 18, 1848, and his parents emigrated to Illinois in March, 
 1849, to join relatives already settled in that state. He is a 
 cousin of General B. H. Grierson, and a direct descendant 
 of Robert Grierson, the " Redgauntlet " of Scott's famous 
 novel. His father became an American citizen, helped to 
 elect Lincoln, and returned to England in 1871. The boy, 
 who early developed a remarkable musical gift, preceded his 
 father in his return, was introduced to the social and artistic 
 world of Paris in the late sixties by Alexandre Dumas, the 
 author of " Monte Cristo," and soon became acquainted with 
 the social, artistic, and political leaders of the times. With- 
 out money, without letters of introduction, without aid 
 from any one, he became the musical celebrity of the day. 
 Up to this time Chopin had been regarded as the last word 
 in the domain of musical inspiration and the magical art of 
 
vi PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION 
 
 improvisation. The new prodigy evoked not only the char- 
 acteristics of past musical epochs, but the musical soul of 
 ancient Egypt, Assyria, Palestine, and Greece. He would 
 pass from a suave melody of the Italian school, or from a 
 symphonic movement of the German, to a languid melody 
 of the East, the pomp or melancholy of Nineveh or Babylon. 
 And it is said that at certain wonderful moments, he could 
 add the strangest, most inexplicable voice, that did not fol- 
 low the music but went along with it, almost independent of 
 it, rising up from out the middle chords of the piano, faintly 
 at first, and at last filling the room with indescribable and 
 thrilling tones. The sensations produced were all the more 
 profound because the playing was so spontaneous on the 
 part of the performer. Improvisation was the real key to 
 the power. The performer himself never knew what would 
 or could be done. The music came with the charm of some- 
 thing unlocked for, and absolutely new. 
 
 Such gifts were never intended for the public, and Mr. 
 Grierson restricted his performances to the mansions of cul- 
 tured people and the salons of musical leaders. Yet he made 
 some exceptions, consenting once in a while to sing in some 
 great church or cathedral. He sang by special invitation in 
 Saint-Eustache and in the great Basilica of Montmartre, 
 in Paris, and was urged by Leon Gastinelle, the composer 
 of sacred music, to sing the principal solos in his new mass 
 to be given in Notre Dame, with full orchestra and chorus, 
 at the fete of the Annunciation on the 25th of March, 1870. 
 From Paris he went to London, where he met with a repe- 
 tition of his Paris triumphs. When the season closed he 
 accepted an invitation to visit Baden, then the leading 
 
PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION vii 
 
 gambling centre of Europe, and the most fashionable of all 
 watering places. The Bishop of Baden warmly pressed him 
 to sing in the Cathedral at High Mass. Here he achieved an 
 unheard-of triumph ; he sang and played the great organ 
 at the same time. In St. Petersburg the young artist passed 
 some time as a guest at the Imperial Palace of Gatschina. 
 After remaining one year in Russia, he returned to Paris, 
 after which he again visited London. He then went to 
 Berlin, where his success surpassed that of any virtuoso 
 who had appeared in the German capital, and from Berlin 
 he was invited by King Albert of Saxony, the soldier- 
 musician, to dedicate the Queen's new music-room in the 
 Strelitz Palace. 
 
 But his most striking success was achieved during his 
 farewell visit to Paris, when the effect produced on the 
 minds of those who heard him at that time surpassed any- 
 thing ever experienced in the French capital. Lectures 
 were given to explain, from a theosophical point of view, 
 how one person, ignorant of the science of music, and with- 
 out musical instruction, could produce such a variety of 
 musical styles, startling effects, unheard-of combinations 
 of tone and harmony. Sully Prudhomme declared that he 
 could not find words in the French dictionary to express 
 the sentiments awakened in him by such a marvellous 
 performance, and Stephane Mallarme declared that here 
 was a prodigy who did with musical sounds, combinations, 
 and melodies what Poe did with the rhythm of words, and 
 that "for the first time in the history of music we now 
 have the real poet of the piano." 
 
 Mr. Grierson gave up music in the midst of his greatest 
 
viii PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION 
 
 triumphs ' ' to get down, ' ' as he said, ' ' to serious work. ' ' He 
 had been waiting patiently for the time to come when he 
 could give up amusing the world and begin to write some 
 of the sentiments, opinions, judgments which he had long 
 been hoarding up in silence. His musical career had been 
 but a schooling for the art of writing. It had been, indeed, as 
 Alexandre Dumas had hinted, a sort of magical power, not 
 only for the opening of doors in the social world, but the 
 opening of the doors of knowledge, the doors of fact as 
 opposed to illusion, reality as opposed to dreams and theo- 
 ries. He decided to make the long-contemplated plunge 
 into the sea of literature. He chose Paris for the experi- 
 ment, and French as the medium for his thought. The 
 volume was composed of critical essays, and after its ap- 
 pearance its author was hailed by academicians and criti- 
 cal writers as a prose writer of the first order. 
 
 Mr. Grierson's two volumes of essays in English — 
 "Modern Mysticism" and "The Celtic Temperament," 
 issued from Ruskin House — brought him immediate re- 
 cognition, not only as an original stylist but as a thinker 
 of the school of Maeterlinck. The present volume, a ven- 
 ture in a new field, will, it is hoped, win him many new 
 friends among American readers. 
 
THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 PROEM 
 
 In the late 'fifties the people of Illinois were being 
 prepared for the new era by a series of scenes and 
 incidents which nothing but the term " mystical " will 
 fittingly describe. 
 
 Things came about not so much by preconceived 
 method as by an impelling impulse. The appearance 
 of " Uncle Tom's Cabin " was not a reason, but an 
 illumination ; the founding of the Republican party 
 was not an act of political wire - pulling, but an 
 inspiration ; the great religious revivals and the 
 appearance of two comets were not regarded as 
 coincidences, but accepted as signs of divine prepara- 
 tion and warning. 
 
 The settlers were hard at work with axe and plough ; 
 yet, in spite of material pre-occupation, all felt the 
 unnameable influence of unfolding destiny. The social 
 cycle, which began with the Declaration of Inde- 
 pendence, was drawing to a close, and during 
 Buchanan's administration the collective consciousness 
 of men — that wonderful prescience of the national 
 soul — became aware of impending innovation and 
 upheaval. 
 
 It was impossible to tell what a day might bring 
 forth. The morning usually began with new hope 
 
 v.s. B 
 
2 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 and courage; but the evening brought back the old 
 silences, with the old, unsolved questionings, strange 
 presentiments, premonitions, sudden alarms. Yet 
 over and around all a kind of sub-conscious humour 
 welled up, which kept the mind hopeful while the 
 heart was weary. Dressed in butter-nut jeans, and 
 swinging idly on a gate, many a youth of the time 
 might have been pointed out as a likely senator, poet, 
 general, ambassador, or even president. Never was 
 there more romance in a new country. A great 
 change was coming over the people of the West. 
 They retained all the best characteristics of the 
 Puritans and the settlers of Maryland and Virginia, 
 with something strangely original and characteristic 
 of the time and place, something biblical applied to 
 the circumstances of the hour. 
 
 Swiftly and silently came the mighty influences. 
 Thousands laboured on in silence ; thousands were 
 acting under an imperative, spiritual impulse without 
 knowing it ; the whole country round about Spring- 
 field was being illuminated by the genius of one man, 
 whose influence penetrated all hearts, creeds, parties, 
 and institutions. 
 
 People were attracted to this region from Kentucky, 
 Missouri, Indiana, the shores of the Ohio, the British 
 Isles, France, and Germany. Other States had their 
 special attractions : Indiana, Kentucky, and Missouri 
 contained hills and forests, appealing to the eye by a 
 large and generous variation of landscape ; Iowa and 
 Kansas sloped upward toward the West, giving to the 
 mind an ever-increasing sense of hope and power. 
 To many, Illinois seemed the last and the least because 
 the most level. Only a poet could feel the charm of 
 
PROEM 3 
 
 her prairies, only a far-seeing statesman could predict 
 her future greatness. 
 
 The prairie was a region of expectant watchfulness, 
 and life a perpetual contrast of work and idleness, 
 hope, and misgiving. Across its bosom came the 
 covered wagons with their human freight, arriving 
 or departing like ships between the shores of strange, 
 mysterious worlds. 
 
 The early Jesuit missionaries often spoke of the 
 Illinois praii'ie as a sea of grass and flowers. A breeze 
 springs up from the shores of old Kentucky, or from 
 across the Mississippi and the plains of Kansas, 
 gathering force as the hours steal on, gradually 
 changing the aspect of Nature by an undulating 
 motion of the grass, until the breeze has become a 
 gale, and behold the prairie a rolling sea ! The 
 pennant-like blades dip before the storm in low, 
 rushing billows as of myriads of green birds skim- 
 ming the surface. The grassy blades bend to the 
 rhythm of Nature's music, and when clouds begin 
 to fleck the far horizon with dim, shifting vapours, 
 shadows as of long grey wings, swoop down over the 
 prairie, while here and there immense fleeting veils 
 rise and fall and sweep on towards the sky-line in 
 a vague world of mystery and illusion. 
 
 The prairies possessed a charm created by beauty 
 instead of awe ; for besides the countless wild flowers, 
 they had rivers, creeks, lakes, groves, and wooded 
 strips of country bordering the larger streams. 
 
 Everywhere, even in the most desolate places, at all 
 times and seasons, signs of life were manifest in the 
 traces, flights, and sounds of animals and birds. Over 
 the snow, when all seemed obliterated, appeared the 
 
 B 2 
 
4 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 track of the mink, fox, and chick-a-dee, while during 
 the greater part of the year the grass, woods, and air 
 were alive with winged creatures that came and went 
 in a perpetual chorus of audible or inaudible song. 
 
 The prairie was an inspiration, the humble settlers 
 an ever-increasing revelation of human patience and 
 progress. There was a charm in their mode of living, 
 and real romance in all the incidents and events of 
 that wonderful time. 
 
CHAPTEE I 
 
 THE MEETING-HOUSE 
 
 All through the winter the meeting-house on Saul's 
 Prairie had stood deserted and dormant, its windows 
 rattling in the bleak winds, perhaps longing for the 
 coming revivals and the living, vital sympathy of 
 beings '' clothed in garments divine " ; but now, how 
 different it looked on this wonderful Sunday morning, 
 with its door and windows wide open, the flowers in 
 bloom, and the birds perched on the tallest weeds 
 pouring forth their song ! The fleckless sky, and soft, 
 genial atmosphere had made of the desolate little 
 meeting-house and its surroundings a place that 
 resembled a second Garden of Eden. 
 
 How calm and beautiful was the face of Nature ! 
 The prairie here in Illinois, in the heart of Lincoln's 
 country, had a spirit of its own, unlike that of the 
 forest, and I had come to look upon the meeting- 
 house as a place possessing a sort of soul, a per- 
 sonality which made it stand out in my imagination as 
 being unique among all the meeting-houses I had ever 
 seen. It must, I thought, feel the states of the 
 weather and the moods of the people. 
 
 The settlers made their way to meeting in wagons, 
 on horseback and on foot ; and for nearly an hour 
 people straggled in. They came in family groups, 
 and a moment of excitement would be followed by a 
 period of impatient waiting. They came from the 
 
6 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 west, where a faint column of smoke rose in a zig- 
 zag in the warm, limpid atmosphere ; from the north, 
 where houses and cabins were hidden in groves or in 
 hollows ; from the south, where a forest of old oaks 
 and elms bordered the horizon with a belt of dark 
 green ; and from the east, where the rolling prairie 
 spread beyond the limits of vision, a far-reaching vista 
 of grass and flowers. 
 
 I had arrived early on my pony. Our neighbours 
 would be here, and I should see some of them for the 
 first time. 
 
 Silas Jordan and his wife, Kezia, were among the 
 first to arrive. He, small, thin, and shrivelled, with 
 wiry hair and restless nerves, had a face resembling a 
 spider's web ; cross-bars of crow's feet encircled two 
 small, ferret-like eyes, sunk deep in their sockets, out 
 of which he peered with eager suspicion at the 
 moving phenomena of the world. She, with that 
 deep glow that belongs to the dusk of certain days in 
 autumn, had jet-black hair, smoothed down till it 
 covered the tops of her ears ; her neck rose in a 
 column from between two drooping shoulders, and her 
 great languid eyes looked out on the world and the 
 people like stars from a saffron sunset. Dark and 
 dreamy, she seemed a living emblem of the tall, dark 
 flowers and the willows that bordered the winding 
 rivers and creeks of the prairies. 
 
 Then came the Busbys on a horse that " carried 
 double," Serena Busby wearing a new pink calico 
 dress and sun-bonnet, the colour clashing with her 
 reddish hair and freckled face. 
 
 When these had settled in their seats there came 
 one of those half- unearthly spells of silence and 
 
THE MEETING-HOUSE 7 
 
 waiting not unlike those moments at a funeral just 
 before the moiu'ners and the minister make their 
 appearance. 
 
 I had taken a seat inside for a while, but I slipped 
 out again just in time to see a man come loping along 
 on a small, shaggy horse, man and animal looking as 
 if they had both grown up on the prairie together. 
 It was Zack Caverly, nicknamed Socrates. Zack 
 was indeed a Socrates of the prairie as well in looks 
 as in speech, and the person who first called him after 
 the immortal sage had one of those flashes of inspi- 
 ration that come now and then to the scholar whose 
 cosmopolitan experience permits him to judge men by 
 a single phrase or a gesture. He tied his horse to a 
 hitching-post, then stood at the door waiting to see 
 what new faces would appear at the meeting. Here 
 he met his old acquaintance Silas Jordan. 
 
 The talk soon turned to personalities. 
 
 " Have ye heerd who them folks is down yander in 
 the Log-House ? " began Silas, alluding to the new 
 home of my parents. 
 
 " They air from the old kintry," Socrates answered, 
 his round eyes blinking in a manner not to be de- 
 scribed. 
 
 " Kinder stuck up for these diggin's, I'm thinkin'.'' 
 
 '' I 'low they ain't like us folks," was the careless 
 response. " They hed a heap o' hii-ed help whar they 
 come from." 
 
 " The Squar tole me hisself what kyounties he hez 
 lived in sence he come from the old kintry. He hez 
 lived in two kyounties in Missouri en in four kyounties 
 in Illinois, and now I reckon it's root hog or die ez fur 
 ez these diggins goes. It's his second trial on prairie 
 
8 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 land. He 'lows it'll be the last if things don't plough 
 up jest ez he's sot his mind te havin' 'em. He's 
 a-layin' in with the Abolitionists, and he voted oncet 
 fer Abe Lincoln, en he sez he air ready te do it 
 agin. 
 
 Socrates looked down the road, and exclaimed : 
 
 " Bless my stars ! if thar ain't Elihu Gest ! He's 
 got a stranger with him." 
 
 When Elihu Gest hitched his horse to the fence 
 Socrates greeted him : 
 
 " Howdy, howdy, Brother Gest. I war wonderin' 
 what hed become o' ye. Ain't seen ye in a coon's 
 age." 
 
 Elihu Gest was known as the " Load-Bearer." He 
 had earned this nickname by his constant efforts to 
 assume other people's mental and spiritual burdens. 
 The stranger he brought with him was the preacher. 
 
 " I war jes' wonderin' ez I come along," said the 
 Load-Bearer, " what the Know-nothin's en sech like 
 air a-goin' te do, seein' ez how Lincoln en Douglas air 
 dividin' the hull y earth a-twixt 'em." 
 
 " Providence created the Know-nothin's te fill 
 up the chinks," answered Zack Caver ly, "en ye 
 know it don't noways matter what ye fill 'em up 
 with." 
 
 " I 'low the chinks hez to be filled up somehow," 
 replied the Load-Bearer, " en a log-cabin air a mighty 
 good place te live in when a man's too pore te live in 
 a frame house." 
 
 " Thet's it ; them thar politicioners like Abe Lincoln 
 en Steve Douglas hev quit livin' in log-cabins, en 
 thar ain't no chinks fer the Know-nothin' party te fill," 
 said Socrates. 
 
THE MEETING-HOUSE 9 
 
 He had taken out a big jack-knife and was whittling 
 a stick. 
 
 " 'Pears like thar's allers three kyinds o' every- 
 thing — thar war the Whigs, the Demicrats, en the 
 Know-nothin's, en thar air three kyinds o' folks all 
 over this here kintry — the Methodists, the Hard- 
 shells, en them thet's saft at feedin'-time, plumb open 
 fer vittles en dead shet agin religion. Ez I war ex- 
 plainin' te Squar Briggs t'other day, in the heavings 
 thar air the sun, the moon, en the stars ; thet air three 
 kyinds agin. En whar hev ye ever see a kivered 
 wagin 'thout bosses, creatur's, en yaller dogs ? The 
 yaller dogs air steppin'-stones te the bosses, the bosses 
 comin' in right betwixt the varmints en human bein's, 
 which the Scriptur' sez air jest a leetle below the 
 angels. But ye'd never guess 'thout a heap o' cute 
 thinkin' thet a yaller dog could make hisself so kinder 
 useful like ez wal ez pertickler. Ez fer folks gen'ly, 
 thar air tkree kyinds — Yankees, niggers, en white 
 people." 
 
 " Ye don't calc'late te reckon niggers ez folks ! " 
 ejaculated Silas Jordan. 
 
 "They air folks jes like we air," said the Load- 
 Bearer, " en they hev souls te save. They air bein' 
 called on, but somehow the slave-owners ain't got no 
 ears fer the call." 
 
 "Wal," chimed in Socrates, "I ain't agin th' 
 Abolitionists, en up te now I ain't tuck much int'rest 
 in the argimints fer en ag'iust. I ain't called on fer te 
 jedge noways." He looked about him and continued : 
 *' They air talkin' 'bout freein' the niggers, but some o' 
 these here settlers ain't got spunk 'nough te choose 
 thar partner fer a dance, ner ile 'nough in thar j'ints te 
 
/ 
 
 10 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 bow in a ladies' chain. Mebbe arter all the niggers 
 air a sight better off 'n we uns air. They ain't got 
 no stakes in the groun'." 
 
 At this point there was a shuffling of feet and 
 spitting. Then his thoughts turned to the past. 
 
 " Afore Buchanan's election I hed all the fiddlin' I 
 could do, but when Pete Cartwright come along he 
 skeered 'em, en when the Baptists come they doused 
 'em in p'isen cold water, en now folks air predictin' the 
 end o' the world by this here comet.* I'll be doggoned 
 if I've drawed the bow oncet sence folks got skeered 
 plumb te thar marrer-bones ! T'other night when I 
 heerd sun thin' snap I warn't thinkin' o' the fiddle, en 
 when I tuck it down the nex' day jes' te fondle it a 
 leetle fer ole times' sake I see it war the leadin' string ; 
 en good, lastin' catgut air skase ez crowin' hens in 
 these 'ere parts." 
 
 Silas Jordan, returning to the subject of my parents, 
 remarked : 
 
 " I reckon them Britishers at the Log-House '11 
 hev te roll up en wade in if they want te git on in 
 this here deestric'." 
 
 Just then the talk was interrupted by the appearance 
 of the persons in question, and the crowd at the door 
 stared in silence as they walked in. When Silas 
 recovered his wits he continued his remarks : 
 
 " She's got on a store bunnit en he's got on a b'iled 
 shirt." To which Socrates replied, without evincing 
 the least surprise : 
 
 '' Tallest man I've seed in these parts 'cept Abe 
 Lincoln." 
 
 * Douati's great cornet. 
 
THE MEETING-HOUSE 11 
 
 There was a pause, during which the two men gazed 
 through the open door at the tall man who had passed 
 in and taken a seat. 
 
 There was something strangely foreign and remote 
 in the impression my parents produced at the meeting. 
 My mother wore a black silk gown and a black bonnet 
 with a veil ; the tall, straight figure of my father 
 appeared still taller with his long frock coat and high 
 collar, and his serious face and Roman nose gave him 
 something of a patriarchal look, although he was still 
 in the prime of life. The arrival of the family from 
 tlie Log-House caused a flutter of curiosity, but when 
 it was seen that the new-comers were devout wor- 
 shippers the congregation began to settle down to a 
 spirit of religious repose. ^ 
 
 It was a heterogeneous gathering : humorists who 
 were unconscious of their humour, mystics who did not 
 understand their strange, far-reaching power, senti- 
 mental dreamers who did their best to live down their 
 emotions, old-timers and cosmopolitans with a marvel- 
 lous admixture of sense and sentiment, political pro- 
 phets who could foresee events by a sudden, illu- 
 minating flash and foretell them in a sudden, pithy 
 sentence. It was a wonderful people, living in a 
 second Canaan, in an age of social change and upheaval, 
 in a period of political and phenomenal wonders. 
 
 A vague longing filled the hearts of the worshippers. 
 With the doubts and misgivings of the present, there 
 was a feeling that to-morrow would bring the realisa- 
 tion of all the yearnings and promises, and when the 
 preacher rose and announced that wistful old hymn : 
 
 '* In the Christian's home in glory 
 There remains a laud of rest," 
 
12 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 an instant change was produced in the faces of the 
 people. Silas Jordan led the singing in a high, shrill 
 voice which descended on the meeting like a cold blast 
 tlirough a broken window, but Uriah Busby, always 
 on the look-out for squalls, neutralised the rasping 
 sounds by his full, melodious waves. His voice gave 
 forth an unctuous security, not unmixed with a good 
 part of Christian gallantry. In it there was some- 
 thing hearty and fraternal ; it leavened conditions and 
 persons, and made the strangers feel at home. 
 
 If Uriah Busby's singing gave substance to the 
 meeting, that of Kezia Jordan gave expression to its 
 soul. In the second line her voice rose and fell like a 
 wave from the infinite depths, with something almost 
 unearthly in its tones, that seemed to bring forth the 
 yearnings of dead generations and the unfulfilled 
 desires of her pioneer parents. 
 
 A voice had been heard from behind the thin veil 
 that separates the two worlds. 
 
 My mother felt somewhat timid among so many 
 strangers. As she looked down at the hymn-book in 
 her hands, her brows, slightly elevated, gave to her 
 face an expression of pensive reverence. Kezia Jordan 
 had noticed two things about the new-comer : her 
 wonderful complexion and her delicate hands. Kezia 
 had as yet only glanced at the stranger; had she 
 heard her speak, she would have remembered her voice 
 as an influence going straight to the soul, touching at 
 the heart's secrets without naming them — a voice that 
 enveloped the listener as in a mantle of compassion, 
 with intonations suggestive of unaftected sympathy for 
 all in need of it. 
 
 My mother had often heard the old Methodist hymns, 
 
THE MEETING-HOUSE 13 
 
 but now for the first time she felt the difference between 
 the music of a trained choir and the effects produced 
 by the singing of one or two persons inspired by the 
 spirit of the time, hour, and place. Never had sacred 
 song so moved her. Kezia Jordan had infused into 
 two lines something which partook of revelation. The 
 words of the hymn, then, were true, and not a mere 
 juggling with sentiment. Here was an untrained 
 singer who by an unconscious effort revealed a truth 
 which came to the listener with the force of inexorable 
 law, for the words, '' there remains a land of rest," 
 came as a decree as well as a promise ; and my mother 
 now realised what life in the Log-House would be for 
 her. 
 
 A glance at the singer confirmed the impression 
 created by her singing. There, in her strange pro- 
 phetic features, shone the indelible imprints made by 
 the lonely years in the long and silent conflict ; there, 
 in Kezia Jordan's eyes, shone the immemorial memen- 
 toes of the ages gone, while the expression of her face 
 changed as the memories came and went like shadows 
 of silent wings over still, clear waters. 
 
 Prayers had been ofi'ered with more or less fervour ; 
 and now with awkward demeanour the preacher stood 
 up, his pale face and half-scared expression arousing 
 in the minds of many of the people no little curiosity 
 and some apprehension. 
 
 " Brethering and sistering," he began, in a rambling 
 way, "ye hev all heerd the rumours thet hez been 
 passed from mouth te mouth pertainin' te the signs 
 and wonders o' these here times. Folks's minds is 
 onsettled. But me en Brother Gest hev been wrastlin' 
 with the Sperit all night yander at his God-fearin' 
 
14 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 home ; we were wrastlin' fer a tex' fittin' this here 
 time en meetin', en it warn't till sommairs nigh mornin' 
 thet Brother Gest opened the Good Book, en p'intin' 
 his finger, sez : 'I hev found it ! Hallelujer ! ' It 
 war Isaiah, nineteenth chapter, twentieth verse." 
 
 Here the preacher opened the Bible. He read 
 slowly, emphasising certain words so that even the 
 most obtuse present might catch something of the 
 meaning. 
 
 " 'En it shell be fer a sign, Qnfer a witness unto 
 the Lord of hosts in the land of Egypt : fer they shell 
 cry unto the Lord bekase of the oppressors, en he 
 shell send them a saviour, en a great one, en he shell 
 deliver them.' " 
 
 He stopped a moment to let the congregation muse 
 on the text, and then proceeded : 
 
 *' It looked like when he put his finger on thet tex' 
 Brother Gest war changed ez in a twinklin', en our 
 watchin' en prayin' war over fer thet night. Brether- 
 ing, with the findin' o' thet tex' our troubles war gone, 
 en in thar place thar come te our innermost feelin's a 
 boundin' joy sech ez on'y them thet hez faith kin 
 know.' 
 
 Here he lost himself ; then, like a drowning man 
 who clutches at a straw, he seized hold of an old 
 hackneyed text, the first that came into his mind, 
 and continued regardless of consequences : 
 
 "Fer ez the Scriptur' sez, 'What came ye out fer 
 te see ? A reed shaken by the wind ? ' I 'low most o' 
 ye hez plenty reeds if ye're anywhars near a snipe 
 deestric', but I reckon ye ain't troubled much by 
 seein' 'em shake." 
 
 He began to regain confidence, and leaving reeds 
 
 ^ 
 
THE MEETING-HOUSE 15 
 
 he grappled with the earth and the heavens in periods 
 which carried everybody with him. 
 
 '' But thar ain't a sinner here, thar ain't no Christian 
 here to-day thet warn't plumb shuck up by thet 
 yearthquake t'other night thet rocked ye in yer beds 
 like ye were bein' rocked in a skiff in the waves 
 behind one o' them Mississippi stern-wheelers. No, 
 brethering, the Lord hez passed the time when He 
 shakes yer cornfields en yer haystacks by a leetle puff 
 o' wind. He hez opened the roof o' Heaven so ye 
 can all see what's a-comin'. He hez made it so all o' 
 ye, 'cept them thet's blind, kin say truly, ' I hev seen 
 if Under ye the yearth hez been shuck, over ye the 
 stars air beginnin' te shift en wander. A besom o' 
 destruction '11 overtake them thet's on the wrong side 
 in this here fight ! " 
 
 He eyed the people up and down on each side, and 
 then went on : 
 
 " But the tex' says, ' He shell send them a saviour, 
 en a great one, en he shell deliver them.' Now it air 
 jest ez plain ez the noonday sun thet the Lord 
 God app'ints His own leaders, en it air jest ez plain 
 thet His ch'ice ain't fell on no shufflin' backslider. 
 Ye kin bet all yer land en yer cattle en yer bosses on 
 this one preposition, en thet is ye cain't git away from 
 fac's by no cross-argimints thet many air called but 
 mighty few air chosen ; en thet means thet on'y one 
 man is 'p'inted te lead." 
 
 At this there was a visible change in the attitude 
 of many of the listeners. 
 
 "What air he a-comin' to ?" whispered old Lem 
 Stephens to Uriah Busby. 
 
 It was a bold stroke ; but Elihu Gest, the 
 
16 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 Load-Bearer, had won over the preacher to speak 
 out, and he was coming to the main point as fast as 
 an artless art and blunt but effective rhetoric would 
 let him. 
 
 He proceeded with his sermon, now bringing the 
 expectant people to the verge of the last period, now 
 letting them slip back as if he were giving them a 
 " breathing spell " to brace them for a still stronger 
 stage in the argument. It was wonderful how 
 this simple preacher, without education or training, 
 managed to keep the interest of the congregation at 
 boiling point for more than an hour before he pro- 
 nounced the two magical words that would unlock 
 the whole mystery of the discourse. Before him sat 
 old Whigs, Know-nothings and Democrats, Ee- 
 publicans, militant Abolitionists, and outspoken friends 
 of slave-owners in the South. But the Load-Bearer 
 was there, his eyes riveted on the speaker, every nerve 
 strung to the utmost pitch, assuming by moral com- 
 pact the actual responsibility of the sermon. If the 
 preacher failed Elihu Gest would assume his loads ; if 
 the sermon was a triumph he would share in the 
 preacher's triumph. 
 
 As the sermon drew to a close it became evident 
 that by some queer, roundabout way, by some process 
 of reasoning and persuasion that grew upon the people 
 like a spell, they were listening, and had all along 
 been listening, to a philippic against slavery. 
 
 At last the preacher's face lost its timorous look. 
 With great vehemence he repeated the last part of his 
 text : 
 
 " ' Fer they shell cry unto the Lord bekase of the 
 oppressors, en he shell send them a saviour, en a 
 
THE MEETING-HOUSE 17 
 
 great one,' " — here he struck the table a violent blow 
 — '"en he shell deliver them ! ' " 
 
 There was a moment of bewilderment and suspense, 
 during which Lem Stephens was preparing for the 
 worst. His mouth, usually compressed to a thin, 
 straight slit, was now stiffened by a bull-dog jaw 
 which he forced forward till the upper lip had almost 
 disappeared ; Minerva Wagner sat rigid, her mummy- 
 like figure encased in whalebone WTapped in linsey- 
 woolsey. 
 
 The preacher gave them no rest : 
 
 "Now right here I want ye all te ask yerselves 
 who it air thet's a-cryin' fer deliverance. Who air 
 it?" he shouted. "Why, thar ain't but one people 
 a-cryin' fer deliverance, en they air the slaves down 
 thar in Egypt ! " 
 
 The words fell like a muffled blow in the silence. 
 Lem Stephens sat forward, breathless ; Uriah Busby 
 heaved a long sigh ; fire flashed from Mrs. Wagner's 
 grey, faded eyes ; Ebenezer Hicks turned in his seat, 
 his bushy eyebrows lowering to a threatening frown ; 
 while the face of Socrates wore a look of calm and 
 neutral cui'iosity. 
 
 But hardly had the meeting realised the full force 
 of the last words when the preacher put the final 
 questions : 
 
 " En who shell deliver them ? Do any o' ye 
 know ? Brethering, thar ain't but one human 
 creatur' ekil to it, en thet air Abraham Lincoln. 
 The Lord hez called him ! " 
 
 An electrical thrill passed through the meeting. A 
 subtle, permeating power took possession of the con- 
 gregation, for the preacher had pronoimced the first 
 
 v.s. 
 
18 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 half of the name, Abraham, in such a way that it 
 seemed as if the patriarch of Israel was coming once 
 more in person to lead the people. An extraordinary 
 influence had been evoked ; a living investment of 
 might and mystery, never at any time very distant, 
 was now close at hand. 
 
 Ebenezer Hicks rose, and casting a fierce glance 
 about him hurried out ; Minerva "Wagner sprang 
 from her seat like an automaton suddenly moved by 
 some invisible force and left the meeting, followed by 
 her two tall, lank sons ; Lem Stephens hurried after 
 them, and with each step gave vent to his feelings by 
 a loud thump on the bare floor with his wooden leg. 
 When he got to the door he cast one last withering 
 look at the preacher. 
 
 But Uriah Busby's voice rang out loud and 
 sonorous : 
 
 " How tedious and tasteless the hours 
 When Jesus no longer I see." 
 
 The old hymn was taken up by Kezia Jordan in the 
 next line. Once more her voice filled the meeting- 
 house with golden waves, once more every heart beat 
 in. unison, and every soul communed in an indescrib- 
 able outpouring of religious melody. 
 
 The whole congregation was singing now. With 
 Kezia' s voice a balm of Gilead came pouring over the 
 troubled waters created by the strange, prophetic and 
 menacing sermon. The Load-Bearer, with hardly 
 voice enough to speak aloud, was singing ; the preacher 
 sang even louder than he had preached ; Serena 
 Busby sang as I never heard her sing again ; and 
 while those who had left the meeting were about to 
 
THE MEETING-HOUSE 19 
 
 depart they heard what they would never hear repeated. 
 The opportunity to join hands with the coming power 
 had passed, and as they set out for home they must 
 have been haunted by the matchless magic and 
 simplicity of the words and music, and more than ever 
 would the coming houi'S seem " tedious and tasteless " 
 to them. 
 
 c 2 
 
CHAPTEE II 
 
 THE LOAD-BEARER 
 
 "We had been four months in the Log-House and 
 my mother was just beginning to feel at home when 
 one afternoon, as I was sauntering along the road near 
 the gate, I saw a man on foot coming from the south. 
 
 As he approached I noticed that his features had a 
 peculiar cast, his hair was rather long, his movements 
 somewhat slow, and when he arrived in front of the 
 gate he squared about and stopped with a sort of jerk, 
 as if he had been dreaming but was now awake and 
 conscious that this was the place he had come to visit. 
 He peered at the Log-House as though awaiting some 
 interior impulse to move him to further action ; then 
 he opened the gate, and, walking through the yard to 
 the front door, rapped lightly. 
 
 I had followed him in, and when my mother opened 
 the door and the stranger said, in a listless sort of 
 way, " I jes' called to see how ye're gettin' on," I 
 saw it was Elihu Gest, the Load-Bearer. 
 
 My mother thanked him, invited him in, and offered 
 him a chair. 
 
 " I 'low ye're not long settled in this 'ere section," 
 he said, taking a seat. 
 
 " Not long," she answered ; "we are quite settled 
 in the house, but on the farm my husband has so 
 much to do he hardly knows where to begin." 
 
 She placed the kettle on the stove for coffee, and 
 
THE LOAD-BEARER 21 
 
 busied herself about getting the strange visitor some 
 substantial refreshment. I thought I had never seen 
 a face more inscrutable. He eyed my mother with 
 grave interest, and after a silence that lasted some 
 considerable time he said : 
 
 " If yer loads is too heavy jes' cast 'em off ; the 
 Lord is willin' en I ain't noways contrary." 
 
 Not till now did she realise that this was the man 
 she had heard so much about ; but not knowing just 
 what to say, she gave no answer. 
 
 As he sat and stared at my mother his presence 
 diffused a mysterious influence. My mind was busy 
 with queries : Who sent him ? What are his loads ? 
 Why does he take such an interest in my mother ? 
 And I thought she must be giving him coffee and 
 eatables the better to enable him to support his loads, 
 whatever they might be. She placed the coffee and 
 other good things on the table and cordially invited 
 the stranger to make himself at home. After pouring 
 out a cup of coff'ee she sat down with folded hands, 
 her pale face more pensive than usual, making some 
 remarks about the weather and the good prospects for 
 the new settlers. 
 
 Elihu Gest sat, a veritable sphinx of the prairie, 
 wrapped in his own meditations. She almost feared 
 that his visit might be a portent of some coming 
 calamity, and that he had come to warn her and help 
 her to gather force and courage for the ordeal. 
 
 Yet there was something in his look which inspired 
 confidence and even cheerfulness, and she concluded it 
 was good to have him sitting there. He began to sip 
 his coffee, and at last, as if waking from a reverie, he 
 put the question : 
 
22 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 " How air ye feelin' in sperit ? " 
 
 "The Lord has been merciful," she replied, the 
 question having come as an immediate challenge to 
 her religious faith and courage. 
 
 " Yer coffee is mos' appetizin'," he said, with a 
 slight sniff. 
 
 " I am glad you like it, and I hope you are feeling 
 rested, for you seem to have come a long way." 
 
 " They's a powerful difference a-twixt a mile and 
 what a man's thinkin'. When yer mind is sot on one 
 thing the distance a-twixt two places ain't much 
 noways." 
 
 " Do you always walk ? " she asked sympathetically. 
 
 "It's accordin' te how the hoss is feelin'. If the 
 beast's anyways contrary he gives a snort, ez much ez 
 te say, ' Mebbe I'll carry ye en mebbe I won't ' ; but 
 when he snorts and kicks both te oncet thet means 
 he'll kick the hind sights off all creation if I try te 
 ride him. I've seen him when Joshua en his trumpet 
 couldn't git him outen the barn door. I don't believe 
 in workin' dumb critters when their sperits air droopin'. 
 I'm allers more contented when I'm 'bleeged te walk ; 
 en bosses air powerful skase." 
 
 " Necessity compels us to do many things that 
 seem impossible, but we learn to accept them as the 
 best things for us. Won't you have some more 
 coffee ? " 
 
 " Yer coffee is mos' appetizin', it is so." 
 
 " And won't you eat something ? " 
 
 "I'm much obleeged, but I don't feel no cravin' 
 fer vittles. Accordin' te Sister Jordan, yer cakes en 
 pies beats all she ever see." 
 
 " Mrs. Jordan is a very good woman." 
 
THE LOAD-BEARER 23 
 
 '' She is so ; I've knowed her from away back." 
 
 There came another pause, during which the visitor 
 looked straight before him. lost in thought. Presently 
 he began : 
 
 " Thet comet's convicted a good many folks. 
 Ebenezer Hicks war skeered half to death when he 
 see it a-comin', makin' the loads mos' heavy fer his 
 pore wife." 
 
 Then, addressing my mother, he continued : 
 
 " The night he war 'flicted, I couldn't git te sleep 
 nohow. I sez to myself, ' Thar's an axle-tree wants 
 ilein', en I'll be blamed if it ain't over te Ebenezer 
 Hicks's.' I went te the barn te see how the hoss war 
 feelin', en J sez, ' Kin ye carry me over te Ebenezer 
 Hicks's if I saddle ye ? ' But Henry Clay give a 
 kick thet sot me wonderin' how I war ever goin' te 
 git thar." 
 
 " Many people think the end of the world is at 
 hand," said my mother. 
 
 "They do, fer a fact." 
 
 He paused a moment, then went on : 
 
 " But them thet's skeered air folks without faith. 
 I ain't got no call fer te take loads from folks what's 
 skeered. Summow I cain't carry 'em." 
 
 " The burdens of life are, indeed, hard to bear alone." 
 
 " They air so ; en 'twixt you and me, marm, I'm 
 jest a might onsartin 'bout what it air 'flicts some 
 folks. 'Pears like Satan skeers more folks 'n is ever 
 won over by the Lord's goodness en mercy. Them 
 thet's allers a-tremblin' ain't much account when it 
 comes te strappin' the beUy-band real hard ; they 
 don't never set tight in the saddle when they're called 
 on te go plumb through a wilderness o' thistles." 
 
J 
 
 24 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 After meditating again for a time, he resumed : 
 
 " But Ebenezer Hicks warn't a patchin' on Uriah 
 Busby what lives yander at Black B'ar Creek. He 
 war so skeered he sot to weepin' when he see me 
 come in, en I never see a woman ez hoppin' mad ez 
 Sereny Busby ! I couldn't take no loads from 
 Brother Busby ; accordin' te my notion, he warn't 
 settin' up under none, en jest ez soon ez I sot eyes on 
 Sister Busby I see she hedn't hitched up to nothin' of 
 any heft neither. She don't set still long enough. I 
 'low I war some dis'p'inted." 
 
 He laughed faintly ; perhaps he wished to convey 
 the impression that the burdens of life were not so 
 dreadful, after all. 
 
 " I fear you had your trouble all for nothing," said 
 my mother. 
 
 "Ye see. Brother Busby war skeered, en Sister 
 Busby got her dander up. I never knowed a woman 
 with red hair that war af eared of man or beast." 
 
 " Mr. Busby must have been very much frightened," 
 remarked my mother, smiling. 
 
 " Not so skeered but what he could talk. Si 
 Jordan had his speech tuck plumb away, en I never 
 see Sister Jordan so flustered. But she don't say 
 much nohow. Sereny Busby she keeps the top 
 a-spinnin' the livelong day. But I hev seen Uriah 
 Busby caved in more'n oncet. I knowed 'em both 
 afore they war married. If I wanted a woman, 
 sprightly with her tongue ez well ez with her hands, 
 I'd take Sereny Busby fer fust ch'ice ; if I wanted a 
 woman what knows a heap en sez mos' nothin', I'd 
 take Kezia Jordan. Human natur' ain't allers the 
 same. I 'low Sister Busby's got the most eddication." 
 
THE LOAD-BEARER 26 
 
 '^ But education never helps much if the heart is 
 not in the right place." 
 
 "Thet thar's what I've allers said. Tears like 
 sometimes Sereny Busby's heart's jest a leetle lop- 
 sided en wants re-settin', ez ye might say. But 
 thar's a sight o' difference atwixt one load en another. 
 When I set with some folks what's in a heap o' 
 trouble, I go away ez happy ez kin be, but when I 
 hev te go away without ary a load, I feel mos' 
 empty." 
 
 Here there was another spell of silence, but after a 
 few sips from a third cup of coffee he continued : 
 
 " 'Pears like thar warn't never no heft te Sereny 
 Busby's troubles. She don't give 'em no chance te 
 set ; en jest ez a duck's back goes agin water, her'n 
 is set agin loads." 
 
 " The Lord has given her a cheerful mind ; T think 
 she has much to be thankful for." 
 
 " She hez, fer a fact. But I never kin tell jes' how 
 her mind is a-workin'. She steps roun' ez spry ez kin 
 be, hummin' fiddle tunes mos'ly ; en when Brother 
 Busby tuck te bed with thet fever what's mos' killed 
 him, she kept on a-hummin', en some folks would 
 a-said she war triflin', but she warn't. She give 
 Uriah his med'cine mos' reg'lar, en mopped his head 
 with cold water from the well, en made him appetizin' 
 rabbit soup. The Bible sez the sperit's willin' but 
 the flesh is weak, but I don't see no failin' in a 
 woman thet kin hum all day like a spinnin'-top. 
 . . . But I allers kin tell what Kezia Jordan is 
 a-thinkin', en thar ain't no two ways 'bout it; Sister 
 Jordan kin sing hymns so ye want te give right up en 
 die, ye feel so happy." 
 
26 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 '' She has something wonderful in her voice when 
 she sings," said my mother ; "I felt that when I 
 heard her sing' ' in meeting.' " 
 
 " I low Si Jordan ain't pertickler benev'lent, but 
 Kezia Jordan counts fer more'n one in that 'ar house." 
 
 " I fear she has had a life of much care and trouble, 
 and perhaps that is one reason why she is so good." 
 
 " Folks is born like we find 'em, marm. I've been 
 nigh on thirty year wrastlin' with the sorrows o' life, 
 en I ain't seen ary critter change his spots. A wolf 
 don't look like a wild cat, en I never see a fox with a 
 bob tail ; en folks air like varmints : God Almighty 
 hez marked 'em with His seal." 
 
 He looked round the room abstractedly, and then 
 said : 
 
 " It's looks thet tells when a man's in trouble ; en 
 a heap o' tribulation keeps folks from hollerin'. 
 Sister Jordan hez knowed trouble from away back. 
 But thar's a tremenjous difference a-twixt her en Si 
 Jordan. He kin talk en pray when he gits a-goin', 
 en I've beared him when it looked like his flow o' 
 words would swamp the hull endurin' meetin' ; but 
 when the risin' settled, thar warn't much harm done 
 no way. But jes' let Sister Jordan sing a hymn, en 
 ye feel like the hull yearth war sot in tune." 
 
 " That is because she is so sincere," observed my 
 mother, gravely. 
 
 "Thet's a fact. I ain't never forgot the time when 
 I hed thet spell o'sickness en felt ezif thar war nothin' 
 wuth a-livin' fer. What with sickness, en the defeat 
 o' Fremont, en them desperadoes cuttin' up over in 
 Kansas, en the goin's on o' them Demicrats in Spring- 
 field, 'peared like I never would be good fer nothin' 
 
THE LOAD-BEARER 27 
 
 moro. All te oncet the fcelin' come over me te go over 
 te Kezia Jordan's. Thet ud be 'bout ez much ez I could 
 do, seein' I war like a chicken what's jes' pecked its 
 way through the shell, I hedn't got ez fur ez the 
 kitchen door when I beared her a-singin' : 
 
 " ' Come thou Fount of every blessin', 
 Tune my heart te sing Thy praise.' 
 
 '' Thet voice o' her'n set me a-cryin', en I sot right 
 down on the door-steps, en thanked God fer all His 
 goodness. Ai'ter a while, she come out fer a bucket 
 o' water. 
 
 " ' Good Land ! ' she sez; ' I'm right glad te see ye. 
 Go right in ; ye're jest in time fer dinner ; I've got 
 some real nice prairie chicken en pum'kin pie ; 
 everything's 'mos' ready.' 
 
 " Soon as I went in she sez : 
 
 "'Mercy on us, Elihu! I never see ye look so! Set 
 right down, en tell me what ails ye ; ye ain't been 
 sick 'thout lettin' me know, hev ye ? ' " 
 
 " I like to have such a good Christianas my nearest 
 neighbour," said my mother, with much feeling. 
 
 " I allow she warn't allers a Christian. I war over 
 at Carlinville when she heard Pete Cartwright fer the 
 fust time, en the meetin'-house warn't big enough te 
 hold the people. Sister Jordan warn't moved te sing 
 any durin' the fust hymn, but she j'ined in the second, 
 en arter thet Brother Cartwright tuck right holt, ez 
 ye might say, en swung 'em till their feet tetched 
 perdition. 
 
 '' ' Yo're ripe,' he sez, holdin' out his fist, ' yo're 
 ripe, like grain waitin' fer the reaper ! Yell be 
 mowed down, en the grain Tl be plumb divided from 
 
28 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 the chaff, en the Christians '11 be parted from the 
 sinners.' 
 
 " The hull meetin' began to move like wheat 
 a-wavin' in the wind. The preacher knowed Kezia 
 Jordan fer a nat'ral-born Christian by her singin, 
 fer he p'inted straight, en sez : 
 
 '" Ye're at the cross-roads, sister; ye'll hev te 
 > choose one or t'other ; en the years en the months air 
 gone fer most o' ye, en thar's on'y this here hour left 
 fer te choose. Which will it be ? Will it be the road 
 thet leads up yander, or the one thet leads down by the 
 dark river whar the willers air weepin' night en day ? ' 
 
 " This war the turnin' p'int fer a good many ; but 
 the preacher warn't satisfied yet. He rolled up en 
 went te work in dead arnest. He told 'bout the fust 
 coon hunt he ever see : 
 
 " ' Sinners,' he sez, * is jes' like the coon asleep in 
 thet tree — never dreamin' o' danger. But the varmint 
 war waked all on a sudden by a thunderin' smell o' 
 smoke, en hed te take te the branches. Someone 
 climbs up the tree en shakes the branch whar the 
 coon is holdin' on.' En' right here Pete Cartwright 
 slung his handkerchief over his left arm en sez, ' A 
 leetle more, a leetle more, a 1-e-e-e-tle more en the 
 varmint's bound te drap squar' on the dogs.' He 
 shuck his arm three times — down, down, down, he 
 sez, lettin' the handkerchief drap, ' down te whar the 
 wailin' en gnashin' air a million times more terrible 
 'n the sufferin's o' thet coon.' " 
 
 The Load-Bearer bent forward and his face assumed 
 a look of tragic intensity as he continued : 
 
 " A veil o' mournin' war a-bein' pulled down over 
 the meetin'. He war takin' the people straight te 
 
THE LOAD-BEARER 29 
 
 jedgment, like a flock o' sheep, with the goats a- 
 followin', usin' no dividin' line, for he put it to 'em : 
 
 " ' Whar would ye all be if this here floor war te 
 slide right from under ye, leavin' ye settin' on the 
 brink, with Time on one side en Etarnity on t'other ? ' 
 " The hull meetin' war shuck te pieces, some hollerin', 
 some too 'flicted te set up ; en I see nigh on twenty 
 plumb fainted en gone." 
 
 Elihu Gest sighed as he sat back in his chair, and 
 proceeded in his usual way : 
 
 " When the meetin' war over I sez te Sister Jordan, 
 ' How air ye feelin' in sperit ? ' En she sez, ' I've 
 had more'n enough o' this world's goods ! ' 
 " ' I want te know ! ' sez I. 
 
 "'Yes,' she sez, 'I don't never want no more.' 
 En I see it war for everlastin'." 
 No one spoke for a long time. 
 At last he rose from his chair and moved towards 
 the door like one in a dream, his face wearing a look 
 of almost superhuman detachment. 
 
 Then, just before passing out, he turned and said, 
 " I'll bid ye good-day, fer the present." 
 This visit made the day a memorable one for me, 
 for I saw in Elihu Gest a human wonder ; he opened 
 up a world of things and influences about which I had 
 never dreamed. And when he had disappeared down 
 the road to the south, the way he had come, I 
 wondered how he was carrying his loads, what they 
 could be, and whether my mother felt relieved of any 
 of her burdens. But I held my peace, while she 
 simply remarked : 
 
 " A very strange but very good man. I wonder if 
 we shall ever see him again ? '' 
 
80 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 Here was a man who did everything by signs, 
 tokens, impressions ; who was moved by some power 
 hidden from the understanding of everyone else — a 
 power which none conld define, concerning which 
 people had long since ceased to question. He came 
 and went, influenced by signs in harmony with his 
 own feelings and moods, by natural laws shut off from 
 our understanding by the imperative rules of conven- 
 tional religion and society. Things which were sealed 
 mysteries to us were finger-posts to him, pointing the 
 way across the prairies, in this direction or in that. 
 Is it time to go forth ? He would look up at the 
 heavens, sense the state of Nature by the touch of the 
 breeze, sound the humour of the hour with a plumb- 
 line of his own, then set out to follow where it led. 
 
 The Load-Bearer's presence, his odd appearance, 
 his descriptions and peculiar phrases, his spells of 
 "*" silence, his sudden enthusiasms, the paradox of humour 
 and religious feeling displayed, brought to our home 
 the fervour and candour of the meeting-house — honest 
 pioneer courage and frankness, and, above all, an 
 influence that left on me an impression never to be 
 effaced. How far, how very far, we were from the 
 episcopal rector, with his chosen words, studied 
 phrases, and polite and dignified sympathy ! How 
 far it all was from anything my parents had ever 
 dreamed of even in so remote a country ! The prairie 
 was inhabited by a people as new and strange as the 
 country itself. 
 
 And what a gulf there was between the customs of 
 the old country and the customs usual in the new 
 "West ! Visitors appeared unannounced and at almost 
 any hour. To-day a neighbour would come two miles 
 
THE LOAD-BEARER 81 
 
 to borrow some sugar ; to-morrow another would 
 come still farther to borrow tea or coffee. All were 
 received as if they were old and tried friends. My 
 mother attended to the wants of those who came to 
 boiTOw things for the table, while my father did his 
 best to satisfy the men who came to borrow ploughs, 
 spades, saws, wagons, and even horses. 
 
 For the neighbours considered my father a rich 
 man, judging him by the horses, sheep and cattle he 
 owned. And when he appeared at meetings, wearing 
 a handsome velvet waistcoat with rich blue checks — 
 one of the waistcoats he purchased during his visit to 
 Paris before his marriage — they thought him richer 
 still. 
 
 Thus are appearances even more deceptive and 
 dangerous than words, for all, without exception, are 
 judged by the illusions produced by property and 
 personal attire. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 THE LOG-HOUSE 
 
 The Log-House was built some twenty-five years 
 before we came to live in it, but we never knew who 
 planted the trees and flowers. Surely it must have 
 been a lover of Nature, for these we know by the little 
 signs and tokens they leave behind them. Certain 
 flowers were omitted, such as the rose, the flower of 
 fashion and convention, the one with least suggestive 
 influence on the heart and the aff'ections, for it always 
 turns the thoughts on more personal and worldly things. 
 
 There is a law of correspondence, a kind of secret 
 code proper for each condition of life, and people 
 become distorted and confused when this law is ignored. 
 How often I wanted to know who planted these 
 flowers ! I thought I could guess how the woman 
 looked — for it certainly was a woman — and I fancied 
 I could see her arriving here from the South with her 
 husband, the couple intent on leading a quiet life, the 
 husband raising stock instead of wheat and corn, the 
 wife attending to household duties and to the planting 
 and watering of the flowers — the old familiar ones 
 which harmonised with the prairie and the inmost 
 instincts of the soul. 
 
 I seem to see a tall, spare woman, with a pensive 
 face, as silent and psychic as Kezia Jordan, planting 
 the flowers in the first warm spell of the first April, 
 in the evenings, after supper, when the earth that had 
 
THE LOG-HOUSE 33 
 
 waited her coming for ceons and teons yielded up 
 the fragrance of that marvellous loam composed of 
 withered grass and flowering weeds. Her husband is 
 seated in an old rocking-chair in the kitchen getting 
 all the music he can out of a raspy fiddle, a blood- 
 hound lying on the floor beside him. The wife plants 
 only those flowers that have wistful eyes and homely 
 souls, and with every one a thought goes out that fills 
 a void between the past and the present, as she says 
 to herself: "That is the way they were at home." 
 For the silent figure, intent on digging with her own 
 hands the holes for the seeds and young plants, is 
 thinking of one who planted flowers of the same kind 
 years before, far away in another part of the country. 
 And so she works through the warm evenings, placing 
 each thing, not according to any rule of art, but accord- 
 ing to memory and the promptings of instinct. For 
 the yard around the Log-House was not disfigured 
 with walks made by measure and strewn with sand 
 and shells. Everything grew as if by nature, and 
 this freedom gave the place a character of its own 
 which the slightest show of conventional art would 
 have made impossible. The sweet-william grew in 
 great high bunches, interlaced with the branches of 
 other shrubs, and the gympsum-weed and sumac were 
 not far off, under which the chickens stood and cleaned 
 their feathers, and where, on rainy days, they lent an 
 air of gloom to the surroundings. 
 
 And now that the silent figure has planted the 
 summer flowers, she thinks of the last and most im- 
 portant of all, the morning-glory. This she places at 
 each side of the north door, where in the future it will 
 be the only green thing on that side of the house, 
 
 v.s. D 
 
34 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 excepting one large locust tree. But the morning- 
 glory ! With what care she waters the plant when the 
 ground is dry, and how she looks forward to the day 
 when it will be full of bloom, covering each side of 
 the door, reminding her of the old homestead and 
 absent friends ! 
 
 And thus the last planting is done, and she steps 
 inside and sits down beside her husband, musing for 
 awhile, as my own mother would now do before 
 beginning some new work. 
 
 How does it happen that between people who are 
 strangers to one another there should be a connecting 
 link of sympathy, forged by little acts like the plant- 
 ing of a certain flower, at a special time, in a special 
 place ? Perhaps there is a secret and invisible agree- 
 ment between certain persons and places, a definite 
 meaning in the coming and going of certain persons 
 we have never seen, and that nothing is wholly futile. 
 However it may be, the flower that was planted on 
 the north side of the house by someone years before 
 seemed planted there as much for my special benefit as 
 for anyone else's. 
 
 One day, after breakfast, my attention was arrested 
 by a sight which gave me a thrill of admiration. 
 The morning-glories were in bloom ! There they 
 were, like a living vision, revealing to me something 
 in the kingdom of flowers I had never seen or felt 
 before. The radiant days of summer had decked the 
 Log-House with a mantle more beautiful than any 
 worn by the Queen of Sheba or by Solomon when he 
 received her. And now, as the days were growing 
 more languid and the evenings more wistful, autumn, 
 with her endless procession of far, faint shadows, 
 
THE LOG-HOUSE 86 
 
 would steal across the threshold under a canopy of 
 infinite and indescribable colour. 
 
 How the spell of their magic changed the appear- 
 ance of the house ! The flowers looked out on sky 
 and plain with meek, mauve-tinted eyes, after having 
 absorbed all the amaranth of a cloudless night, the 
 aureole of early morning, and a something, I know 
 not what, that belongs to dreams and distance wafted 
 on waves of colour from far-away places. At times the 
 flowers imparted to the rugged logs the semblance of 
 a funeral pyre, their beauty suggesting the mournful 
 pomp of some martyr-queen, with pale, wondering 
 eyes, awaiting the torch in a pallium of purple. They 
 gave to the entrance a sort of halo that symbolised 
 the eternal residuum of all things mortal and visible. 
 
 How impressive around the Log- House was that 
 hour of the evening when, just after sundown, the 
 birds, the chickens, and the turkeys began to seek a 
 resting-place for the night ! With the gradual dying 
 away of sound and movement, everything was tinged 
 with mourning. When at last, with the slow fading 
 twilight, the fluttering of wings and chirping ceased, 
 a vague stillness evoked a feeling of mystery that 
 spread over the house and everything around it. 
 
 Now and again the quiet was broken by the sharp 
 whiz of insects darting here and there through the 
 gloaming, the cry of the whip-poor-will, as it flitted 
 between the house and the hollow, or the far, lone- 
 some call of the hoot-owl, followed by a puff of wind, 
 the rustling of grass, and a period of nameless unrest, 
 during which the crickets and the katy-dids began 
 their long, languid litanies of the night. 
 
 Then, on certain evenings, a faint glow in the east 
 
 D 2 
 
86 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 would appear, and above the horizon the dawn of 
 moonrise gradually illumined the borders of the 
 wilderness. In a few moments more an immense 
 crimson disc looked out on the silence from behind 
 great sheets of blood-red clouds, presently merging 
 into amber, with stripes of silver and gold. But 
 these colours would soon give place to a serene glow, 
 and from that time until daybreak all Nature was 
 wrapped in phantasmal twilight, the Log-House loom- 
 ing like a spectral silhouette in the silver light, its 
 rugged logs heaped together like something in a 
 dream, on the borders of a world apart, haunted by 
 gliding shadows and illusive sounds. 
 
 Inside the house, after supper, when everything 
 was put in order for the night, the stillness was 
 oppressive, for the quiet was not that of repose. It 
 suggested an immense and immeasurable sadness, and 
 my mother would sit knitting in silence, with thoughts 
 of the far-absent ones. About ten o'clock my father 
 would read the evening prayers from the Anglican 
 Prayer-book, with the whole family kneeling, and I 
 wondered what efficacy written prayers could have. 
 But whenever I heard my mother utter the words: 
 " May the Lord in His goodness have mercy on us ! " 
 I felt an instant accession of power. The words, 
 coming from that magical voice, unlocked the 
 reservoirs of the infinite, and faith came rushing 
 through the flood-gates. They brought a presence 
 which filled the house with hope and comfort. I 
 was satisfied without being able to explain why. There 
 were moments when she seemed to bring a super- 
 human power to the threshold of the Log-House 
 beyond which danger and despair could not enter. 
 
THE LOG-HOUSE 87 
 
 She had implicit faith in what she called tlie 
 "Promises." "The Lord in His mercy will never 
 permit it," she used to say when a calamity seemed 
 inevitable ; and with all her sorrows the irreparable 
 never happened. Faith and prayer form a bulwark 
 around the lives of some people through which no 
 permanent misfortune ever penetrates. 
 
 Sometimes, after the evening prayers, the house 
 became subdued to a stillness which produced the 
 effect of someone having crept in by stealth. The 
 flames had gone from the logs ; the embers were 
 smouldering into ashes ; the light and sparkle had 
 turned to something that resembled audible thought. 
 This was the hour when the things which during the 
 day gave forth no noticeable sound now seemed to 
 speak or to chant. The stroke of the old clock, with 
 its long pendulum, went like a plummet to the depths 
 of the soul. It brought forth that part of Nature 
 which is hidden from our sight by a thin veil behind 
 which we can sometimes hear the voices on the other 
 side. The cry of the cricket was that of a tiny 
 friend, affecting only the smallest nerves of silence, 
 but the solemn tones of the time-piece accentuated 
 our isolation. Some clocks are nervous and rasping, 
 others emit a tone of hope and serenity, but the one 
 in the Log-House had a deep, portentous tone which 
 filled one with a sense of the hollowness of things, the 
 futility of effort, a consciousness of days and nights 
 continually departing, of vanishing memories, and of 
 people passing into lonely, isolated and everlasting 
 dreams. A great gulf now separated us from the rest 
 of the world, and my mother sat like one under a 
 spell. 
 
38 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 About midnight the stillness became an obsession. 
 All Natui'e was steeped in an atmosphere of palpable 
 quiet, teeming with dismal uncertainty and sombre 
 forebodings. The flickering of a tallow candle added 
 something ghostly to the room with its dark mahogany 
 furniture, while every unfamiliar sound outside 
 startled the members of the family who were still 
 awake. The doleful duets of the katy-dids often 
 came to a sudden stop, and during the hush it 
 seemed as if anything might happen — the apparition 
 of a phantom, or the arrival of a band of masked 
 marauders. An owl would visit the solitary locust 
 tree which stood between the north door and the barn, 
 and its weird calls sent a shiver through the night. 
 The first note had an indescribable quality, and the 
 series of half- veiled trumpet calls that followed pro- 
 duced on me a sensation never to be forgotten. They 
 sounded like nothing else in Nature, and came to me 
 as a lament from some waif of the wilderness. 
 
 " Hear me, hear me, inhabitants of the Log-House ! 
 Is solitude now your portion ? " 
 
 Again, in the dead of night, some animal would 
 carry off a fowl, and the long-drawn-out "caws" 
 came like the cries of a child for help, growing less 
 and less distinct, and at last dying away in the dis- 
 tance as the animal passed the barn and began the 
 descent into the hollow towards the woods. The 
 effect on me was one of nervous apprehension. It 
 was the mystery which added a nameless dread to a 
 mere incident of the night. 
 
 On stormy nights in the autumn the north wind 
 brought with it voices that moaned and sighed. Every 
 sweep of the wind came with a chorus of lamentations 
 
THE LOG-HOUSE 39 
 
 that moved round and round, first on one side then 
 on the other, and the intervals of silence between 
 the gusts came as respites before some final disaster. 
 The big locust, that stood alone, had an ominous 
 whistle, while the trees and bushes at the front and 
 back swayed under the low, swooping gusts, until the 
 Log-House seemed once more a part of the wild and 
 primitive forest. 
 
 At times streaks of cold light from the semi-circling 
 moon would fall through the window on the old rag- 
 carpet. Old, because each strip had belonged to 
 garments worn long before the carpet was put together. 
 It needed the moonlight or the soft rays of the setting 
 sun to bring out all its romance and mystery. Then 
 the stripes of saffron evoked the presence of Kezia 
 Jordan, and the darker hues memories of the Load- 
 Bearer, Socrates, and Minerva Wagner. Yfhat 
 romantic adventure these patches suggested ! I 
 would sit and count the pieces and compare one colour 
 with another, for each seemed imbued with a per- 
 sonality of its own. Here, in the common sitting- 
 room, filled with chimeras about to vanish, each strip 
 of cloth was as a pillow for some dead thing of the 
 past, some greeting or regret. There were strips worn 
 when the wearer set sail from the old country, others 
 had faced a hail of bullets at Buena Vista, passed 
 thi'ough an Indian rising, or the first stormy meetings 
 of the Abolitionists in Illinois. Once all these strips 
 of cloth had stood for life and action ; they wrapped a 
 world of dreams and moods, but now they covered a 
 rough floor in a house of logs. They humanised the 
 interior as graves humanise a plot of earth. And 
 never did sacred carpet of Mecca contain so much of 
 
40 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 the magic of life ; for here, too, daily prayers were 
 said on bended knee, and the carpet seemed one with 
 the religious aspirations of the occupants, with all our 
 hopes and fears, joys and sorrows. 
 
 How genial and home-like it was ! It belonged to 
 the order of the wild roses and flowering weeds, the 
 corn and clover, the morning-glories, the gympsum, 
 the sumac, and the red-winged blackbirds that soared 
 in circles around and above the house. 
 
 If its shreds and patches suggested things of the 
 past, the Log-House life it represented was palpitating 
 with the present : full of human dreams and ambitions, 
 of the voiceless sentiments that make a home in the 
 bosom of the prairie. It invited the tired wayfarer 
 of the lonely roads to come in and be refreshed with 
 steaming coffee and hot biscuits, pound-cake, and 
 dainty pies made from the products of the loamy soil ; 
 it invited all to step in and listen to words of 
 encouragement if in trouble, and words of sympathy 
 if in affliction; for the rag-carpet was made for the 
 Log-House, and the Log-House was made for Man. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 SOCRATES GIVES ADVICE 
 
 The day Socrates made his first call at the Log- 
 House I happened to be at home, instead of fishing, 
 a mile away, or wandering about in my accustomed 
 haunts among the squirrels, birds and rabbits. He 
 brought Ebenezer Hicks with him. 
 
 Socrates entertained me with some simple stories of 
 his experience as a hunter and trapper twenty or thirty 
 years earlier : how he killed big game dui'ing the 
 winters of the great snows, his buffalo hunts in 
 Missouri and Iowa, his strange devices for snaring 
 the mink, the fox, and the raccoon. 
 
 I devoured every word with eager excitement: 
 here was the actual romance of the wild woods. 
 
 "And have you killed many bitterns and owls?" 
 I inquired. 
 
 "I don't b'lieve in killin' things ye cain't eat or 
 skin." 
 
 It seemed to me that this Socrates of the wilder- 
 ness had something of the look of a big horned owl, 
 with his bushy eyebrows and short scraggy beard. 
 Over his sparsely- covered head the years had cast a 
 halo of experience and wisdom, and I began to respect 
 this man who united in himself so much adventure 
 and common-sense. He seemed strong as a lion and 
 harmless as a lamb, free as the winds of the prairie, 
 yet methodical and never in doubt. He brought with 
 
42 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 him into the Log-House — where our family had 
 gathered like a flock of sheep in a strange land 
 — a feeling of security and a renewal of faith and 
 courage. 
 
 " There's not much need of raising stock in this 
 part of the country," said my father jokingly ; " game 
 is so plentiful." 
 
 "The new settlers air givin' tharselves a heap o' 
 trouble jes' fer the fun o' ploughin' en reapin'. They 
 snap the bow-strings. They air tryin' te kill big 
 game with a shot-gun, en the shot scatters all over 
 the kintry. It air good 'nough fer rabbits en 
 squirrels, but it don't stop a buck jumpin' er a b'ar 
 from browsin'. I see a heap o' hard work fer some o' 
 these here settlers what's comin' in from the ole 
 kintries over East. 'Tain't wisdom. 
 
 " Some folks air too good fer this world 'thout bein' 
 plumb ready ferthenex'. Accordin' te thar reasonin', 
 a praii'ie- chicken settin' on the fence air better'n two 
 birds o' paradise over yander. The world air a 
 sorrowin' vale, kase folks hez too many stakes in the 
 groun'. Ez fer me, I kin shoot en trap all I ken eat, 
 jes' plantin' 'nough corn fer hoe-cakes en a leetle 
 fodder, en some taters en turnips en pum'kins ; en I 
 hev a sight more smoked venison en b'ar meat in 
 winter than I kin eat ez a single man with on'y one 
 stommick ; en I 'low I kin give a traveller hoe-cakes 
 en fried chicken all he wants to fill up on." 
 
 Socrates sat like a lump of hewn adamant, his look 
 alone being sufficient guarantee of his ability to take 
 care of himself without the slightest trouble or worry. 
 
 " Thar be folks that air trampin' over these prairies 
 a-spadin' up trouble like thar warn't none te be hed 
 
SOCRATES GIVES ADVICE 48 
 
 by settin' down in the city en lettin' other folks bring 
 it to 'em. Thar's a heap too much corn en wheat, a 
 durned sight too many kyows en bosses ; en the four- 
 legged critters chaws up what the two-legged critters 
 gathers in. It air wus nor dog eat dog, seein' ez how 
 the four-legged critters air livin' on the fat o' the land 
 while the pore planters air livin' on spar' ribs en hens 
 with sinoos ez tough ez b'iled owels." 
 
 ''But it makes a great difference when a man has 
 a family to support and educate," remarked my 
 mother, thinlcing of the responsibility of parents. 
 
 " I allow readin' en writin' air a good thing if ye've 
 got any figurin' to do ; but cipherin's a dreflful load on 
 the mind. Thar's Si Jordan yander ; he sets figurin' 
 o' nights, en calculatin' te see jes' how he'll come out 
 at the end o' the year ; but I allers say to myself he's 
 like the groun'-hog, he won't come out." 
 
 " Still, it would be awkward to have to calculate 
 with nothing but your fingers," observed my father, 
 smiling. 
 
 " Fingers or no fingers, book-larnin' don't make a 
 man no better than he war in a state o' natur'. Them 
 as reads newspapers knows too much 'bout other 
 folks's sins en not 'nough 'bout thar own. Over 
 Decatur en Fancy Creek way they built mectin'- 
 houses with steeples on 'em, en the wimin-folks tuck 
 te wearin' store clothes en the men-folks put on b'iled 
 shirts. But when the comet come into view the 
 wimin put on their ole sun-bonnets, allowin' pink 
 calico te be more'n enough te be jedged in." 
 
 My mother, as she looked up from her knitting, 
 thought his round grey eyes seemed bigger and 
 rounder than ever. She noticed in his face an 
 
44 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 expression of naive irony and unconscious satire which 
 she had not remarked before. But later there radiated 
 from his face a sense of pity when he thought of all 
 the hard work she would have to do. In some un- 
 accountable way he had come into touch with the 
 unexpressed hopes and fears of the silent man sitting 
 before him, and the pale, passive face of his wife, who 
 was knitting. 
 
 Then, as if struck with a sudden, new idea, he 
 said : — 
 
 " Ye kin divide the day's doin's into two passels — • 
 the happenin's en the fac's ; en thar ain't but two 
 leadin' fac's in all creation — bein' born en bein' dead. 
 Howsomever, right in betwixt 'em thar's some purty 
 lively happenin's a steppin' roun' on all fours, ez 
 when a panther takes a notion te drap on a pig's back ; 
 it's a shore thing f er the panther but a dead loss fer 
 the owner. En it air jest ez sartin the fact air plumb 
 agin the pig, but he don't live long 'nough te know 
 it. Thar's been a suddin burial, en the mourner kin 
 see the fact, but he ain't never see the corpse. Any- 
 how, it's an argimint thet'll work itself out ez easy 
 ez a groun'-worm arter rain, en it don't make no 
 pertickler difference which end comes up fust, heads 
 en tails bein' purty nigh ekil." 
 
 My father enjoyed a hearty laugh, and my mother 
 stopped knitting and eyed Socrates as if trying to 
 fathom the secret of his strange originality. 
 
 " It beats my time all holler," he went on, '' te see 
 folks so kind o' waverin' en onsartin. Instead o' 
 waitin' fer the last hour they make fer it with thar 
 heads down like a bull agin a red flag, en no tail- 
 twistin' '11 stop 'em. Thar's skasely a settler among 
 
SOCRATES GIVES ADVICE 45 
 
 the new uns but wliat'll tell ye they air workin' te 
 live. It air workin' te die, thet's what /call it." 
 
 " Thar's a good many workin' land they ain't got 
 no title to,'' remarked Ebenezer Hicks. 
 
 '' When I go te meetin' en hear some o' these 
 settlers sing about readin' thar title cl'ar te mansions 
 in the skies I allers feel like askiu' 'em how they're 
 holdin' on te the land they got ; kase thar ain't but 
 two kyinds o' settlers — them ez buys right out, and 
 them ez squats right down, en I've allers found thet 
 hymn air a dead favourite among the people thet set 
 right down jes whar thar feet begin te swell. 
 
 " What I know 'bout Bible-teachin' air plumb agin' 
 squatters takin' up land t'other side Jordan. The 
 Lord God hez issued a writ statin* His objections. I 
 ain't never knowed a real live Yankee thet war any 
 good at squattin'. They come from below the Ohio, 
 whar they hev seen the niggers do all the work. En 
 when they come up to this kintry they sing- about 
 readin' thar title cl'ar te big slices o' land in the nex' 
 world ! I tell ye what it is, if thar's ever goin' te be 
 war it'll be betwix' them thet wants the land fer 
 nothin' en them thet wants it fer sunthin', if it ain't 
 fer more'n shootin' snipe en plover. The squatters 
 air lazy ; en t'other folks, like the Squar hyar, air 
 killin' tharselves by doin' too much. 
 
 " My ole daddy larnt me te go through this 
 sorrowin' vale like the varmints do — easy en nat'ral 
 like, never gallopin' when ye kin lope, en never lopin' 
 when ye kin lay down. It's a heap easier. Thar 
 ain't a hog but knows he kin root fer a livin' if ye 
 give him a fair show ; thar ain't a squirrel but knows 
 how te stow away 'nough te nibble on when he wakes 
 
46 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 up en finds his blood's kinder coolin' down en things 
 is p'intin' te zero." 
 
 After a pause he looked hard at my father, and put 
 the question abruptly : 
 
 " What'll ye do, Squar, when ye plough up the prairie 
 thar uex' year, en sow it with corn ez ye calc'late on 
 doin' ? How d'ye 'low ye'll git all the work done 
 'thout extry hands ? " 
 
 It was an unexpected query that left my father 
 without an immediate answer. He had never given 
 the subject any serious thought. 
 
 Socrates continued without waiting for explanations : 
 
 " Ye'll hev a heap o' corn-huskin' te do, en ye 
 suttinly ain't a-goin' te reckon on thet leetle lady with 
 them hands o' her'n doin' much corn-huskin' en sech. 
 'Pears like she'll hev more'n enough te keep her 
 a-goin' right in the house," 
 
 My mother was thinking : " The Lord's will be 
 done. He had a reason for sending us here ; some 
 day we may know why.'^^ 
 
 Socrates resumed : 
 
 "Hirin' extry hands means pay in' out a lot o' money; 
 mebbe yer purse-strings air like yer latch- string, en 
 mebbe ye got a plenty te last ye till nex' harvest 
 time. Things ain't like they war ; folks useter come 
 twenty mile to a corn-huskin', en the doin's ud end up 
 with eatin' en drinkin' en dancin'. Now people air 
 too busy with thar own funerals. They useter help 
 other people work tharselves to death ; now they stay 
 at home en dig thar own graves 'thout borrowing 
 shovels er sendin' fer a fiddler te help 'em mourn with 
 thar tired feet. I keep sayin' the comet may pass 
 over 'thout drappin' ; but if the politicioners, en the 
 
SOCRATES GIVES ADVICE 47 
 
 lawyers, en them ez sez they don't know nothin', en 
 the hordes o' settlers thet cain't tell the difference 
 betwix' a yaller dog en a long-eared rabbit ain't 
 a-bringin' the world to a spot stop, then Zack 
 Caverly hez missed fire, en it'll be the fust time." 
 
 " As for that," said my father, " it certainly does 
 look as if some great change would soon come over 
 the country. Many are turning to religion for conso- 
 lation, while others predict civil war." 
 
 " I see some cussed mean folks pretendin' te hev 
 religion. Some on 'em air thet deceivin' I allers feel 
 like watchin' em with a spy-glass till they git into 
 the woods en then sendin' my ole hound arter 'em te 
 see they don't commit bigamy er hang themselves 
 right on my diggin's." 
 
 " Wal," said Ebenezer Hicks, who had been listen- 
 ing attentively, " I 'low ye've tetched a festern sore 
 when ye say some on 'em air ekil te committin' treason 
 en blasphemy, but ez fer me I hev allers been a 
 church member ; but some folks ain't never satisfied 
 te leave things ez they wur. It's my opinion all the 
 trouble hez come about in the Church by them busy- 
 bodies mixin' up religion with politics. Abolition hez 
 been a bone o' contention en a skewer through both 
 wings o' the Methodists. You war thar when Azariah 
 James preached thet sermon, windin' up by h'istin' the 
 Abolition flag, en you too, Squar, en you beared what 
 he said." 
 
 " Ye'll allow he bed all creation te h'ist on," 
 remarked Socrates; "the stars en stripes te begin 
 with, two kyinds o' lawyers en four kyinds o' 
 preachers — all on 'em ofi"'n whisk}'. T'other party 
 ain't got no flag, but thar whisky makes 'em see 
 
48 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 the stars en they make the niggers feel the 
 stripes." 
 
 Ebenezer Hicks, wishing to turn the conversation, 
 simply observed : 
 
 " Over at Bloomington en Springfield the people 
 air all fer Lincoln." 
 
 But Socrates held to the subject and went on : 
 
 "What beats my time is te know what you folks 
 hez te do with the nigger question anyway. Did ye 
 ever own any slaves ? " 
 
 " Nary a one." 
 
 " "Wal, then, what difference does it make te you 
 whether they work ez slaves er work ez we uns work ? 
 Looks like ye belong te them thet's pinin' away kase 
 ye ain't got sorrers enough o' yer own te hitch to. 
 When we all beared Azariah James preach — the on')'- 
 time the meetin' -house hez been open all summer 
 — I see right away we'd got plumb into the middle o' 
 the Abolition circus en someone ud turn a somerset 
 afore he got through. Fact is, the people o' this here 
 State air a-gittin' ready te send Abe Lincoln te Wash- 
 ington, en ole Buchanan's jes' keepin' the presidential 
 cheer from warpin' till Abe comes." 
 
 " That preacher, Azariah James," said my father, 
 " was not such a fool as some of the congregation 
 thought he was." 
 
 "Not nigh," returned Socrates, as he rose from his 
 seat and took his leave. 
 
 A few days after his visit my mother remarked : 
 
 " Now, I suppose, we shall not have any more 
 visitors for a long time. There are days when I wish 
 someone would call, and somehow I have been thinking 
 a good deal of Mrs. Jordan lately. I should like a 
 
SOCRATES GIVES ADVICE 49 
 
 visit from her more than from anyone else I know 
 just at present." 
 
 That same afternoon, as I was retui-ning to the 
 house from the hollow where I had been gathering 
 hazel-nuts, I thought I could discern a stranger 
 through the window. I entered the house and found 
 Kezia Jordan seated in the rocking-chair. 
 
 Once more her presence opened the door to a world 
 that transcended all the familiar forms of speech ; for 
 it was not what she said, but what she looked, that 
 impressed me so profoundly. 
 
 Moulded and subdued by the lonely days, the 
 monotonous weeks, the haunting hush of the silent 
 nights, and the same thoughts and images returning 
 again and again, she appeared as one who had con- 
 quered the world of silence. Elihu Gest partly 
 explained himself by his explanation of others, but 
 Kezia Jordan made few comments, and they were 
 rarely personal. She never talked for the sake of 
 talking. As she sat there she might have been a 
 statue, for to-day she brought with her an inexorable 
 detachment from worldly thoughts and influences. 
 
 The sentiments she inspired in me were like those 
 produced by the motion of clouds on a calm moon- 
 light night, or the falling of leaves on a still, dreamy 
 day of Indian summer. There were moments when 
 her presence seemed to possess something preternatural, 
 when she imparted to others an extraordinary and 
 superhuman quietude. Her spirit, freed for ever from 
 the trammels and tumults of the world, seemed heed- 
 less of the passing moments, resigned to every secret 
 and mandate of destiny ; for hers was a freedom which 
 was not attained in a single battle — the conflict was 
 
 Y.S. B 
 
50 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 begun by her ancestors when they landed at Plymouth 
 Eock. In the tribulations that followed the succes- 
 sive generations were stripped of the superfluities of 
 life. One by one vanities and illusions fell from the 
 fighters like shattered muskets and tattered garments. 
 Each generation, stripped of the tinsel, became 
 acquainted with the folly of plaints and the futility of 
 protests. Little by little the pioneers began to under- 
 stand, and in the last generation of all there resulted 
 a knowledge too deep for discussion and a wisdom too 
 great for idle misgivings. 
 
 Where was the hurried visitor from foreign lands 
 who could sound the depths of such a soul ? 
 
 The influences were different when Mrs. Busby 
 came to the Log-House. She brought with her 
 pleasant maxims about her bakings, her messes, and 
 herb-medicines, and talked on and on without caring 
 what the subject was. She created commotion and 
 movement, and under her hands the kettle hissed and 
 spouted. 
 
 Mrs. Jordan handled things as if they had life and 
 feeling, and without being conscious of influencing 
 others she brought with her a power that penetrated 
 to the core of things. She had passed the time when 
 her duties had to be accomplished by the aid of a 
 strenuous use of the reasoning faculties. She had 
 arrived at that stage when religion was not a thing of 
 reason, but a state of perpetual feeling. Circum- 
 stances altered, conditions changed and found her the 
 same, unaltered and unalterable. 
 
 Yet she had her day-dreams, moments of rapt 
 meditation which bordered on forge tfulness, when 
 the formless visions and homely realities of kitchen, 
 
SOCRATES GIVES ADVICE 51 
 
 meeting-house, and prairie became one, and the song 
 of the blackbird and the chirping of the cricket 
 seemed a part of her own life and feeling. She pos- 
 sessed the dominant influence of an abiding power 
 with a total absence of self-assertion, for hers was that 
 true power of the soul, an influence that penetrates 
 to depths which intellect alone can never reach. 
 
 I thought the rocking-chair was made for Kezia 
 Jordan, and the rag-carpet too, and somehow I could 
 never quite free my mind from the impression that 
 the flowers about the house were hers as well. 
 
 Soon after my arrival a rap was heard at the door, 
 and in walked Minerva Wagner, proud, lean, wrinkled, 
 and unbending. She came within the category of 
 those who, according to Zack Caverly, were labouring 
 under the necessity of borrowing trouble. She had 
 not yet recovered from the shock produced by the 
 Abolition sermon of the preacher, Azariah James. 
 Mrs. Wagner was our nearest neighbour to the north, 
 and every time I glanced in that direction I would 
 marv^el at the listless, lonely life of the family in the 
 little frame house stuck like a white speck on the 
 brow of the prairie, ten times more lonely and isolated 
 than the Log-House we inhabited. Whenever I saw 
 someone moving about over there I thought of a tomb 
 opening its doors and letting out an imprisoned ghost; 
 for every member of the family looked and walked and 
 talked alike, except, perhaps, old Minerva Wagner, 
 who stood to-day facing the inexorable present, stern, 
 relentless, unable to account for anything she saw or 
 heard, but choking with prejudice against what she 
 persisted in calling " the Yankee trash of Indianny 
 and Illinoise." 
 
 E 2 
 
52 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 After some talk about pickles and bacon and apple- 
 butter, and some allusion to the awful state of the 
 country, brought on by the Anti-Slavery agitation, 
 Mrs. Wagner took her departure, and once more the 
 room assumed the calm, peaceful aspect commensurate 
 with Kezia Jordan's presence. My mother made tea, 
 and the moments passed as if there were no clock 
 ticking the time away and no regrets for the old 
 days that would never return ; and when at last 
 Mrs. Jordan rose from her seat she looked more 
 slender than ever in her simple dress of copperas- 
 coloured jean ; and when the clouds parted and the 
 setting sun shone full on the windows, her spare figure 
 cast a shadow that fell across the rag-carpet, and there, 
 under her feet, were strips of coloured cloth, the 
 counterpart of her own dress, and it seemed as if she 
 had always belonged to the Log-House and ought 
 never to leave it. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 SILAS Jordan's illness 
 
 The solemn hush of the wilderness had its voices 
 of bird and insect, wind, rain, and rustling grass ; but 
 from the song of birds and grasshoppers to the noise- 
 less march of the comet was a far and terrible cry, and 
 more than one head of a family, seeing its approach 
 nearer and nearer to the earth, sat with folded liands 
 awaiting the end. While it frightened some into 
 silence it made others loquacious, while others again 
 could not help laughing at the comical figure some of 
 the frightened ones assumed. 
 
 No sooner did Silas Jordan see the comet than a 
 great fear seized him, and he sat down in the kitchen, 
 a millstone of desolation holding him in his seat. 
 
 Hardly a day passed that I did not run up to the 
 Jordans', and on this evening, instead of hearing Mrs. 
 Jordan singing one of her favourite hymns, I listened 
 to a monologue which contained a note of sadness. 
 
 When Kezia came in with a chicken which she had 
 just killed and was about to scald and pluck, a glance 
 at her husband told her of the great and sudden 
 change. 
 
 " Dear me, suss ! Zack Caverly said ye'd be apt 
 to feel a touch o' fever when ye broke that piece o' 
 land down by the Log-House." 
 
 She expected an answer, but none came, and she 
 went on : 
 
54 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 " I don't know what we'll do with so much work 
 waitin' to be done." 
 
 She took from the highest shelf in the cupboard a 
 large box of quinine pills and offered Silas two, but 
 he refused them with a stubborn shake of the head. 
 
 Mrs. Jordan put the box aside and began to pluck the 
 chicken with a will that might have inspired her hus- 
 band with corn-age had he noticed what she was doing. 
 
 " It ain't no use giviu' way and broodin' over yer 
 feelin's," she said, quietly. 
 
 Alek came in and told his mother a comet was to 
 be seen, and she stepped to the door to look. 
 
 She had heard the rumours and prophecies, but they 
 left her indifferent. Her deep religious faith made 
 it impossible for her to worry when worry seemed 
 almost a sin, and it never occurred to her that Silas 
 was not ill of malaria, but of fear and despair. 
 
 " Pap's ailin'," said Alek. " If he ain't no better 
 to-morrer I'll go fer that yarb doctor that cured 
 Ebenezer Hicks o' them faintin' spells." 
 
 He had a horror of long illnesses, and would call in a 
 " doctor " at the slightest sign of a break-up in health. 
 
 The next day I was at the Jordan home again, this 
 time with tempting eatables for the invalid, who, 
 however, refused everything. 
 
 The doctor arrived shortly after; then, on his heels, 
 came Socrates, who, when he saw the doctor's horse 
 and saddle-bags, guessed there was something wrong 
 with the Jordan household. 
 
 The doctor was looking about the room like a rabbit 
 let loose in a strange place. Lank and bony, clothed 
 in blue jeans, he looked a picture of unsophisticated 
 ignorance. 
 
SILAS JORDAN'S ILLNESS 66 
 
 "My husband's ailin'," said Mrs. Jordan, as she 
 took a chair and placed it before Silas for the doctor. 
 
 " How long's he been feelin'this a-way?" he asked, 
 in a drawling voice as he sat down and took hold of 
 the patient's limp hand. 
 
 " Sence yesterday." 
 
 " Chills en fever, I reckon," he said, looking at 
 Silas with a blank stare. 
 
 " He ain't had any chills," returned Mrs. Jordan. 
 
 " Ain't hed no pin-feather feelins ? " 
 
 " I don't reckon he hez." 
 
 " No chatterin' o' the teeth ? " 
 
 " Not ez I know of." 
 
 " Been wanderin' in his mind ? " 
 
 " Not ez I know of." 
 
 " Ain't felt overly het up ? " 
 
 " I guess not." 
 
 " Then I reckon it's dumb ague," concluded the 
 doctor at his wits' end. 
 
 " I guess it is," said Kezia, " fer he ain't spoke a 
 word sence he was took." 
 
 The doctor now asked to see the patient's tongue, 
 and after much persuasion Silas slowly put out the tip, 
 then closed his jaws with a smart snap. 
 
 " Mighty peert for a manthetcain't talk," observed 
 Zack Caverly. But the doctor, more and more be- 
 wildered, simply nodded his head, and then moved his 
 chair back several paces as if to be well out of the reach 
 of a patient who might suddenly do him an injury. 
 
 He looked fixedly at the little wiry-faced man, not 
 knowing what to say or do. 
 
 Suddenly a thought struck him. 
 
 " Hez he ever hed quare idees ? " 
 
56 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 ''I don't know thet he hez, 'ceptin' he's been 
 figurin' on jest how long it would take to buy out the 
 folks at the big Log-House." 
 
 "En ye say he ain't et no vittles sence yestiddy ? " 
 
 "ISTot a morsel." 
 
 The doctor considered for a while, pulled at his 
 goatee, and said : 
 
 " I 'low his symptomania air summat confoundin', 
 but jest at this perticklcr p'int whar, ez ye might 
 say, the fever hez kinder thawed out the chills, en 
 the chills hez sorter nipped the fever in the bud, both 
 on 'em hev been driv' in. They're a-fightin' it out 
 on the liver, en a man ain't calc'lated te know jest 
 how things air a-workin' up on the inside." 
 
 " Will it last long ? " demanded Alek. 
 
 "Wal, thar ain't no cause te be frustrated. T'other 
 day I see a man over B'ar Creek way thet rolled on 
 the floor f er nigh an hour, en I'm doggoned if the chills 
 en fever didn't stay right whar they war. His wife 
 allowed I hed giv' him too much senna en calomel, 
 but it takes a powerful sight te make 'em go different 
 ways — more pertickler when the chills air dumb." 
 
 The doctor, after ordering huge doses of calomel 
 and quinine, shuffled awkwardly out, and Socrates 
 took Silas Jordan's hand and considered for a moment. 
 Then, looking about the room, he observed : 
 
 " If chills means bein' cold, he ain't got no chills, 
 en if fever means bein' hot, he ain't got no fever." 
 
 "What hez he, then?" inquired Alek, with a 
 startled look. 
 
 " He's got the funks ! " 
 
 " I want to know ! " exclaimed Kezia, rising to 
 face the new situation. 
 
SILAS JOEDAN'S ILLNESS 57 
 
 Alek, appalled at the sound of a word he had 
 never heard till now, gasped out : 
 
 '' Is it ketchin' ? " 
 
 '' Ketchin' ! I'd like te see ye ketch a weazil in a 
 haystack," observed Zack Caverly. 
 
 Mrs. Jordan looked at one and then at the other, 
 but before she had time to say anything further, in 
 came Uriah Busby. 
 
 He had come in a great hurry. 
 
 Of middle age, somewhat portly, and slightly bald, 
 he now looked ten years older than when I saw him 
 at the meeting-house. To-day his face wore a haggard 
 and woe-begone expression. 
 
 Uriah Busby had come to find out what his practical, 
 cool-headed neighbour, Silas Jordan, thought of the 
 comet. 
 
 " Glad to see ye," was Kezia's gentle greeting. 
 
 She handed him a chair, and Uriah sat down, 
 heaved a deep sigh, and began to wipe his perspiring 
 head and face with his big handkerchief. 
 
 " No," resumed Socrates, where he had left off ; 
 '' he ain't sick, he's only skeered." 
 
 Uriah Busby could hardly believe his ears. He 
 had come, thinking that Silas Jordan would have 
 some counsel of hope to offer, and there he sat scared 
 into helplessness ! 
 
 Nevertheless, Uriah felt called upon to say something : 
 
 " These be times of great affliction. It looks like 
 the preacher war plumb right, en the Lord's hand is 
 stretched agin us." 
 
 *' Mebbe ye're right," interrupted Socrates; ''but ez 
 fur ez I kin see the Lord ain't tetched any of ye with 
 more'n a thumb en forefinger." 
 
68 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 Tlie eyes of the invalid were now wide open ; he sat 
 bolt upright as if shaking oS the effects of a horrid 
 nightmare, and blurted out : 
 
 " Arter all, like ez not it ain't a-comin' our way ! " 
 
 Uriah Busby pointed upward, his voice tremulous 
 with emotion : 
 
 " Mebbe its only a sign o' grace fer the elect." 
 
 But Socrates simply remarked : " It's a sign ye've 
 been settin' on a chinee egg like a wet hen, en it's 
 'bout time ye war up en dustin'." 
 
 Kezia's dark face was all aglow ; she looked as if 
 she had no words to express what she felt. 
 
 Uriah Busby's confusion increased with every 
 remark that came from Socrates, who seemed to expose 
 everyone's secret. 
 
 " It's jest ez ye say," he stammered at last ; " if the 
 Lord's willin' it's our dooty te work en not te set 
 waitin'." 
 
 " En he's been settin' there ever sence he was took," 
 said Mrs. Jordan. 
 
 " 'Pears lOte ye'll hev te pull him up like ye would 
 a gympsum-weed," added Socrates. " Mebbe thet 
 med'cine man hez got more sense then I 'lowed he 
 had ; mebbe ez like ez not Si needs a thunderin' big 
 shakin', en if we'll jes' set te work we kin bring him 
 te rights. Did ye ever see a b'ar come out arter the 
 fust big thaw, hoppin' roun' on two legs, this a-way, 
 gettin' his sinoos sorter stretched en his blood sorter 
 warmed up ? " 
 
 He began to imitate a dancing bear, stepping first 
 on one leg, then on the other, swaying, nodding, and 
 bending his head, with comical glances at Silas. 
 
 " Do like mister b'ar ; shake yerself ! " 
 
SILAS JORDAN'S ILLNESS 59 
 
 And with this he pulled the invalid out of his seat 
 with a sudden jerk, forcing him round and round, 
 dancing, bending, and hopping, with growls and 
 grimaces to harmonise with his bruin-like antics. 
 
 " Keep it up," shouted Uriah Busby ; " it'll do him 
 a heap o' good." 
 
 Socrates kept up the hopping and swaying until 
 Silas Jordan was exhausted and Alek's fear had 
 changed into a broad grin that was almost laughter ; 
 and hardly had the mad dance ceased when Silas 
 asked for fried chicken, the chicken which Kezia had 
 killed and dressed and kept for some such occasion. 
 
 "The ways o' the Lord air past findin' out," 
 remarked Uriah, wiping his face. 
 
 "When the chicken was ready Silas walked about 
 picking a wing which he held in both hands. 
 
 " He's ez hungry ez a wolf, I do declare," said 
 Kezia in a half- whisper, as she went about her duties, 
 relieved of the long strain of watching and waiting. 
 Then she added : 
 
 " I never see his ekil ! " 
 
 ''I 'low ye never did, Sister Jordan," rejoined 
 Socrates; "but ye're mistaken in the varmint — ye 
 mean he's ez hungry ez a catamount ! " 
 
CHAPTER YI 
 
 THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 
 
 '' Sonny," said my father one afternoon, " you can 
 come with me and you will have a chance of seeing 
 Socrates, for I am to call at his cahin to see a drover 
 on some business." 
 
 I accepted the invitation with joy, for I never 
 tired of hearing Zack Caverly talk ; even to sit and 
 look at him was to me a great treat. 
 
 Socrates was sitting at his cabin door, smoking, 
 dreaming, and listening to what strange sounds might 
 reach him from the woods. As he sat there he felt 
 himself detached from the world, yet near enough to 
 human beings to have all the society he desired. He 
 thought of the new settlers, their troubles and vexa- 
 tions, and he wondered how many of them were as 
 free from care as himself. 
 
 Under the cabin the hounds were sleeping, all 
 cuddled up, and now, after a somewhat busy and 
 exciting day, IS^ature seemed more intimate and satis- 
 fying than ever. Age brought with it less and less 
 ambition, less and less desire to do useless things, to 
 speculate about vain theories and impending political 
 events. To the mind of Socrates worry and ambition 
 were unnatural and foolish things, and eternity meant 
 to-day. 
 
 As he sat at his door he felt at home in the universe. 
 The wilderness was his kingdom ; his subjects, the 
 
THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 61 
 
 birds and beasts ; his friends, the hound and his rifle ; 
 and he rode out among the settlers like a king on a 
 tour of inspection, with advice here and a greeting of 
 encouragement where it was needed, and when he 
 returned to his cabin, peace and contentment issued 
 forth from every log. 
 
 His cabin was his palace. A huge stag's head 
 nailed over the entrance might have been taken for a 
 coat-of-arms in the rough, while inside another set of 
 antlers adorned the chimney -place. From the rafters 
 hung the pelt of fox and wild cat ; a low couch was 
 covered with a buffalo robe, and on the floor were 
 some old skins of the black bear. Several trophies of 
 the wolf were stretched on nails, and strings of Indian 
 corn hanging about here and there made the inside of 
 the cabin a picture of indolence and activity. 
 
 Zack Caverly was the last of his peculiar mode of 
 life in this part of the country, and towns and rail- 
 roads would soon put an end to such a mode of living. 
 
 The cabin adjoined a deep wood not far from a 
 creek, with the prairie in front, and from his door not 
 a house could be seen. 
 
 Socrates had been here some twenty-five years, and 
 knew the history of every family within a radius of 
 many miles : their peculiarities, virtues, and vices. 
 He could sum up the powers and failings of a new- 
 comer at a glance. As for himself, he knew where 
 his food would come from for a year, good weather or 
 bad ; he knew the work required at his hands, using 
 his own time and pleasure in doing it. For often 
 when the weather was fine, and the ground dry, he 
 would spend whole days hunting in the bottoms, many 
 miles from home. He ploughed when it suited him, 
 
62 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 and reaped much in the same way. He read no books, 
 did not belong to an}^ religious sect, never had been 
 to school, and, owing to his wanderings in his younger 
 days, had no prejudices. 
 
 He knew the haunts and habits of all the animals 
 and birds of field and forest, and the time to expect 
 certain wild flowers; and he had his own weather 
 signs. He loved everything wild, regarding his 
 solitary mode of life as the most natural thing in 
 the world. 
 
 As the days and hours came and went, so he 
 passed from one mood to another without being 
 conscious of any change, without grief or regret, 
 rising in the morning and lying down at night with 
 the same feeling of security and contentment. And 
 principally for this reason he was welcomed every- 
 where, bringing with him an atmosphere of mental 
 vigour and confidence at a time when these forces 
 were so much needed. His mind was on the present; 
 thus no time was lost in idle sorrow for events of 
 yesterday. 
 
 It was nearly dusk when we arrived at the cabin, 
 and my father had not long to wait for the drover. 
 Soon after Socrates set about getting us supper of 
 bacon, eggs, hoe-cakes, and coffee, which we ate with 
 keen appetites. 
 
 Shortly after supper was over Elihu Gest, the Load- 
 Bearer, came driving up, and hitched his team to one 
 of the logs near the door. He was on his way home 
 from the post-office. 
 
 " I war kinder moved te come aroun' en see ye," 
 he said. 
 
 "Eight glad ye come ; ye're allers welcome ez long 
 
THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 63 
 
 ez I'm alive en kickin','' answered Socrates, with his 
 usual good humour. 
 
 " The feelin' come jest ez I got te the cross-roads, 
 thar by Ebenezer Hicks's cornfield." 
 
 Just then Lem Stephens rode up. 
 
 Socrates had come out to greet the Load-Bearer, and 
 the three men sat down on the logs while I sat at one 
 side. My father and the drover were inside discussing 
 some matters of business. 
 
 But oh ! how shall I depict the company outside ? 
 the objects fading in the deepening dusk, the stars 
 growing brighter every moment, the stillness broken 
 now and again by the cries of the whip-poor-will and 
 the conversation of the three men ! 
 
 After a long spell of cloudy weather the sky had 
 cleared ; the air was warm and dry, and when dark- 
 ness closed in the night came with a revelation. 
 IS" ever in that region had such a night been seen by 
 living man, for a comet himg suspended in the 
 shimmering vault, like an immense silver arrow, 
 dominating the world and all the constellations. 
 
 An unparalleled radiance illumined the prairie in 
 front of the cabin ; the atmosphere vibrated with a 
 strange, mysterious glow; and as the eye looked 
 upward it seemed as if the earth was moving slowly 
 towards the stars. 
 
 The sky resembled a phantasmagoria seen from 
 the summit of some far and fabulous Eden. The 
 Milky Way spread across the zenith like a confluence 
 of celestial altars flecked with myriads of gleaming 
 tapers, and countless orbs rose out of the luminous 
 veil like fleecy spii'es tipped with the blaze of opal and 
 sapphire. -.-. 
 
64 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 The great stellar clusters appeared like beacons on 
 the shores of infinite worlds, and night was the window 
 from which the soul looked out on eternity. 
 
 The august splendour of the heavens, the atmosphere, 
 palpitating with the presence of the All-ruling Spirit, 
 diffused a feeling of an inscrutable power reaching 
 out from the starry depths, enveloping the whole 
 world in mystery. 
 
 I sat and gazed in awe and silence. 
 
 Socrates was quietly smoking a corn-cob pipe, while 
 Elihu Gest, rapt in wonder, contemplated the heavens 
 as if seeking an answer to his innermost thoughts. 
 
 " I knowed we war clost to it," he exclaimed at 
 last, referring to the comet ; " the hand o' the Lord 
 air p'intin' straight ! " 
 
 He stopped to meditate again, and no one broke 
 the silence for some little time. 
 
 Then he proceeded : 
 
 " I've seen it afore, but never like this. 'Pears 
 like over around here the hull heavings air clairer, 
 and the stars look like they war nigher the yearth." 
 
 " Be you on risin' groun' ? " asked Lem Stephens, 
 addressing Socrates. 
 
 " Not onless it's riz sence we've been settin' here." 
 
 " I allowed ye warn't," said Lem; " but I thought 
 mebbe I war mistaken." 
 
 " It's the feelin's a man hez when mericles air 
 a-bein' worked," said the Load-Bearer, with familiar 
 confidence. " A man's thoughts en feelin's ain't 
 noways the same when the Lord begins te manifest 
 His power. He ain't afeared te show His hand ; but 
 I ain't never see a kyard-player thet'll let ye look at 
 his kyards." 
 
THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 65 
 
 *' 'Kase it air we uns thet do the shufflin'," observed 
 Socrates ; " Providence allers leads and allers wins. 
 But some o' these settlers knows what spades air, I 
 reckon." 
 
 " En some '11 suttinly know what clubs air if they 
 keep on with thar nigger stealin'," spoke up Lem 
 Stephens, 
 
 To this the Load-Bearer paid no attention. His 
 thoughts were on the signs of the times and the man 
 who was to lead in the great struggle. 
 
 " Thar's a new dispensation a-comin'," he said with 
 calm conviction ; " but it warn't made plain what it 
 ud be till I heerd Abe Lincoln en Steve Douglas 
 discussin' some p'ints o' law fer the fust time. When 
 I heerd Lincoln war a-goin' te speak I sez : ' Now's 
 yer time. If ye miss this chance ye won't mebbe hev 
 another.' When I got thar I see Jedge Douglas war 
 'p'inted te opin the meetin'." 
 
 " Thet give ye a chance te see how the leetle giant 
 ud look along side o' the six-footer," interrupted 
 Socrates. " When I heerd the Jedge he give chapter 
 en verse for every hole he bored in the Kepublican 
 plank; but when Abe Lincoln riz up he held some 
 thunderin' big Abolition nails te plug 'em with. 
 'Beared like he ez much ez sez te Steve Douglas : 
 ^ You jes' keep on borin' en I'll do the drivin' ; it's a 
 heap easier ; fer when you fellers git through borin' 
 I'll hev my plank nailed te the constitution o' this 
 hull kintry ! ' " 
 
 "I low Steve Douglas bed the law on his side," 
 
 rejoined Elihu Gest ; " but lawyer Lincoln hedn't been 
 
 speakin' more'n ten minutes afore I see he war a-bein' 
 
 called on, en 'peared like I could hear the words, 
 
 v.s. F 
 
66 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 ' jedgment, jedgment ! ' a-soundin' in the air ; en if all 
 the prairies o' this here State hed been sot on fire, I'd 
 a-sot thar till he'd a-spoke the last word ! " 
 
 '' Shucks ! " exclaimed Socrates ; "I don't reckon 
 Steve Douglas keers ; but I 'spect he see it warn't no 
 use sassin' back." 
 
 Lem Stephens struck the log several hard, quick 
 blows with his wooden leg. 
 
 ''But laws! What kin words en book-larnin' do 
 agin the Ten Commandments ? " ejaculated the Load- 
 Bearer. 
 
 " I reckon Jedge Douglas war relyin' on saft sodder ; 
 but it won't hold the spout te the kittle if the fire's 
 anyways over het and the water's mos' b'iled away," 
 said Socrates. 
 
 " Ez I war a-goin' te say," continued Elihu Gest, 
 " 't ain't words ez counts ez much ez it air the feelin's. 
 A politician's 'bout the same in this here ez a 
 preacher : he hez te possess the sperit if he wants the 
 power. Accordin' te my thinkin' he hez te throw it 
 out till it kivers the hull meetin'." 
 
 " I b'lieve ye're right," assented Socrates non- 
 chalantly. " I've beared the leetle giant more'n 
 oncet, en I 'low he did look spry en plump, en ez 
 boundin' ez a rubber ball. But it ain't the boss thet 
 jumps the highest thet kin carry the fui'dest, en I 
 reckon a man's got te be convicted hisself afore he 
 convicts ary other." 
 
 " The sperit air more in th' eye than it air in the 
 tongue," said Elihu Gest, rising from his seat ; "if 
 Abe Lincoln looked at the wust slave-driver long 
 enough, Satan would give up every time." 
 
 " 'Fears like ye're right," observed Socrates again. 
 
THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 67 
 
 The Load - Bearer continued, with increasing 
 emphasis : 
 
 "I see right away the difference a-twixt Lincoln 
 en Doughis warn't so much in Lincoln bein' a good 
 ways over six foot en Douglas a good ways under, ez 
 it war in thar eyes. The Jedge looked like he war 
 speakin' agin time, but Abe Lincoln looked plumb 
 through the meetiu' into the Everlastin' — the way 
 Moses must hev looked when he see Canaan ahead — 
 en I kin tell ye I never did see a man look thet 
 a- way." 
 
 " The Jedge is some pum'kins fer squeezin' hisself 
 in, but I reckon the six-footer hez got the rulin' hand 
 this time." 
 
 " They're at the cross-roads ! " ejaculated Lem 
 Stephens ; " but them thar Abolitionists air in a 
 howlin' wilderness, en the partin' o' the ways don't 
 lead nowheres ; thar ain't no sign-posts, not in this 
 'ere case. I've been lost more'n oncet by takin' the 
 wrong road jes' when I felt dead sartin I war on the 
 right track. Gee whizz ! I kin take ye te a place 
 over near Edwardsville whar nothin' walkin' on two 
 legs kin tell the difference a-twixt the p'ints in com- 
 pass on a cloudy day ; en even when the sun's 
 a-shinin' ye've got te smell the way jes' like a hound, 
 fer seein' don't do no good. 
 
 "I'll tell ye what it is, in this 'ere business whar 
 politics is right on the cross-roads they want sunthin' 
 more'n two eyes te see with. A man's got te know 
 whar he's a-goin'. I see an Injun oncet put his ear 
 te the groun' te tell which road te take. Arter a 
 while he got up, give his breast a thump, en struck 
 out ez if he war a blood-hound arter a nigger. En 
 
 F 2 
 
68 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 don't ye go te thinkin' he tuck the wrong road 
 neither. How d'ye allow they air goin' te free the 
 niggers ? They ain't got no weepons, en the slave- 
 owners air a sight cuter with shootin'-irons nur the 
 Abolitionists be. Ever sence Daniel Boone settled 
 t'other side the Ohio the white folks o' the South hev 
 been aimin' at movin' targets — all kyinds o' birds en 
 varmints, flyin' en runnin', includin' niggers en Injuns." 
 
 "Ez fer settin' on 'em free," said the Load-Bearer, 
 *' I ain't allowin' nothin' but God Almighty's hand ; 
 en shorely with thet comet up yander we air movin' 
 into conflictin' times. If I hed any doubts my mind 
 war set at rest when I beared Abe Lincoln speak ; if 
 he hed jes' riz up en looked at the folks they would 
 a-felt his power jes' the same." 
 
 " I've seen him," said Zack Caverly, " when he 
 played mournin' tunes on their heart-strings till they 
 mourned with the mourners." 
 
 Elihu Gest straightened himself up, and the tone of 
 his voice changed. 
 
 "But somehow it 'peared like Abe Lincoln would 
 hev such loads ez no man ever carried sence Chiist 
 walked in Israel. When I went over fer to hear him 
 things looked mighty onsartin; 'peared like I hed 
 more'n I could stand up under ; but he hadn't spoke 
 more'n ten minutes afore I felt like I never hed no 
 loads. I begin te feel ashamed o' bein' weary en com- 
 plainin'. When I went te hear him I 'lowed the Lord 
 might let me carry some loads away, but I soon see 
 Abe Lincoln war ekil te carry his'n en mine too, en I 
 sot te wonderin' 'bout the workin's o' Providence. 
 
 "But ye war only listenin' to an Abolitionist 
 a-stumpin' this hull tarnation kedentry," remarked 
 
THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 69 
 
 Lem Stephens with all the bitterness he could put 
 into the words. 
 
 " Arter all, I reckon religion en politics air 'bout 
 the same," broke in Socrates. 
 
 " Sin in politics," answered the Load-Bearer, " air 
 ekil te sin in religion — thar ain't no dividin' line," 
 a remark which made Lem Stephens begin a loud 
 and prolonged tattoo on the log with his wooden 
 stump. 
 
 "Pete Cart Wright," he blurted out, "hez allers 
 been agin Abe Lincoln; how d'ye kyount for it ? " 
 
 " I 'low brother Cartwright hez worked a heap o' 
 good ez a preacher," was the cool reply of Elihu Gest, 
 " but things ain't a-goin' te be changed by preachin' 
 alone. There'll be fire en brimstone fer some, er that 
 blazin' star up yander don't mean nothin', en thar ain't 
 no truth in the Scriptur's." 
 
 There were sounds as of something rushing through 
 the underbrush and the crackling of dry timber some 
 distance away, and when I looked in that direction I 
 saw what seemed a faint flash of a lantern. One of 
 the hounds under the cabin gave signs of uneasiness. 
 
 The Load-Bearer continued, lowering his voice : 
 
 " I feel like I did afore the war with Mexico, 'cept 
 we didn't see no comet then." 
 
 " They did make a confounded fuss over thet war," 
 observed Socrates, " en I remember Clay en Calhoun 
 having it hot over sunthin' er nuther ; both on 'em 
 faced the music fer a reelin' breakdown. Clay sez to 
 Calhoun, ' Ye've been expoundin' a p'int o' law I ain't 
 never diskivered in the book o' statues. Yer argiments 
 air shaky, en yer jedgmints aii* ez splashy ez the 
 Mississippi in flood-time. The hull nation's cavin' 
 
70 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 in, en thar ain't a man among ye knows 'nough. te 
 plug things up en stop the leakin'. 
 
 " But Calhoun put the question ez peert ez a blue- 
 jay : ' What's a-leakin ? ' sez he ; ' tain't the ship o' 
 State, it's the whisky barrel.' 
 
 " ' Jes' so,' says Henry Clay, ez sassy ez a cat-bird in 
 nestin' time ; ^ you en yer party hev knocked the plug 
 out, but me en my party air a-goin' te double dam 
 thet leakin.' 
 
 " Old Hickory I see oncet at a Methodist meetin'. 
 Pete Cartwright war a-preachin' when Old Hickory 
 walked in. The presidin' elder sez te the preacher : 
 ' Thet's Andrew Jackson ' ; but Pete Cartwright didn't 
 noways keer. 'Who's Andrew Jackson ? ' he sez. * If 
 he's a sinner God'll damn him the same ez He would 
 a Guinea nigger.' En he went right on preachin'." 
 
 "Thar's nothin' I despise so much ez an Abolition 
 Methodist," ejaculated Lem Stephens. '' Tar en 
 feathers air a heap too good fer some on 'em." 
 
 This remark was evidently intended for the Load- 
 Bearer, but he seemed not to hear. 
 
 "When ye're corn-huskin'," said Socrates, "ye put 
 on gloves, but ye take 'em off when ye're gropin' 
 roun' for sinners' souls. Some preachers en politicioners 
 take holt like they war the hounds en the people a 
 passel o' varmints. But a preacher thet knows what 
 he's about allers takes the p'iats iv a meetin' like he 
 would the p'ints iv a horse. He hez te spy out the 
 kickers en the balky ones, en wust iv all, them thet's 
 half mustang en half mule, en act accordin'. 
 
 " I 'low a man kin do a sight with flowin' words en 
 saft soap, but ez fer the mules en cross-breeds, saft 
 soap won't tetch 'em." 
 
THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 71 
 
 ''I agree with ye thar, brother Caverly," said the 
 Load-Bearer ; " when the meetin's anyways conflictin' 
 it air mighty hard te deal with the Word : some wants 
 singin', some wants preachin', en some wants pray in'." 
 
 " I reckon it air ez ye say ; but ye might ez well 
 send a retriever arter dead ducks with a tin kittle tied 
 te his tail ez te try te land some sinners with a long 
 string o' prayers. A man's got te roll up en wade in 
 hisself if he wants te find them thet's been winged. 
 "When folks sets en blinks like brown owels, 'thout 
 flappin' a wing er losin' a feather, I want te know 
 what a pore preacher kin do ! 'Tain't easy te tell 
 who's been tetched." 
 
 '' Thar's a sight o' difference a-twixt what a preacher 
 hez te do en what a politician hez," answered Elihu 
 Gest. "A preacher hez te wrastle with the sin's o' 
 the world every time he stands afore the people." 
 
 " Ye see," continued Zack Caverly, filling his pipe, 
 "the 'sponsibility ain't the same. In the meetin'- 
 house the man o' God ain't got but one kyind te 
 wrastle with, en thet air sinners. He's arter game 
 what cain't fly, seein' ez how they ain't angels yit; 
 en ez they'se occupyin' the floor he's 'bleeged te 
 shoot low, allowin' the crows a-settin' on the fence to 
 set right whar they be. 
 
 "But a politicioner's in a heap wuss fix; he's 
 'bleeged to deal with them what's on the fence, kase 
 he knows the crows air jes' waitin' to see which side 
 the fattest worms air a-comin' up on. But them thet's 
 plumb full o' religion ain't got no room fer worms." 
 
 He lit his pipe, took a few puffs, and then went on : 
 
 " I 'low them lawyers en j edges en stump-speakers 
 over at Springfield ain't fishin' fer snappin' turtles 
 
72 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 with nothin' but red feathers from a rooster's tail. A 
 politicioner nowadays hez got to be ez cunnin' ez a 
 possum thet's playin' dead, en a heap cuter 'n a cata- 
 mount a-layin' roun' fer the hull hog — fer if he ain't 
 he'll be ketched hisself . Think o' the all-fired perdica- 
 mints they find tharselves in ! Talk about wrastlin' 
 with sin en Satan, Elihu ! Why, thar ain't a stump- 
 meetin' but what aEepublican hez te spar the Demicrats 
 on a p'int o' law, en trip up the Know-nothin's on a 
 question o' niggers ; en while the Whigs air fannin' 
 him with brick-bats he's mighty lucky if he ain't 
 'spected te hold a candle te the devil while he's 
 a-bein' robbed o' purty nigh all his cowcumbers en 
 water-melons en more'n half his whisky en character." 
 
 At this moment the sudden arrival of three men on 
 horseback interrupted the conversation. 
 
 " Good evening, gentlemen," said the leader ; "have 
 you heard of any runaways about here within the last 
 day or two ? " 
 
 " I ain't beared o' none ; they don't never come this 
 way," Socrates replied. 
 
 " We're lookiDg for three runaway slaves that are 
 said to be somewhere in this vicinity." 
 
 '' 'Bout how long hev they been out ? " asked Lem 
 Stephens. 
 
 "We lost track of them two days ago; they are 
 somewhere near this creek." 
 
 " How many be they ? " 
 
 "Two women and a boy; there's a reward of five 
 hundred dollars." 
 
 " Let me go with ye," said Lem Stephens, hurriedly 
 going towards his horse ; " en if we don't see nothin' 
 of 'em to-night I'll help ye find 'em in the mornin." 
 
THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 73 
 
 After some futile words the three men and Lem 
 Stephens wished iis good-night and rode away. 
 
 By a sudden turn in the chain of events we had 
 been brought to the verge that divides the high level 
 of freedom from the abyss of bondage, and a feeling 
 of distress seized hold of the company. The two men 
 could find no words for speech. But out of the depths 
 of the night the voices of Nature assailed them : from 
 the woods behind us came the hooting and cries of 
 owl and wild cat, from the prairie came tiny insects 
 that floated past with buzzing whispers in the ears of 
 conscience, crickets sent a thrill of warning from under 
 the logs, tree-toads whistled near the creek, and a 
 whip-poor-will soared and called over the cabin and 
 the ghostly outlines of the woods. 
 
 Everything was fi'ee except the fugitives hovering 
 somewhere near the cabin : birds and animals could 
 roam about at will ; the comet had the universe for a 
 circuit ; Socrates, in his humble cabin, was a king in 
 his easy independence ; my father, with all his cares, 
 could go and come as he pleased ; Elihu Gest, in spite 
 his " loads," enjoyed the freedom of the earth as far as 
 his eyes could see or his horses carry him ; and now, 
 perhaps within a few hundred yards of us, three 
 human beings were still panting in the throes of 
 bondage. 
 
 But the time had come to speak, and as my father 
 and the drover joined us the Load-Bearer said : 
 
 " It air the mother en her boy en gal. I 'low they 
 ain't a-agoin' te be separated in this world." 
 
 "Ye talk ez if ye knowed all about it," remarked 
 Socrates; "but they'll be ketched afore to-morrer 
 noon if they air anywhar's roun' here." 
 
74 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 " I'm only tellin' ye my idee, en I reckon ye '11 find 
 I'm right." 
 
 The Load-Bearer walked to the other side of the 
 cabin and stood for some moments without speaking. 
 
 '' Jes' you keep still en set right whar ye be till I 
 come back," he said, returning towards us. 
 
 He walked along the road where it bordered the 
 woods. The three mounted men had come down this 
 road. We all wondered what impulse could have 
 induced him to take that direction. 
 
 The Load-Bearer had not been gone more than two 
 or three minutes before Zack Caverly's favourite 
 hound set up a plaintive whining under the cabin. 
 
 " Spy ! Keep still thar ! " said his master. 
 
 "Ye see," he went on, "that ole dog's got wind 
 o' sunthin' quare. I've larned 'em all te keep ez 
 still ez mice when me en other folks air about, but 
 thar's sunthin' unusual a-gettin' ready er Spy wouldn't 
 ez much ez sneeze. He beats all the dogs I ever hed. 
 Thet hound kin smell ! En ez fer hearin', I b'lieve 
 he kin hear what's a-goin' on most any whar 's. 
 
 " But ye wouldn't think he could tell shucks from 
 hoe-cakes, his looks air so innercent en pleadin' ! He 
 useter be the best fighter among 'em, but now he 
 knows 'tain't wisdom te be brash. 
 
 " It took me nigh on three year te larn him the 
 difference a-twixt wolf en b'ar, er skunk en wild cat, 
 en all the other varmints, en thet ain't sayin' nothin' 
 'bout two-legged creatur's. Ye see, it war this a- way : 
 I war 'bleeged te p'int te the head iv any varmint 
 thet hed been shot er trapped, usin' only one word, 
 en thet word meanin' the varmint ; en by callin' the 
 names over en over ag'in he got te know what I meant 
 
THE CABIN OF SOCKATES 75 
 
 ■when I asked : ' Air it wolf ? ' ' Air it bar' ?' en so on 
 plumb down tc ' 'Air it nigger ? ' " 
 
 Socrates now called on the honnd to come out. 
 
 Spy came to his master, and, looking into his face, 
 seemed to expect some command. Socrates began: 
 
 " Ail' it wolf ? " The dog gave no sign. "Air it 
 b'ar ? " Still no response. " Air it nigger ? " The old 
 dog gave unmistakable signs of assent. 
 
 "Them runaways ain't fur off," said Socrates; "but 
 I ain't a-goiu' to let Spy go arter 'em, he might skeer 
 'em away from Elihu ; en he'll bring 'em in if they're 
 alive en kickin'. If thar's anyone in this hull kintry 
 ez know's more'n thet ole hound it air Elihu Gest. 
 He's arter loads day en night, en he ain't happy onless 
 he's gettin' hisself into a bushel o' trouble. Ole Spy 
 en him war clost friends from the word Go, en I 
 reckon Elihu hez rescued more runaways than ary 
 other Abolitionist in this deestric' ; but they ain't 
 never ketched him at it ; they might ez well look fer 
 a sow's ear in a b'ar's den." 
 
 I thought I could hear the sound of voices in the 
 direction the Load-Bearer had gone, but I soon began 
 to think I must have been mistaken, for not till nearly 
 half-an-hour later did we hear him coming towards 
 the cabin. 
 
 He was walking as fast as he could, with a boy in 
 one arm and a woman leaning on the other. 
 
 " Great Jehosephat ! '' exclaimed Socrates ; "if Elihu 
 ain't got more'n enough fer a load. But he's mistaken 
 'bout thar bein' three on 'em. I 'low two's enough, 
 sech ez they be." 
 
 Elihu Gest came full into view; even with his firm 
 support the woman hanging on his arm was hardly 
 
76 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 able to walk. But scarcely had lie put down the boy 
 when another figure was seen approaching. It was 
 the woman's daughter — a handsome octoroon of about 
 seventeen — hobbling along with the aid of a crutch 
 made from a dry branch. 
 
 "I'll be durned if he warn't right arter all," 
 observed Socrates, hurrying into the cabin to make 
 a fire. 
 
 "We got plenty time ; them thet's scoutin' roun' 
 these diggin's won't be back ag'in to-night." 
 
 The fugitives were placed on the ground, with the 
 logs behind them as props, and the Load-Bearer 
 asked : 
 
 " 'Bout how long air it sence ye hed any vittles ?" 
 
 I could not hear the answer, but Elihu Gest 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Three days without vittles, en all on 'em mos' 
 dead!" 
 
 Elihu made haste with the coffee, while Socrates 
 was hurrying with the supper. 
 
 Once in a while a groan came from the group of 
 figures. The sound mingled with the mysteries of 
 the surrounding darkness. It put fresh courage into 
 the heart of the Load-Bearer, and strengthened him 
 to assume still greater burdens. Socrates worked in 
 silence, and during this time we were all wojidering 
 what ought to be done with the fugitives. To let 
 them be caught was out of the question, but what to 
 do with them after they had partaken of supper was 
 a point that puzzled everyone. My father thought it 
 dangerous to leave them so near the cabin. 
 
 To the great relief of all, the drover mounted his 
 horse and rode away, perhaps not wishing to become 
 
THE CABIN OF SOCRATES 77 
 
 involved in any responsibility and to steer clear of a 
 situation which might compromise him in the eyes of 
 the law. 
 
 ^'Looky here," remarked Zack Caverly to the Load- 
 Bearer, "ye don't reckon he's goin' over Lem Stephens' 
 way, do ye ? " 
 
 " I don't rekon he air ; 'pears like he allers turns 
 off thar by Ebenezer Hicks's cornfield." 
 
 The coffee was ready and the Load-Bearer and 
 Socrates were serving it out in the big blue china 
 cups which we had used at our supper — the bacon 
 and hoe-cakes would soon follow. 
 
 Every moment now seemed like an hour. 
 
 My father, Elihu, and Socrates went into the cabin 
 to talk over the affair and decide on what to do. 
 
 They were coming out of the cabin when the 
 drover returned bringing the news that the slave- 
 catchers had decided to pay Socrates another visit 
 that night. 
 
 It did not take long for the Load-Beai-er to come 
 to a decision. He called for aid, and one by one the 
 three runaways were lifted into his wagon. 
 
 " Whar be ye goin', Elihu? They've seed ye 
 here, en ye'll be called on shore en sartin." 
 
 " I don't know no more'n you ; but I ain't a-goin' 
 te stop till God Almighty tells me." 
 
 He drove off into the night, taking the road to the 
 east. We followed on the same road shortly after, 
 but met no one on the way home. When we arrived 
 at the Log-House we found that it, too, had been 
 visited by the slave-hunters. 
 
CHAPTER YII 
 
 AT THE POST-OFFICE 
 
 One morning I went with my father to the post- 
 office, which was in a small store by the railway 
 station, about six miles distant. 
 
 How bleak and forsaken it was ! The place con- 
 sisted of two houses and some freight cars shunted off 
 the main line. The prairie here had a desolate look, 
 but to the north lay a wooded district, and here my 
 father brought me to stand on a small embankment to 
 watch the train coming up around a curve out of the 
 woods. 
 
 The sight made an impression that was lasting, for 
 at this moment it is just as vivid as it was then. It 
 made my nerves tingle and opened the door to a new 
 world of wonders. The train itself, filled with pas- 
 sengers, did not interest me : it was the engine, with 
 its puffing steam, its cow-catcher, and its imposing 
 smoke-stack, that possessed the attraction. 
 
 The day soon came, however, when the locomotive 
 took the second place in my imagination and the pas- 
 sengers the first. What, after all, was the steam- 
 engine compared with human beings, animals, and 
 birds ? What was its smoke and movement com- 
 pared with pictures of earth, sky, and water ? At 
 rest, the locomotive ceased to interest ; but the aspect 
 of the world was always changing. A landscape 
 had its four seasons. Every manifestation of Nature 
 
AT THE POST-OFFICE 79 
 
 harmonised with some mood or condition of the mind, 
 and I watched the buzzards and blue-birds, the cranes 
 and chick-a-dees, the rabbits and squirrels, with 
 renewed and ever-increasing interest. Nature changed, 
 but never grew stale. The air was full of song and 
 colour, the earth full of forms and movement, and the 
 rapid motion of a garter-snake was, after all, more 
 fascinating than the movement of an engine with its 
 train of cars ; and how could the noise of the puffing 
 compare with a chorus of red-winged blackbii'ds ? 
 Nature is the one perennial charm. 
 
 But this was not the opinion of poor Monsieur 
 Duval, one of the unfortunate settlers who had mis- 
 taken the wilderness for a ready-made paradise. All 
 the loungers at the post-office looked like members of 
 the same family excepting this Frenchman and a 
 German settler whom they called " Dutchy." Duval 
 resembled a shipwrecked mariner among the inhabi- 
 tants of some remote island, the secret of whose 
 language and customs he could not fathom. But he 
 and the German were full of life, while the others 
 seemed too listless and lazy to do more than whittle 
 sticks and once in a while hit a certain spot by an 
 expectoration of tobacco- juice. 
 
 The scene was set-off by rows of tea- canisters, 
 coffee-sacks, bolts of calico, sugar-barrels, bacon, rice, 
 and plug- tobacco, with sundry farming implements 
 stored at the back, and a few pigeon-holes for letters. 
 
 The shuffling figure of the goateed proprietor stood 
 in the midst of all, a little taller and perhaps a little 
 more languid than any of the others, too indifferent to 
 talk, yet putting in a word now and again mechanically 
 without stopping to calculate the effect of what he 
 
80 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 said and without being interested in any person or 
 thing. He aroused my interest as soon as he said to 
 my father : 
 
 " Wal, I'm going to wind her up — goin' to vamose." 
 
 " Going to leave us ? " 
 
 " Ya-as," he drawled ; " goin' to wind up and move 
 on." 
 
 A man sitting on the edge of a large box, half-filled 
 with empty sacks, called out : 
 
 " Which a- way ? " 
 
 " Over to Pike kyounty," was the answer. 
 
 The Frenchman, who was standing against the 
 counter, straightened up. 
 
 "Me, too," he exclaimed, tapping his bosom once 
 for each word, " me, too, I wind her up, I go 
 vamose." 
 
 " Goin' to sell out, too ? " 
 
 " If I no sell heem I geef heem way," he answered 
 with a gesture of supreme disgust. 
 
 "How long have you been here?" asked the 
 storekeeper. 
 
 " Two, tree year." 
 
 " Hardly long enough to give the country a fair 
 trial," said my father. 
 
 " Try heem ! I geef him plenty tam. Ze farm he 
 try me lak Job was try wiz hees sheep an' hees 
 camelle! " 
 
 " Have you had much illness ? " 
 
 " Do I look seek ? My wife, my son, meself, we 
 work lak niggair. We haf no tam for eat, no tam for 
 sleep, no tam for wash ourself." 
 
 " You must have taken up too much land. Most of 
 the trouble comes from that." 
 
AT THE POST-OFFICE 81 
 
 " No, monsieur, we no haf too much, but we been 
 too much for ze land." 
 
 " I suppose you are from some part of the 
 South ? " 
 
 " Me, I come from New Orleans. I haf one big 
 family ; I lose heem wiz ze yellow fevair. My 
 friends say, ' You go up ze Mississippi, you 'scape 
 ze fevair.' I tak my wife an' son to Saint-Louis. 
 Some one say, 'You tak one farm in Illinois, ze soil 
 she been so rich you scratch heem two, tree tarn wiz 
 hoe, everyzing come up while you look ! ' Wen I 
 come on ze farm ze soil she been too hard for scratch ; 
 I get one plough, so long, for cut ze big root, an four 
 pair ox for pool her. But ze wild cat come in ze 
 night ; she clam up ze tree an' tak ze turkey ; ze fox 
 brak in ze hen-house an' tak ze chicken. In ze 
 morning I find ze haid an' some feddair." 
 
 He stopped to consider a moment, then continued : 
 " I keep some bee for mak bees' wax. I go look — 
 I find ze hive sprawl on ze groun', zey haf left me 
 nozzing ! " 
 
 '' What animal do you suppose it was ?" 
 '' Tell me, monsieur, do ze fox lak for eat ze bee ? 
 Do ze wild cat lak for chew ze bees' wax 1 Do ze 
 mink lak for haf her nose sting '? Ah, monsieur, I 
 lak for some one tell me zat ! " 
 
 Duval gave a fierce look at the man sitting on the 
 box, for he had just fallen over on the sacks in a 
 spasm of laughter, his feet in the air, and we con- 
 cluded he could tell what had become of the French- 
 man's bees if he chose. 
 
 ''But zat is not ze worst," he went on. " One tam 
 I haf ver' good crop. Ze com, ze legume, ze poomkin, 
 v.s. o 
 
82 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 she been all plant an' come up. But ze army-worm 
 she come! I^ext day I go look — she leave me 
 nozzing but ze cobble-stone." 
 
 Then, as if he had forgotten something, he added : 
 
 " Ze cow come home an' I go for milk her — she 
 been dry lak my old boot; ze worm haf eat her 
 foddair ! " 
 
 He let his arms fall in a limp gesture of resignation, 
 and taking from his pocket a cheap cigar, and leaning 
 with one arm on the counter, he began smoking, 
 letting out great puiFs through his nose as if in this 
 way he were getting rid of all the evil things con- 
 nected with pioneer life. 
 
 The hang-dog faces of the men sitting and lolling 
 about were enlivened by grins, and ironical remarks 
 were freely indulged in. 
 
 " Say, Frenchy," said the man sitting on the box, 
 " what'U ye take te hire out jes' te keep away b'ars 
 en' skunks ? " 
 
 Duval gave the man one contemptuous look. Evi- 
 dently he was not going to answer. He smoked while 
 he walked carelessly towards the box, and when 
 within a few feet of it made a sudden, cat-like bound 
 at the man, clutching his throat with the grip of a 
 frenzied gorilla while he forced him down into the 
 box head foremost. 
 
 The onlookers, stunned by the suddenness of the 
 attack, seemed dazed and helpless, staring at the 
 scene as if held by some horrible fascination. Then a 
 gurgling sound came from the victim, causing someone 
 to cry out : 
 
 *' I'll be hanged if he ain't chokin' him to death ! " 
 
 " I'm durned if he ain't ! " exclaimed someone else. 
 
AT THE POST-OFFICE 83 
 
 " Haul hira off ! " shouted the store-keeper, roused 
 out of his lethargy; "we don't want no dead men 
 round here ! " 
 
 The store-keeper, assisted by one of the man's 
 friends, began to tug at the Frenchman. Hardly had 
 they done so when a man with a knife made a rush 
 for Duval ; but the " Dutchman " was waiting his 
 chance ; he felled him to the floor by one quick blow 
 from his great, open hand, the hard, thick palm and 
 huge, long fingers making a splitting noise like a 
 blade of steel on a sheet of ice. 
 
 " No ! By sheemany ! " he growled, as he picked 
 up the knife and shook it in their faces, " You don't 
 come dem games here ! Ven you gif me dat shifferee 
 I hef some buckshot ready, but mine vife she don't 
 let me shoot nodding. Now I gif you someding mit 
 interest," and with that he brought the same open 
 hand down on the man who had helped to pull Duval 
 off his victim. He fell to the floor as if struck with a 
 mallet, and I shuddered, for he seemed to be stone 
 dead. This was the third surprise within a few 
 seconds. The man in the box was not yet able to 
 rise to his feet, but Duval was looking about him 
 ready for more work and well inclined to keep it 
 going. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was all 
 a-fire. He stood like some ferocious animal in the 
 arena ready for any opponent, with a firm faith in his 
 two hands, his two legs, his nimble body and his quick 
 wit, while the "Dutchman " had good reason to pin 
 his faith to a pair of broad palms, which resembled the 
 paws of a bear in thickness, and a body unimpaired 
 by fiery whisky and malarial fever. 
 
 Two of the gang were now placed hors de combat, 
 
 Q 2 
 
84 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 and this without the use of knives or firearms. It 
 was now four against two, and the Frenchman had 
 evidently summed up the situation at a glance ; with 
 a quick, twisting movement he turned his body like a 
 practised wrestler, and the man standing beside him 
 found himself sprawling on the floor, his feet knocked 
 from under him by the deft manoeuvres of Duval's 
 foot. 
 
 All was now over. After this the gang resembled 
 nothing so much as a pack of whipped dogs, and the 
 stillness that reigned in the store had something of 
 the stillness of the battle-field after the fury of the 
 battle. 
 
 Duval and the *' Dutchman " left the store together 
 and became close friends from that day. 
 
CHAPTER YIII 
 
 MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEAREr's HOME. 
 
 Mr mother was busy getting ready for another 
 baking. She had baked the day before, and I could 
 not help wondering what all the extra bread was for. 
 
 I had not long to wait for an answer to my thoughts : 
 she stopped in the middle of her work, cleaned the 
 rolling pin of dough, and went to the pantry, where 
 she stood and looked for some moments at the things 
 inside. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " she said, with one of her gentle sighs 
 which I always understood so well ; " there is not 
 much, but what there is must go to-day, and in a day 
 or two I shall send more." 
 
 Out came all the bread and the meat and a pound 
 of coffee, with sugar. These were stored away in the 
 saddle-bags, for she said it was too far to walk and I 
 would have to saddle my pony. 
 
 "But where to ? " I asked with surprise. 
 
 " To Mrs. Gest's ; these things are for her." 
 
 " The Load-Bearer married ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " Why, of course he's married, like all good Chris- 
 tians," she observed, smiling; "and you'll be married 
 too, some day, when the proper time comes." 
 
 I had pictured him as a kind of hermit, living some- 
 where all alone, perhaps being fed by ravens, like 
 Elijah the prophet ; and even now I could hardly 
 believe that he had a regular, fixed abode. 
 
86 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 I was to tell Mrs. Gest she could count on my 
 mother's aid when she had " visitors from the South," 
 which meant fugitive slaves trying to reach Canada. 
 
 The affair at the cabin of Socrates had been discussed 
 between my parents, and this was the result. 
 
 No member of the family had ever been to the home 
 of Elihu Gest. We knew he lived near a large creek, 
 some four or five miles south-west of the meeting- 
 house, so off I went in the full belief that I would 
 find the place by asking here and there on the way. 
 
 The country beyond the meeting-house was like 
 another world to me. The prairie, the dim outline of 
 the woods beyond, the atmosphere, all combined to 
 produce a sense of freshness and novelty, and the 
 effect on my mind could not have been greater had I 
 gone a hundred miles from home. 
 
 After riding what seemed to me a long distance a 
 man in a wagon directed me to a road bordering a 
 strip of wood which led into a region of trees and 
 underbrush, with patches of prairie here and there, 
 and vistas of the creek and the undulating ground 
 beyond. The land had a gentle slope towards the 
 water. The beech trees rose to a great height, and 
 now and then, through an opening in the woods, I 
 could see a distance of two miles ; but in most places 
 the world all around was hidden by rocky knobs, thick 
 underbrush and immense trees. 
 
 '' What a place to hide in ! " I thought ; and I was 
 beginning to fear my search for the house would not 
 end in success, when I heard the barking of a dog some 
 considerable distance to the left. Stopping to consider 
 what to do, I detected faint tracks of wagon wheels 
 leading in that direction. I followed as best I could 
 
MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEARER'S HOME 87 
 
 over a parterre of leaves, moss, and the dehris of 
 decayed timber. 
 
 Penetrating still farther, I came upon a clearing, 
 and then I canght a glimpse of a small frame house 
 almost hidden by trees and shrubs. As I approached, 
 three savage dogs, which I at first took to be wolves, 
 chained up, began a fierce barking and howling. As 
 I was about to get off my pony and ask if Elihu Gest 
 lived here, a thin, pale-faced woman, her hair streaked 
 with grey, opened the door. Then, wiping her mouth 
 with her apron, she exclaimed : 
 
 " Bless ye, sonny, ye ain't come with bad news, hev 
 ye ? My ole man's been gone two full days en 
 nights ! " 
 
 It was Cornelia Gest, the Load-Bearer's wife. 
 
 I told her who had sent me and what I had brought ; 
 but it did not allay her anxiety when I recounted the 
 incidents at the cabin of Socrates. 
 
 " Git right down en come in, en tell me all about 
 it," she said ; "I 'spect ye need a rest. It allers 
 makes my head ache ridin' over the prairie in the 
 hot sun," 
 
 I got off the pony, and after tying up took the 
 things into the kitchen. 
 
 " Land ! How good yer ma is," she exclaimed, 
 *' sendin' me all these things, in case o' needcessity. 
 Elihu tole me 'bout her. Some folks don't need te 
 hev wings te be angels. How did yer ma know I 
 hedn't but one loaf o' bread left ? It do beat all how 
 things work out ! I 'lowed te do some bakin' to-day^ 
 but somehow I couldn't git te work. 'Pears like 
 when Elihu's away en I don't know his whereabouts 
 I cain't git nothin' done ! Law me ! if here ain't 
 
88 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 coffee ! Elihu ain't never ceased talkin' 'bout yer 
 ma's coffee. What does she cl'ar it with ? " 
 
 All this time I was wondering what she would do 
 if her husband should fail to return before evening. 
 
 " I'm right glad ye've come te cher a body ; the 
 hours air longer when ye're mos' dead worryin.' 
 "When he stayed away afore he 'lowed he wouldn't 
 hev time te git back, en I warn't noways a-f eared he'd 
 got hisself into trouble." 
 
 There was something in her voice and look that 
 aroused my sympathy. 
 
 "I set up all las' night pray in' en readin' in the 
 Good Book," she went on; " 'twarn't in mortal natur' 
 te sleep." 
 
 She seemed far away in thought. Her eyes were fixed 
 on the floor, and I began to ask myself why everyone 
 had so much trouble. As I only sat and listened she 
 had become unconscious of my presence in the house ; 
 but after a while she straightened up and resumed : 
 
 " I reckon he tuck the runaways over te Uriah Busby's 
 en from there he'll take 'em on te the nex' station." 
 
 She mused for a time again, and then continued : 
 
 " But it ain't easy ; the resks air turrible ; but then, 
 ez Elihu sez, when the Lord en His hosts air with ye 
 thar ain't no call te feel skeered. Elihu en Ike 
 Snedeker en Ebenezer Carter en Tom Melendy, they 
 don't none o' them know what it air te fail." 
 
 After sitting for some time without speaking, all of 
 a sudden she clasped her hands and rose from her 
 seat, and stretching out her thin, bare arms, with 
 trembling body and quivering lips, her voice went up 
 in a long, loud wail : 
 
 " Lord, help a pore fersaken woman ! Help me 
 
MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEARER'S HO^IE 89 
 
 this day, fer my troubles air more'n I kin bear without 
 Ye. Make it so I kin set here alone without repinin' ; 
 send Elihu home, oh my Lord en my God, fer I cain't 
 live without him." 
 
 Her look appalled me. I saw grief manifest in words 
 and gesture. ... I pictured to myself my mother 
 pleading with the Eternal. I imagined what the Log- 
 House would be with my father absent and his 
 whereabouts unknown. 
 
 How I wished to say something comforting to the 
 lonely woman standing there, but I, who could never 
 express to my mother what I thought and felt when 
 she was in trouble, could not find words to comfort a 
 stranger. I was overcome with a pity and sympathy 
 which I was powerless to express in words, and I 
 wondered what would become of the little home in the 
 woods if the Load-Eearer never returned. It seemed 
 as if I had kno^vIl this house and its occupants all my 
 life, that we were in some way closely related. 
 
 I proposed to ride over to the Busbys for any news 
 I could gather there. It would take about an hour 
 and a half. But we could arrive at no decision, and I 
 was thinking of returning when we saw Elihu Gest 
 slowly wending his way home through the most 
 unfrequented part of the woods. He had followed 
 the creek a good part of the way, and his wagon seemed 
 full of farming implements and sacks of grain. 
 
 Cornelia Gest stood at the door awaiting his arrival. 
 
 " Fer the Land's sake ! " she ejaculated when he got 
 within talking distance, " whar hev ye been ? " 
 
 She paused a moment and then continued : 
 
 " I don't know whether I'm looking right at ye er 
 whether it's yer ghost a-drivin' them bosses. How 
 
90 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 d'ye low I've been settin' here two endurin' nights 
 through without ye ? " 
 
 " IN'ow, Cornely," he pleaded, " don't ye take on so. 
 When I tell ye all about it ye'll be 'sprised en mighty 
 glad I didn't come right home from the post-office. 
 But I want ye te help me unload right here, fer it 
 don't matter whar we set these things." 
 
 We all went to work. The implements, or what I 
 took to be such, were soon placed on the ground, but 
 the sacks, instead of containing grain or potatoes, were 
 filled with straw. We lifted off those nearest the dash- 
 board, the Load-Bearer flung back a horse-blanket, and 
 three faces, frightened, haggard, and woe-begone, 
 looked out from the hay underneath. It was the 
 quadroon mother and her two octoroon children. 
 
 " White folks ! " gasped Cornelia, stunned by the 
 unexpected. 
 
 " I 'low the two air white enough, more's the pity," 
 assented Elihu. 
 
 "Goodness me! Elihu Gest!" protested Cornelia 
 when the two stepped into the kitchen ; " we ain't got 
 no place fer white folks. Thar's plenty vittles, but we 
 ain't got no room, ye know we ain't ; en two on 'em 
 look like they hedn't but one more breath te let out 
 en they war holdin' on to it till they got here." 
 
 " Wal, now," he said, " jes' give me a leetle time te 
 let out my breath, fer me, too, I've been holdin' it in 
 ever sence night afore last." 
 
 But she persisted : 
 
 " Whar on the face o' this y earth hev ye fished out 
 sech a load ? Ye ain't never carried home nothin' te 
 ekil it ! Whar hev ye been ? Do tell ! " 
 
 " Why, ain't Bub here told ye ? " 
 
MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEARER'S HOME 91 
 
 '' He told me 'bout throe runaways ye found over at 
 Zack Cavcrly's, two on 'em mos' dead." 
 
 " Jes' so, en I driv 'em te brother Busby's, whar I 
 war oblceged te wait fer a good chance te git away, 
 en now they air in the wagon thar.'' 
 
 Cornelia sank into a seat. Amazement and indig- 
 nation were depicted on every feature. Her jaws 
 were firmly set and I could hear her teeth grate. 
 
 " White slaves ! " she groaned. " I know ye ain't 
 given te jokes, Elihu, but I cain't git it into my head 
 how thar kin be slaves thet air ez white ez we be; 
 somehow I couldn't never believe it ; but accordin' te 
 your tellin' I've got te believe it, and now I've seen it 
 with my own eyes." 
 
 She did not seem like the woman who, a short time 
 before, was complaining of her sorrows and tribulations. 
 Indignation had given way to a desire to act, to help, 
 to save the lives of the fugitives and send them on 
 their way towards Canada. 
 
 "I war calc'latin' te bring 'em in the house," 
 remarked the Load-Bearer, as the two left the kitchen 
 and walked over to the wagon, " but I reckon it air 
 safer to take 'em te the barn. Thar '11 be a mite iv a 
 chance thet if any one comes arter 'em they won't go 
 te the barn te look." 
 
 " Wal," agreed Cornelia, "thar ain't no objections 
 te clean, new hay fer beds, en we kin take some things 
 over from the house." 
 
 " To-morrer I'll hev te step about en find a new 
 hidin'-place, fer I heerd another band o' runaways 
 air summairs south o' here, en they may be along 
 afore we know it." 
 
 "Don't ye go te doin' too much all te oncet," 
 
92 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 interposed his wife, " er ye'll be ailin' en things '11 
 be a sight wuss." 
 
 " To-morrer I'll take 'em te the cave by the creek. 
 I 'lowed te hev it all fixed afore now, but things hev 
 come about mighty sudden. Thet cave needs a heap 
 o' fixin'. I ain't bed no sleep fer two nights en I 
 skasely know what I'm a-doin'." 
 
 For the first time I took notice of the Load-Bearer's 
 tired face. His eyes expressed the hope and faith 
 which inspired him, but a great weariness made his 
 walk heavy and his movements slow. 
 
 It was all Elihu and Cornelia Gest could do to get 
 the eldest of the two women out of the wagon and 
 into the barn. There was enough to keep all hands 
 busy. I ran to and fro with blankets and pillows, 
 while Mrs. Gest attended to the immediate wants of 
 the fugitives. 
 
 "When I had done all I could at the barn and 
 returned to the house, I found Socrates standing close 
 to the dogs. He was evidently in one of his keenest 
 talking moods : 
 
 " Ye kin kyount on what I'm tellin' ye," he was 
 saying. *•' I hev fit varmints my hull life, en hev 
 teached dogs, en I hev fed 'em so ez te make 'em win. 
 Mebbe ye'll be in fer a fight afore long, en ye cain't 
 keep 'em chained 'thout hevin' em fall off' some en git 
 sorter limp in the fore-legs — reecollect a dog fights ez 
 much with his legs ez he does with his teeth. If Lem 
 Stephens's blood-hoimds come nosin' up this way ye'll 
 be in fer a lively kick-up." 
 
 " I've been wonderin' how ye keep yer dogs so 
 sleek and spry," remarked the Load-Bearer. " What 
 d'ye feed 'em on ? Any pertickler kyind o' meat ? " 
 
MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEARER'S HOME 93 
 
 ^' Give 'em mos' any thin' but liver, en let 'em run 
 roun' consider'ble. But tie 'em up en starve 'em 
 fer a day er so afore ye calc'late te use 'em fer any 
 fightin'." 
 
 Zack Caverly was eyeing with extraordinary inte- 
 rest the three huge wolf-hounds, whose cold, agate 
 eyes conjured up in my imagination images of the 
 haunts of wolf and bear and the cruel romance of 
 wold and wilderness. Compared with the Load- 
 Bearer's dogs the hounds at the cabin of Socrates 
 were the incarnation of docility and affection. 
 
 The wolf-hounds gave us a look now and then of 
 glacial indifference. There was no caressing to be 
 indulged in here, no patting on the back, no words of 
 encouragement expected or needed. I could not dis- 
 tinguish any difference between them — they all looked 
 the same height, colour, and size — but the Load- 
 Bearer knew the characteristics of each. 
 
 As I looked at the wolf-hounds, and then at the 
 meek, compassionate face of Elihu Gest, I was struck 
 with the incongruity of the scene : the dogs all 
 ferocity, the man all meekness. But from that 
 moment I saw the Load-Bearer in a new light. Under 
 the humane countenance there dwelt the inflexible 
 will, the inexorable determination to dare and to do. 
 How different he was now, standing beside his wolf- 
 hounds, from what he looked on his first visit to the 
 Log-House 1 The benevolent look was still there, but 
 the vague, dreamy expression was gone, and in its 
 place appeared a realisation of present responsibilities. 
 Plotting and planning had taken the place of dreams. 
 
 ''They don't need no coddlin'," observed Socrates, 
 as he eyed them one after the other, slowly and 
 
94 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 critically. '' I ain't seed no dog-flesh ekil to 'em sence 
 I war down in Tennessee, en if ye treat 'em ez I say 
 ye'll hev good reason te be thankful, Elihu." 
 
 " The Lord made 'em, brother Caverly, en they air 
 here according te His will, en I'm right glad ye see 
 thar p'ints air p'ints te reckon on." 
 
 " I ain't seed thar ekil," he declared, giving the 
 Load-Bearer a knowing look ; " they're ez full o' 
 p'ints ez a porcupine air o' quills, en I reckon it ain't 
 no ways discommodin' fer a man in your cirkinstances 
 te hev sech pets lay in' roun', jes' pinin' away kase tha 
 ain't no live meat fer te clean thar teeth on." 
 
 '' 'Pears like they ain't got no feelin's, 'ceptin' fer 
 huntin' en fightin'," remarked Elihu, contemplating 
 the animals much as he would so many savage 
 Indians. 
 
 " They don't show no pertickler likin' fer any- 
 body," returned Socrates; "but ye'll allow a good 
 wagger makes a pore watcher, en some on 'em 
 gits more'n enough te eat by not knowin' they hev 
 tails." 
 
 " If thar ain't Sister Busby ! " exclaimed the Load- 
 Bearer, as Serena emerged from the woods on a big, 
 slow, floundering sorrel. 
 
 Elihu Gest seemed ill at ease when he saw her 
 coming. She came like a rain-cloud, and her presence 
 threw a cold douche over all. Serena Busby's tongue 
 was all the more dangerous because her intentions 
 were good and everybody liked her, but she was apt 
 to tell the gravest secrets without being conscious of 
 what she was saying. 
 
 " Where's Cornely ? " she shouted, before the sorrel 
 came to a stop at the kitchen door. 
 
MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEARER'S HOME 95 
 
 " I've brought ye over some b'ars grease en cam- 
 pliire," she went on as she caught sight of Mrs, Gest 
 coming from the barn. " I forgot all about it this 
 mornin' when Elihu left, everyone bein' so 
 flustered." 
 
 '' How good ye be ! " said Cornelia. " I war sayin' 
 to Elihu jes' now thet we hedn't nothin' in the house 
 to rub with, en the gal's ankle do need 'tendin' to. Ez 
 fer gittin' a doctor, 'tain't no use thinkin' o' sech 
 a thing. Thar ain't no one 'cept Doc. Reed in Jack- 
 sonville we could trust to keep the secret, en he's too 
 fur away." 
 
 " This is what we all use fer sprains en bruises," 
 replied Serena. "Ye know she ain't hed no bones 
 broke. It all come about by havin' te jump over 
 logs like rabbits with hounds after 'em that night 
 when the slave-hunters were on thar tracks. It's 
 horrible te see the poor thing suffer so ! But 
 her mother is plumb used up ; she wouldn't taste a 
 mite 'o vittles over to my house, en I tried her 
 with everything. Sakes alive ! " she exclaimed, put- 
 ting her hand into a deep pocket and taking out a 
 small parcel, "I mos' forgot the tea; it's green 
 tea, Cornely — some that Uriah got the last time he 
 was down to Alton, en if that don't make her set 
 up nothin' will. It'll give her backbone. But law ! 
 ain't the children white ! It was the boy's curly 
 hair made me think o' runaways, but I declare I'd 
 take 'em fer white folks if they was dressed up real 
 nice." 
 
 " I didn't take no pertickler notice the night Elihu 
 diskivered 'em," observed Socrates, "en I ain't seed 
 'em sence — not te look squar' at 'em." 
 
96 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 Cornelia Gest had no more to say. She pretended 
 a deep interest in the things Mrs. Busby had brought, 
 but her mind was elsewhere. Her face looked what 
 she felt. 
 
 " Ain't ye goin' te git off en stop a spell, Sister 
 Busby ? " inquired the Load-Bearer, with bland 
 apathy. 
 
 '' Yes, do," said his wife ; " shorely ye ain't goin' 
 back 'thout seein' whar we've put 'em. We've done 
 the best we could ; it's a sight cleaner'n some beds 
 I've slept in afore now." 
 
 " I promised Uriah te be right back without tyin' 
 up, but I'll git off en make 'em a real nice cup o' this 
 here tea, en we'll take it over to 'em." 
 
 ''They've hed coffee," observed Cornelia, with an 
 effort to be polite and as a mild protest against green 
 tea. 
 
 The two women went into the kitchen, and I heard 
 the Load-Bearer remark : 
 
 " Sister Busby's got a sight o' boss sense, but she 
 do need the bridle now and ag'in." 
 
 " Sereny's jes' like a skittish yearling," commented 
 Socrates; "but don't ye go te bridlin' her tongue er 
 she'll take the bit 'twixt her teeth en a prairie fire 
 won't head her off. Give her plenty tetherin'-groun' 
 en plenty fac's te nibble on, but don't let her chaw too 
 close te the stumps." 
 
 "Ye kin lead a filly te the trough, Brother 
 Caverly, but ye cain't make her drink more'n jes' 
 so much. Some folks air allers thirstin' fer water 
 from other folks's wells, but nothin' but a runnin' 
 stream o' gossip will slake Sister Busby's thii'st fer 
 more knowledge." 
 
MY VISIT TO THE LOAD-BEARER'S HOME 97 
 
 " Thet's a fac', thet's a fac' ; but the wust is tae 
 stream runs squar' through your diggin's." 
 
 " Ez things are goin' now, Sereny knows 'nough te 
 want te know a heap more. I'm plumb with ye when 
 ye tell me not te let her nibble till she comes to the 
 cobble-stones." 
 
 The tea was soon made, for Mrs. Gest had kept the 
 fire going and the water hot. 
 
 No sooner had she and Mrs. Busby disappeared into 
 the barn than Alek Jordan came galloping up by the 
 shortest cut from the main road. 
 
 " Harm told me te give ye this," he said to the 
 Load-Bearer, handing him a letter ; *' it's from Isaac 
 Snedeker; he give it te marm te send." 
 
 Elihu opened and read, while Zack Caverly stood 
 and waited for the news. 
 
 The Load-Bearer heaved a sigh : 
 " Brother Snedeker sez he's a-comin' here to-morrer 
 night with eight runaways." 
 
 " Whoop-ee ! " exclaimed Socrates. 
 Then a thought struck him. 
 
 " Looky here, Alek," he said, " you jes' light out 
 ez quick ez ever ye kin ; thar's some un at the barn 
 thet musn't know ye've been here. Don't ye wait a 
 minnit ; take the trail through the woods by the creek 
 ez fur ez ye kin er mebbe the runaways '11 git 
 ketched." 
 
 The Load-Bearer had his eyes fixed on the bam, 
 expecting every moment to see Mrs. Busby emerge 
 and then ride part of the way home with Alek Jordan, 
 when more than one secret would be revealed con- 
 cerning the intentions of Isaac Snedeker. 
 
 Alek, whose horse was young and in fine condition, 
 y.s. H 
 
98 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 was off at a bound, the animal clearing like a buck 
 every obstacle in his path. 
 
 Hardly had he got out of sight when Serena Busby 
 made her appearance, followed by Cornelia Gest, 
 who, weary and distracted, let the visitor do all the 
 talking. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 A NIGHT OF MYSTERY 
 
 On certain evenings my father would sit before the 
 big, open fireplace and watch with unalloyed satisfac- 
 tion the burning logs. He would see pictures in the 
 blazing wood, and he had a science of his own in the 
 mingling of different logs. 
 
 " How well that dried hickory burns with the damp 
 walnut ! " he would say, taking the tongs and shifting 
 the pieces, now a little more to the front, now a little 
 farther back. 
 
 He taught me to see castles, people, and faces in 
 the flames and embers, and I knew what colours to 
 expect from the different woods. He kept some that 
 were full of sap, that would burn slowly ; others were 
 split up to dry. While sitting before the fire on a 
 clear, bracing night my father was wont to forget 
 every care and abandon himself to the pure pleasures 
 of the hearth. He would dream of the past, of friends 
 in the old country, and more than once he would 
 remark to me, taking the tongs and pointing : 
 "There's a face that reminds me of poor So-and-so." 
 He loved to revisit the old familiar scenes while the 
 fire gave them momentary life and set them before 
 him in frames of gold and flaming opal. Then he 
 would tell me stories of the wild animals of the old 
 homestead, of the tracks of the marten in the snow, and 
 how he discovered its hiding-place ; of a memorable 
 
 H 2 
 
100 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 fox hunt when one of his friends held the fox up 
 by the tail and another friend cried out from a dis- 
 tance : " Don't hurt the fox ! don't hurt the fox ! " 
 and of his sojourn in Paris during the reign of Louis 
 Philippe. 
 
 At such times my mother added a spirit of cheerful- 
 ness by some joyful exclamation, such as : " There's 
 a letter in the candle ! " as if the simple expression in 
 itself would assist the arrival of good news from afar ; 
 and when I looked I saw a large flaming blot, on the 
 side of the wick, pointing toward us. 
 
 I cannot remember whether the letters arrived, as 
 the candle so often announced ; but how vividly I 
 recollect the nights when I lay awake in the next 
 room and heard my parents discuss the uncertainty of 
 the future, the imminent need of funds to carry on 
 the work of the farm, and the possibility of failure 
 and ruin ! Such conversations occurred after the 
 other members of the family had gone to bed, but I 
 heard everything, and night after night I listened to 
 these talks, and racked my brain wondering how it 
 would all end. My distress was even greater than 
 that of my mother, for she knew what I did not, and 
 she could still hope. 
 
 After such talks the quivering song of the cricket 
 dotted the stillness with an accent of deeper melan- 
 choly, while the heavy pendulum slowly measured 
 out the minutes between midnight and the dismal 
 twilight of dawn. 
 
 We were all sitting quietly together the evening 
 after my visit to the Load-Bearer's home, my mother 
 with the Bible in her lap — the only book she ever 
 read while in the Log-House — my father reading a 
 
A NIGHT OF MYSTERY 101 
 
 newspaper containing an account of a recent speecli by 
 Abraham Lincoln. My mother's face looked paler 
 and more pensive than usual, for, some days previous 
 to this, my father had had a misunderstanding with 
 one of the settlers. The only weapon in the house 
 was a double-barrelled gun, and even this stood 
 unloaded against the wall in a comer of the sitting- 
 room. No dog was kept on the place, for the reason 
 that a dog was regarded as one of the things most 
 likely to cause trouble with the neighbours. 
 
 The wind was blowing across the prairie from the 
 east. My mother seemed apprehensive, and I must 
 have caught some of the thoughts which filled her 
 mind with gloomy presentiments. During a lull of 
 the wind a sound reached us from the prairie. It 
 might have been a shout or a call. How vividly it 
 all comes before me now ! She looked inquiringly at 
 my father, who was absorbed in his newspaper and 
 heard nothing. I needed no words to tell me what 
 she was thinking ; her face assumed a grave and 
 anxious look. I was hoping the sound might be 
 nothing more than the noise of belated travellers 
 passing on horseback when we heard it again, like 
 a confused, mumbling menace — this time a little 
 nearer, still disguised in the muffled wind. She 
 walked into the next room, greatly agitated, but 
 instantly returned and began to read in the Prayer- 
 book. 
 
 My father had just put aside his newspaper when 
 a low, hollow murmur came from the prairie. 
 
 "What can it be?" asked my mother in a voice 
 scarcely audible. Without answering, he went into 
 the next room for the ammunition, took the gun from 
 
102 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 the corner and began to load with buckshot. It 
 seemed to me he had never looked so tall, so grim, so 
 determined as when he rammed the wadding down 
 with the ramrod. Then he went to the front door 
 and listened. My mother sat with closed eyes like 
 one in a trance, until it seemed to me as if by some 
 unaccountable hocus-pocus we had been thrust into a 
 world where pantomime and mystery had taken the 
 place of speech, and we were waiting for some sudden 
 and terrible stroke of destiny. What was going to 
 happen ? Was it the end of all things at the Log- 
 House ? 
 
 My father decided not to go out by the front way, 
 and after the light was removed he opened the kitchen 
 door and stood outside in the dark. 
 
 " The moon is just rising," said my mother in a 
 half-whisper, looking through the window of the 
 front room. Then I looked, and as the clouds drifted 
 by I saw the moon in the shape of a gleaming scythe, 
 A sudden chill of autumn had come to the house. 
 She hurried out to beg my father to come in, but he 
 was creeping from corner to corner and from tree to 
 tree, with the gun held before him, cocked and ready 
 for that deadly aim for which he was so well known. 
 
 After going as far as the smoke-house and waiting 
 there some time, he returned ; he thought the sounds 
 must have been due to some prowling animal. He 
 was about to give up further search when the moaning 
 was again heard, out a little beyond the trees, and 
 then, as my mother stood trembling at the door, a 
 voice shouted : 
 
 " Don' shoot, massa ; don' shoot ! fer de Lawd's sake 
 don' ye shoot I " 
 
A NIGHT OF MYSTERl 103 
 
 My father went straight towards the voice. 
 
 " We done lost, massa," someone shouted as soon as 
 he reached the open ; " we is lookin' fer massa Gest's 
 place." 
 
 " Come in, come in." 
 
 My father came back into the kitchen with two 
 negro fugitives. 
 
 " Where have you been ? " 
 
 " Mass' Snedeker done drap us ober dere," said one 
 of the negroes, pointing west. 
 
 " He was running you off ? " 
 
 " YeSj massa." 
 
 " And finding he was chased, let you down, and so 
 you got lost?" 
 
 *' Yes, massa." 
 
 Just then a loud knocking at the front door came 
 with terrible suddenness, for during the talk and 
 confusion no one had heard any noise in the road. 
 
 My father took his gun, and standing at one side 
 of the door asked who was there. 
 
 "Isaac Snedeker," answered a familiar voice. 
 
 Open went the door and in rushed Ike Snedeker, 
 one of the most intrepid souls that ever risked death 
 for the sake of conscience. 
 
 A man stood before us who had never known fear. 
 One glance at this face would be enough to make an 
 enemy stop and think twice before coming to close 
 quarters with such a being. He was courage incar- 
 nate, with the shaggy head of a lion, the sharp, 
 invincible eye of an eagle, the frame of an athlete, 
 the earnestness of a convinced reformer. His hair 
 stood out thick and bushy, and his bearded face, with 
 the upper lip clean-shaven, gave to the whole 
 
104 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 countenance a massive, formidable look that inspired 
 every fugitive with confidence and struck fear into 
 the hearts of his secret foes. 
 
 "I've lost two runaways," he said, as he walked 
 through to the kitchen ; " had to let them out of the 
 wagon over there near the maple grove — we were 
 foUowed." 
 
 " I think they are here," said my father, " and I 
 came near shooting one of them by mistake." 
 
 '' I directed them to come this way as near as I 
 could, hoping they would strike through the praiiie 
 at this place." 
 
 My mother was now bringing the fugitives some- 
 thing to eat when Isaac Snedeker said peremptorily : 
 
 '' Come along, it's now or never. We've got to get 
 to Brother Gest's with that load before midnight. 
 You see, I've had to gather 'em up here and there in 
 different places, and I have in the wagon out there 
 two lots — one sent over by Ebenezer Carter and the 
 other by Brother Wolcott. If we get caught it'll 
 be the first time ; but they'd get a haul that would 
 amount to something — I've got fourteen altogether." 
 
 The two fugitives left without having time to drink 
 a cup of coffee, and we all went to the road to see them 
 off. The wagon was full of frightened, trembling 
 runaways : negroes, mulattoes, octoroons. Not a 
 moment was lost. Isaac Snedeker had only to speak 
 to his horses — a fine, powerful team — to send them 
 going at a great speed down the road towards the 
 appointed meeting-place at Elihu Gest's. 
 
 We went back into the house, where my mother 
 sank exhausted into a rocking-chair. 
 
 But sbe had still another ordeal to go through. 
 
A NIGHT OP MYSTERY 105 
 
 Prayers had been said, and we were all about to retire 
 for the night, when the noise of galloping horses and 
 men talking could be heard in the road. One moment 
 of suspense followed another. Footsteps were heard 
 near the kitchen door, then there came a light and 
 somewhat timid rapping as if the persons outside were 
 not certain about this being the right place. My father 
 opened, this time without asking who was there. Two 
 disreputable-looking men stood before him, one of 
 them scowling at us through the door like some 
 ferocious animal. They carried pistols and dirks. 
 Their eyes were shaded by slouched hats that partly 
 concealed the upper part of their faces, so that, for all 
 we knew, they might have been neighbours living at 
 no great distance from the Log-House. 
 
 ''Hev ye seen any runaways hangin' round 
 hyar ? " asked the elder man, looking up from 
 under his hat, and with an expression that told of a 
 fearful admixture of malicious cunning and moral 
 cowardice. 
 
 " I have," answered my father. " Who delegated you 
 to look for them ? " 
 
 The fellow hesitated. 
 
 Then he stammered : 
 
 " Be you a fire-eatin' Abolitionist ? " 
 
 " I have voted for Abraham Lincoln once, if that is 
 what you mean by being an Abolitionist." 
 
 " Ye ain't been long in this country," observed the 
 younger man. 
 
 " Long enough to become an American citizen, and 
 vote." 
 
 This surprised them. They looked confused, but 
 they braced themselves for a final effort. 
 
106 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 " We're arter them runaways, 'en we don't calc'late 
 te leave hyar without takin' 'em along." 
 
 "They went from here some time ago, so you'll 
 have to look elsewhere if you want to find them." 
 
 " Let's go over to the barn," said the elder of the 
 two. 
 
 They started for the barn, but stopped just beyond 
 the big locust tree, and I heard the words : 
 
 " Say, Jake, I don't like the look o' that old 
 Britisher." 
 
 " ISTo more do I." 
 
 " He'U shoot the fust thing we know. He's got 
 sunthin' mighty juberous in thet eye o' his'n." 
 
 Not another word was said. They wheeled about, 
 made for the road, mounted their horses, and were off. 
 
 They had been cowed and disarmed by my father's 
 coohiess, his independence, by his towering height, 
 and a scorn that was withering to the two slave-hunting 
 villains. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 SOWING AND REAPING 
 
 The wide strip of prairie to the west of the Log- 
 House was now ready for planting, but not without 
 immense labour. A huge plough which descended into 
 the primitive soil was drawn by four or five pairs of 
 stout oxen, di'iven and directed by a man with a whip 
 as long as the team itself. My father held the plough, 
 and frequently stood on it in order to drive it deep 
 enough to cut through the roots that were often 
 formidable in their thickness. 
 
 Oh, the delightful souvenirs of that ploughing and 
 planting ! The odour of the fresh, rich soil, never 
 broken till now, the turning up of snakes, insects, and 
 queer stones, with here and there the rough flint- 
 head of an Indian arrow, the flocks of red-winged black- 
 birds settling down to feast in the wavy sods, the 
 excitement which had in it no reaction — how is it 
 possible that such things pass as in dreams ? 
 
 The whole day I followed the oxen, never growing 
 weary of the wonders of Nature, and when this rough 
 piece of land had been ploughed, harrowed, and duly 
 prepared for the first crop of Indian corn (maize), then 
 came, what was to me, the climax of the whole pro- 
 ceedings, the actual sowing of the seed. It was like 
 some rare holiday, a festival, a celebration. All Nature 
 seemed to partake of the joy ; a new world of marvels 
 seemed to be on the eve of consummation. The weather 
 
108 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 was perfect, and as we three — my father, one of my 
 sisters, and myself — went forth with a sack of seed, 
 we dropped the large golden grains into the proper 
 places all along through the soft, dark loam, closing up 
 each hole, keeping up a ceaseless clatter, mainly, I 
 think, about the pure delights of the work we were 
 doing. 
 
 Perhaps never since have I felt the same kind of 
 thrill. There are days that shine out like great white 
 jewels in the crown of years. 
 
 After the planting there was little to be done except 
 watching and waiting. We watched the sprouting of 
 the corn till it grew through the first period. Its 
 second period was one of flowing, silky tassels, clear 
 and pure, with a silvery sheen, the whole field decked 
 in opulent hangings that waved in the wind and 
 sparkled in the sun, the stalks rising in places to a 
 height of ten feet or more. The third period came 
 about August, when the ripening began. It was 
 slow, the stalks turning to a light, faded gold, the big 
 ears hanging in heavy clusters and in countless num- 
 bers, one rivalling another in length and size. And 
 the field now afforded another pleasure — that of 
 getting lost in its mysterious depths. By day it was 
 a happy feeding-ground for birds, and by night a 
 hiding-place for wild animals. 
 
 Then came two later stages — the cutting and stack- 
 ing. The cutting was rough work. It was done by 
 hired hands ; and when the corn was stacked the 
 field assumed another air, and the face of Nature there- 
 abouts was changed beyond recognition. The stacks 
 resembled innumerable huts or wigwams, and this 
 was not without a charm of its own, for it made the 
 
SOWING AND REAPING 109 
 
 surroundings less lonoly-looking ; but when the ears 
 of corn were taken from the stalks and the field 
 stripped bare the view was one of vacant desolation, 
 without a symbol of saving grace — naked, barren of 
 romance or joy, a thing plucked and polluted by the 
 ruthless hand of necessity. 
 
 Then came one of the last stages in the progress of 
 the corn towards the bread-pan of the household. The 
 big, stout ears had to be stripped of the thick outer 
 envelope, and this was called a " corn-husking." It 
 was done by all hands, great and small ; the neigh- 
 bours were invited, the company assembling in the 
 evening, mostly young people ; a husking-glove was 
 worn on one hand, and, with a small, knife-shaped 
 implement, the shuck was stripped off and the beautiful 
 gold-red grain was laid bare. This was a time of 
 merry-making, love-making, and gaiety. In the 
 earlier days it was a time of dancing and heavy drink- 
 ing, but here at the Log-House the evening passed in 
 sober enjoyment, as became the rigid tenets of the 
 master and mistress, almost Calvinistic in their 
 religious views; and so nothing stronger than coffee 
 was drunk at the merry supper which followed. 
 
 Six months had passed since the prairie soil was 
 broken for the corn, and now we should see it no 
 more till it came into the house in the form of golden 
 meal, all ready to be prepared for the bread-pan, 
 baked in the oven, and set steaming hot on the table 
 for breakfast or supper, about an inch and a half 
 thick, as yellow as rich gold, the top baked to a brown 
 crust, the whole cut into good sized squares in the 
 pan. We cut the pieces through the middle and 
 spread them with fresh home-made butter ; and this, 
 
110 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 with home-cured bacon, and eggs laid in the sweet- 
 smelling hay of the old barn, by hens fattened on 
 corn, surpassed any dish I have ever eaten, in the 
 palaces of kings, in the mansions of. millionaires, or 
 any of the great restaurants of Paris or London. 
 How many times, when dining with the great ones of 
 the world, undeceived by the illusions of sight, taste, 
 and smell, my mind has wandered back to the delicious 
 breakfasts and suppers at the Log-House, certain that 
 nothing could rival hot corn-bread properly made. 
 
 In many of the principal States corn is the staff of 
 life. It is given to pigs, cattle, turkeys, and chickens. 
 It fed the negroes as slaves, the whites when flour was 
 a thing unattainable, gave Abraham Lincoln his robust 
 frame, developed the physical frame of most of the 
 famous men of the South and West of early days, and 
 made victory over malaria and adverse conditions pos- 
 sible. Neurasthenia was unheard of till the people 
 began to eat bread made from wheat. The eating of 
 hot white biscuits (muffins) for breakfast and supper 
 developed America's national disease — dyspepsia. 
 
 Up to the time of the great Civil War, the general 
 type of the South and West was characterised by height, 
 muscular litheness, immense powers of resistance, 
 sound digestion. The fashions in eating kept pace 
 with fashions in dress. Previous to 1820 the dress 
 was mainly of buck-skin, cap of fur, such as the 
 raccoon, and moccasins on the feet. Then came the 
 period of jean and linsey-woolsey, dyed blue or 
 copperas-coloured ; then what I may call the calico 
 period, when young women were considered to be 
 beautifully dressed in plain dotted or striped coloured 
 calico patterns, with sun-bonnets to match. This 
 
SOWING AND REAPING 111 
 
 was followed by a step nearer the city fashions, and 
 ginghams and delaines were introduced here and 
 there ; but the silk and lace period did not dawn on 
 the smaller towns of the West till the war suddenly 
 scattered bank-notes broadcast through the land and 
 brought in its train tumult, movement, money, and 
 the latest fashions. 
 
 In the autumn there were other gatherings, such 
 as "apple parings," and " quiltings," and the inevit- 
 able country fair which everyone attended. The 
 autumn was the most sociable time of the whole year, 
 and for several weeks there would be plenty to do and 
 plenty to talk about. The quilting brought together 
 the most instructive and entertaining visitors. It was 
 a woman's affaii-, but the husbands usually came for 
 supper at six, or later, in the evening, and so there 
 was talk on every subject of any local interest, from 
 politics to mince pies. 
 
 After one or two cups of tea Mrs. Busby would 
 talk by the hour, and a word, a hint would call forth 
 the description of an event or a new version of some 
 disputed story. 
 
 " Law me ! How this section hez settled up sence 
 we've been here ! When we fust come there warn't 
 no stores within a ten mile ride. It wus rough, and 
 in some places a mite dangerous, especially over in 
 what they called the ' chivaree ' district. There was 
 a band that chivareed every couple that got merried 
 fer miles around ; en speakin' o' chivarees reminds 
 me o' the time when ole man Snyder merried a 
 yaller-haired gal from down Jersey ville way. They 
 hedn't more'n got home when 'long come the wust 
 crowd ye could pick up in the hull country, headed 
 
112 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 by Bub Hawkins en Jack Haywood. They brought 
 ole tin pans, kittles, whistles, cow-bells, horns en 
 everything they could make a howlin' noise with, en 
 set up a kinder war-dance round the cabin. Ole man 
 Snyder was fer shootin', bein' tetchy en not given to 
 lettin' words melt in his mouth, but his bride got 
 riled en took a raw hide en made fer the door, en out 
 she went into the crowd. 
 
 " ' Who's the ringleader here '? ' she says. ' Who's 
 the ringleader 1 I want to know ; en if ye don't 
 tell me I'll cow-hide ye all, en won't be long 
 about it.' 
 
 " With that Bub Hawkins started snickerin' en 
 steppin' roun' like a turkey on a hot gridiron, half 
 ashamed like en not knowin' jes' what te do or te 
 say, en Sal Snyder standin' there with her yaller 
 hair all hangin' loose en her eyes a snappin' like a 
 wild cat. 
 
 "'Ain't ye goin' to tell me?' she shouted; but 
 there warn't a man there that could stand en look 
 right in them eyes, 
 
 " ' Looky here, Bub Hawkins,' she says, ' you've 
 come te chivaree me en my ole man, but I'm a-goin' 
 te give ye somethin' te make ye shiver en keep it up 
 all night,' en with that she lit in en let him have 
 it, head en face, neck en body, en when he broke en 
 ran she wus after him, lettin' him have it from 
 behind ; en ye better b'lieve she hed sinews in her 
 arms like the strong man in th' Good Book ; en every 
 time Bub Hawkins jumped a log she brought down 
 her cow-hide from behind with a reg'lar war-whoop that 
 made the woods ring. When she had chased the ring- 
 leader she come back te tackle the others, but they 
 
SOWING AND REAPING 113 
 
 had all vamosed. They do claim that Sal Snyder 
 plumb broke up that gang. 
 
 " They did need religion," she went on, '' en it was 
 time Pete Cartwright come along en got Jack Hay- 
 wood side-tracked from his good-fer-nothin' ways. 
 Ye see it wus like this : Jack Haywood's wife died 
 en left him with six young uns, en he lowed his home 
 wns like a hive without a queen bee. Anyhow, that's 
 what he told widder Brown when he merried her. 
 Things went long pnrty smooth fer some time, en it 
 looked like he wus well fixed en settled ; but one day 
 she up en said : — 
 
 " * Looky here. Jack Haywood, I low yer hive's all 
 right, en it sets close te a clover patch, but whar's the 
 honey ? I ain't never see ye bring home nothin' but 
 what sticks te yer feet, en thar ain't no mistake 'bout 
 it, thar's plenty comb, fer it's comb, comb all day 
 long try in' te get the hay -seeds out o' yer six sassy 
 tow-heads. Now I tell ye what it is,' she says, 
 turnin' from her dough en p'intin' the roUin'-pin 
 straight at him, ' you've got the hive en you've got a 
 bee te boss it, but what hez she got '{ Why, she's got 
 six young drones, not includin' two yaller dogs en 
 yerself, en if I had wings, ez I hed orter hev, I'd 
 take a bee-line fer a hive that's got some vittles in it.' 
 
 '' When Uriah asked him how he wus gettin' on 
 with his queen bee, he said : 
 
 " ' She's workin' the comb all right, but she stings 
 with her tongue wus'n any hornet I ever bumped 
 
 agin.' 
 
 ''His fust wife druv him te drinkin' en this one 
 druv him te religion. He got converted, but fust off 
 she wus dead set agin preachers, en scuffled up agin 
 
 V.8. I 
 
114 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 preachin' en prayin' in dead earnest till Haywood was 
 most druv crazy. When Pete Cartwright come long 
 one day he says she stormed en raved en used cuss 
 words, en when he said he wus goin' te pray right in 
 the cabin she shook her fist in his face en 'lowed she 
 wns one half alligator en t'other half snappin' turtle, 
 en dared him te put her out, ez he said he would if 
 she didn't behave ; she said it 'ud take a better man 
 than he wus te do it. 
 
 " While he wus prayin' she got awful mad. She 
 called him all the names she could think of, en threw 
 the cat at his head, en then Pete Cartwright up en 
 took hold of her arm en swung her clean te the door, 
 en out she went. He slammed the door in her face, en 
 of all the rippin' en roarin' ye ever heerd that wus the 
 wust. 
 
 "He barred the door agin her and went right on 
 with his prayin' ; but land ! with a she-devil scratchin' 
 te get in a man ud hev te be a reg'lar angel with 
 wings not te be riled en flustered in his pleadin's ; so 
 he jes' turned the table on her, stopped prayin' en 
 begin to sing ez loud ez ever he could beller — en ye 
 better b'lieve he could shout when he got fixed fer it, 
 en the louder she screamed en roared outside, the 
 louder he sung inside, en they kept it up till she 
 begin te pant fer breath. He kept right on till she 
 knocked on the door en hollered out : 
 
 " ' Mr. Cartwright, do please let me in ! ' 
 
 " ' Well,' he said, 'I'll let ye come in if ye' 11 
 promise te behave yerself.' 
 
 She said she would ; so he opened the door en led 
 her te a seat near the fire-place, en he says he never 
 see a woman so pale en tremblin'. 
 
SOWING AND REAPING 115 
 
 *' ' I've been a big fool,' she says. 
 
 " ' I 'lowye hev,'says Pete Cartwright, ' en ye'llhev 
 te repent fer all yer sins or ye'll go te perdition.' 
 
 " She hung her head en plumb give up fer shame. 
 The poor little children were all huddled under the bed, 
 en he called 'em out en told 'cm their mother wouldn't 
 hurt 'em now, en with that he started prayin' ag'in 
 with Haywood, en in six months she was converted 
 en the folks in that cabin made real happy." 
 
 In the evenintr the riding of the young ladies for 
 prizes at the county fair was discussed. All had 
 something to say concerning this momentous 
 incident. 
 
 " I've been attendin' kyounty fairs 'most all my 
 life," said one, " en it did take the rag oflf the bush te 
 see the way the cuttin's up o' thet ole chestnut sp'iled 
 the ridiu' o' them po' gals." 
 
 "What I want te know is who put Almedy Sin- 
 clair te ride on sech a critter," said another. 
 
 "Well," said Mrs. Busby, "ye don't reckon 
 Almedy Sinclair's green enough te pick out sech a 
 rib-breaker te ride on all by herself, do ye ? — en she 
 one of the best j edges o' hoss-flesh in this hull district. 
 Why, that gal thinks nothin' o' ridin' bare-back en 
 breakin' the wust mustang ye kin bring her. I've see 
 her do it. She sets a-hossback ez easy ez ye're settin' 
 in that rockin'-cheer. No, sir-ree, ye better look fer 
 someone with more green in their eye before ye ask 
 me te b'lieve she went roamin' roun' the country jes' 
 te choose sech a rip-tearin' bucker fer a saddle-hoss, 
 en she settin' her cap fer fust prize ! Almedy Sin- 
 clair ain't that kind. Ye see," she continued, warming 
 to the subject, " the man that owned that chestnut fust 
 
 I 2 
 
116 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 off went te the Mexican war en rid him in the battle 
 o' Bueny Visty, en there's where a bullet nipped the 
 top off one o' his marrer-bones, a leetle behind the 
 saddle, en that wus the beginnin' o' the kickin' en the 
 buckin' ; but some say after the wowned got healed 
 he kept the buckin' up jest fer ole time's sake. When 
 his owner come back from the war he sold him fer a 
 good draw-hoss, b'lievin' him te be right safe te pull 
 a wagon, en when the man that bought him was 
 fordin' a creek in flood-time the hoss kicked every- 
 thing te pieces right in the middle o' the creek. His 
 next owner was a Baptist preacher who took te dram 
 drinkin' te drown his sorrer at bein' so tuk in by a 
 sleek, fat hoss en a professin' Christian. The fac' is, 
 the wowned in his back got healed quick enough, en 
 it never showed no signs on th' outside, but the bone 
 wus allers tender, en when the saddle wus put a leetle 
 too fur back, er when it happened te be a leetle too 
 long, there was sure to be trouble ; en that double- 
 dealin' rascal that owns him now knows it, en he fixed te 
 hev Almedy lose en his own gal win, fer he knew if 
 Almedy hed a good hoss she'd surely carry off the 
 prize. Ye see, when a body's used te ridin' bosses 
 that chaw the bit en prance te one side en rear on 
 their hind legs, it looks like hoss en gal's both 
 cunnin' 'nough te show off their good p'ints all te 
 oncet, en Almedy Sinclair kinder looked fer sum'thin' 
 like that in the critter she was ridin'. She expected 
 te be h'isted a couple o' times, fer a man hollered out 
 to her, ' Sit ez tight ez ye kin ! ' en she knowed what 
 that meant; but it didn't mean what she thought. 
 Th' ole chestnut warn't no ways stiff in the hind legs 
 when he started ; but that ain't allers a good sign 
 
SOWING AND REAPING 117 
 
 nuther. It allers takes time te git right down te the 
 weak spot of any beast, but in this here case it looked 
 like the time wus fore- ordained, ez the preachers say, 
 right down te the minnit, fer jest ez th' ole hoss come 
 along in front o' the j edges stand the saddle worked 
 back till it come agin the tender marrer-bone, en he 
 stopped like he'd been struck with a bullet. Right 
 then I hear a man say, ' Watch out ! ' en skasely hed 
 he spoke when the critter up en give his tail en hind 
 legs sech a twist that it looked like Almedy 'd surely 
 land on the critter's neck. It warn't expected ; the 
 hoss riz at the wrong end. There he stood, stock still, 
 leavin' Almedy Sinclair settin' like a sack o' seed 
 pertaters while t'other gal rid by on her prancin' roan 
 ez big ez life en twicet ez sassy. Pore Almedy sot till 
 her hoss riz en shuk his heels ag'in, en ye kin b'lieve 
 she made a break from that saddle ez mad ez ever ye 
 see a gal in all yer born days." 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE FLIGHT 
 
 The Indian summer had come, the season of seasons, 
 with its golden memories, its diaphanous skies, its 
 dream-like afternoons, its gossamer veils spread over 
 the shimmering horizon, transforming by its own 
 transcendent magic the whole earth and atmosphere. 
 
 Smoke rose from wooded places in long, thin 
 columns of hazy blue, and once in a while a whiff of 
 burning grass and leaves filled the magnetic air with 
 fragrant odour. The settlers ceased to fret and 
 worry ; there was neither reaping nor repining. 
 
 The sun was setting when I arrived at the Load- 
 Eearer's home, two days after Isaac Snedeker's visit 
 to the Log-House. I had brought more provisions for 
 the fugitives. 
 
 ''Dear me I but yer ma is good te send all these 
 vittles fer the runaways," exclaimed Mrs. Gest as I 
 emptied my saddle-bags on the kitchen table. 
 
 As I was going to stay there till morning we sat 
 about here and there waiting for the hours to pass 
 and the coming of Isaac Snedeker, who was to take 
 the fugitives to the next station that night. We 
 expected his arrival some time between ten and eleven 
 o'clock. 
 
 How calm and peaceful was the evening ! 
 
 Now and then a gentle current of wind stirred the 
 branches, and the leaves fell in flaky showers like 
 
THE FLIGHT 119 
 
 snow on ground already strewn with the dead foliage 
 of autumn. 
 
 Far away, the tinkling of bells told of cattle peace- 
 fully grazing, and the prairie, immense and tranquil 
 as a golden sea, inspii-ed a feeling as of ages and ages 
 of repose. 
 
 In the west a bank of filmy clouds edged with 
 silver floated against a sky of glassy green which 
 gradually melted into serried ranks of flaming amber, 
 and the sere, crisp leaves of the beech were interlaced 
 with the red and purple of oak and maple, while the 
 trees by the creek glistened and sparkled in the genial 
 rays of the setting sun. 
 
 And there was something in the early hours of the 
 evening that throbbed in ceaseless unison with the 
 constellations overhead. After darkness closed in all 
 the witchery of Nature seemed at work in earth and 
 sky. Above the tree-tops a host of twinkling stars 
 looked down on the anxious watchers and refugees. 
 Presently a thin mist descended about us through 
 which the starry vault and dark masses of trees could 
 be discerned, with tracings of dim, fantastic forms in 
 the scattered underbush. 
 
 The slanting rays of the rising moon came reaching 
 in long gleams across the roof of the little frame 
 house, while its weird shafts shot through the narrow 
 interspaces of wood and thicket, and gleamed in small 
 round patches on the green moss underneath. The 
 scarlet vines all around on the boughs were tipped 
 with a soft, glistening pallor that fell as from some 
 ghostly lantern from a distant world, while just above 
 the horizon, poised like an aerial plume in the deep 
 indigo blue, the vanishing comet waned amidst a 
 
120 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 wilderness of glittering lights under a shimmering 
 crown of stars. 
 
 During a moment of profound quiet, when it seemed 
 as if all Nature had sunk to rest, a wolf beyond the 
 creek began a series of long-drawn-out howls. The 
 woods began to vibrate with low, clamorous calls. 
 The howling drew nearer; one of the wolf-hounds 
 answered back in pitiful cries, then another and 
 another. Everywhere call answered call. A rushing 
 sound filled the space above us where vast flocks of 
 wildfowl cut the air with the swish and rustle of a 
 thousand wings. The honking came and went as 
 flock after flock passed over us in whizzing waves. 
 The whole world was stirring. Earth sent up a 
 chorus of lamentations that mingled with the voices 
 above. The fugitives huddled together in the cave in 
 expectation of some unimagined calamity, and at last, 
 unable to withstand the feeling of terror, they began 
 to creep up towards the house. 
 
 The Load-Bearer, who had gone into the kitchen, 
 fell on his knees, with the Bible open before him on 
 the chair, while his wife sat just inside, with her 
 hands tightly clasped, peering intently through the 
 open door across the clear patches of moonlight. 
 Soon he rose and hurriedly walked out. 
 " Whar be ye goin' ? " stammered his wife, noticing 
 his dazed look. 
 
 He walked as one in a dream, while Cornelia 
 followed. 
 
 " Elihu, whar be ye goin' ? " 
 
 There was a clinking of the chains at the kennels, 
 and a cry from the wolf-hounds told us they were 
 free. They sped round and round the house in a 
 
THE FLIGHT 121 
 
 whirl of excitement, then into the woods and back 
 again to the house, giving the last shudder to the 
 climax of confusion before they made off towards the 
 main road leading south-west. 
 
 Then, as by a wave of some invisible wand, the 
 tumult ceased. The woods and the house lay plunged 
 in an all-pervading stillness. The country round 
 about seemed suddenly dipped in a gulf of silence. 
 
 The Load-Bearer came back to the kitchen and 
 again fell on his knees. After some moments he 
 began to read aloud : 
 
 " ' Alas, for that day is great, so that none is like 
 it ; it is even the time of Jacob's trouble ; but he 
 shaU be saved out of it.' " 
 
 " Whar be they ? " mused Cornelia, not listening 
 to her husband. " It's gettin' late . . . Brother 
 Snedeker said he'd be here at ten o'clock." 
 
 Her hair had fallen down on one side of her face ; 
 she looked sad and very troubled. She was over- 
 burdened with the loads of others, with loads which 
 she had not sought, which life and death had heaped 
 together in one short, swift period of time, and she 
 felt crushed under their weight. But Elihu Gest, 
 absorbed in prayer, heard nothing, saw nothing, 
 thought of nothing but the Eternal. 
 
 Now he read aloud from Isaiah : 
 
 " ' Awake, awake, Jerusalem, which hast drunk 
 of the hand of the Lord the cup of His fuiy ; thou 
 hast drunken the dregs of the cup of trembling and 
 wrung them out." 
 
 He remained silent for a moment, and when he 
 continued it was with a voice full of prophetic faith : 
 
 " ' Thus saith the Lord thy God that pleadeth the 
 
122 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 cause of His people, behold I have taken out of thine 
 hand the cup of trembling, even the dregs of the cup 
 of My fury ; thou shalt no more drink it again.' " 
 
 The last words had sunk deep into Cornelia's soul. 
 She seemed to have caught all the mystical power of 
 those seven magical words : '' Thou shalt no more 
 drink it again." Her eyes grew brighter, her face was 
 lit by a placid smile, all the old religious faith came 
 rushing back. 
 
 A faint breeze brought with it an aroma of dried 
 leaves and withering grasses. As the moon rose higher 
 in the heavens the night grew brighter. ITot far from 
 the door a group of fugitives stood gazing intently at 
 Cornelia Gest, the pallid faces of the octoroons forming 
 a sort of spectral frame for the black faces in the 
 centre. Here and there, around the house, murmurs 
 and half- suppressed groans and supplications arose, for 
 the runaways had brought to the Load-Bearer's home 
 a new world, with new and unheard-of influences. 
 There were fugitives from nearly every slave State 
 bordering the Mississippi; they brought with them 
 their own peculiar beliefs, their own interpretations of 
 certain signs and sounds of the night. All had been 
 awed by the appearance of the comet, but now a 
 terrible fear possessed them. For each one every sound 
 came as a special menace, every object had a special 
 symbol. 
 
 The Load-Bearer rose from his knees, and as he 
 stepped to the door one of the wolf-hounds, covered 
 with blood-stains, was there to greet him. The others 
 were not far off, and all had evidently done their work. 
 
 "Somethin' hez happened down on the road," said 
 Cornelia. 
 
THE FLIGHT 123 
 
 " They hev nipped some evil in the bud," returned 
 Elihu. 
 
 But Cornelia peered without ceasing in one direction, 
 anxiously awaiting the arrival of Isaac Snedeker. 
 
 " Thar's someone a-comin' now," remarked the 
 Load-Bearer. 
 
 But we still waited, gazing into the distance. The 
 last hour had seemed endless. We walked down 
 towards the creek to pass away the time, then returned 
 and stood in the moonlight. Elihu Gest was trying to 
 make out what the object was that we now saw 
 approaching from the east. It came looming up in the 
 thin mist that hung over the road, growing bigger as 
 it drew nearer ; and the fugitives, seeing it approach, 
 sought refuge in the darkness behind the house, some 
 running as far as the creek. 
 
 Not one was visible ; not a murmur was to be heard. 
 A ghostly silence greeted Azariah James, the preacher, 
 as he came ambling up on a horse that seemed to glide 
 over the surface of the ground. There he sat for some 
 moments, speechless, and at first I did not recognise 
 him, clad as he was in hunting costume, with a fringe 
 about the cape, a coon-skin cap on his head, a rifle slung 
 over his shoulders, and a pistol and dirk before him. 
 
 But the man himself had not changed. It w^as the 
 same face, naively absent-minded and wonderingly 
 mute, that I had seen at the meeting-house — the man 
 who began his sermon by a series of blunders and then 
 glided along by some miraculous means to an unex- 
 pected and memorable triumph. Now, as then, he 
 looked as if he were floating along with the tide and 
 the hour, ready for the unforeseen without expecting 
 it, armed for trouble without fearing it. 
 
124 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 We stood looking at the preacher and he at us, but 
 no one spoke. 
 
 What an enigmatical group we must have been to 
 the peeping fugitives a little distance away ! There 
 sat Azariah James, the preacher, twin brother in spirit 
 to Elihu Gest, the Load-Bearer ; yet what a contrast 
 they presented ! The preacher appeared double his 
 natui'al size, clothed in a hunter's garb, awaiting some 
 mysterious command ; and the Load-Bearer, thinner, 
 smaller, almost wizened, seemed to be awaiting some 
 word or sign on the part of the preacher. 
 
 And a sign did come ; but not from Azariah James. 
 Down to the south, through the thick groves of beech, 
 a yellow light rose and fell and rose again in slow 
 waving flashes over the horizon, its glow reaching 
 above the wooded cover, and even beyond the belted 
 line of timber to the east. 
 
 "Whatkinthetbe?" 
 
 It was Cornelia who spoke, for the two men were 
 still rapt in a kind of mystical quandary. 
 
 " Thar's sunthin' goin' on down thar er my name 
 ain't Elihu Gest, en the Lord ain't sent ye, Azariah," 
 remarked the Load-Bearer. 
 
 "I 'low ye're right," replied the preacher; "the 
 prairie's a-burnin' cl'ar from a mile bey on' Lem 
 Stephens's, plumb te the bend in the creek." 
 
 "The prairie on fire, en at this time o' night!" 
 exclaimed Cornelia ; " what kin it mean ? " 
 
 "Why, it means that the Almighty air with we 
 uns, en agin Lem Stephens en the slave- catchers." 
 
 " Air it runnin' him clost ? " 
 
 " Ez fer ez I kin jedge it must be closin' in on him 
 about now," responded the preacher, with surprising 
 
THE FLIGHT 125 
 
 nonchalance. ''A passel o' good-fer-nothin's banded 
 tharselves together te come over en take off the run- 
 aways en git the rewards. They 'lowed te be hyar by 
 this time so ez te head off Brother Snedeker. I come 
 right by Lem Stephens's en see 'em let the blood- 
 hounds loose, en jest ez the hounds lit out over this 
 way the prairie began te blaze, so all hands stayed 
 right thar te watch the place." 
 
 The Load-Bearer began to shake off his seeming 
 lethargy. 
 
 '' Whar be the blood-hounds now ? " he asked. 
 
 ''Wharbe they? I reckon they air right whar 
 yer dogs en my pistol left 'em down the road thar." 
 
 " They air dead ! " cried Cornelia. 
 
 " They air dead ! " echoed a mournful voice behind 
 the house. 
 
 The cry was taken up by other fugitives, who 
 imagined Isaac Snedeker and his friends had been 
 assassinated. 
 
 *' Dey's all dead ! Dey done killed 'em off ! " arose 
 on all sides from the dark forms now emerging from 
 their hiding-places. 
 
 An ever-increasing glamour shone through the 
 woods to the south, and the runaways now saw it for 
 the first time. It hushed their cries and murmurs as 
 if a damper had suddenly been placed over their mouths. 
 
 Azariah James got off his horse, tied up, and 
 followed Cornelia Gest into the kitchen. 
 
 " 'Pears like they won't never git here to-night," 
 she sighed. 
 
 " 'Bout how many d'ye expect ? " 
 
 " Brother Snedeker en two er three more ; but he's 
 a-comin' te carry the runaways te the nex' station. 
 
126 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 I don't calc'late he'll stay more'n long 'nough te load 
 up en git away ez quick ez iver he kin." 
 
 There were sounds of horses' hoofs and wagon wheels 
 outside. 
 
 Cornelia Gest went to the door. 
 
 " Thank the Lord ye've got here at last ! " she 
 exclaimed, greeting a slender man with a long, 
 greyish beard, who was helping out an elderly woman 
 clad in deep black. 
 
 "It's Squar Higgins," said Cornelia; "en Sister 
 Higgins hez come along te cher a body by thet beau- 
 tiful smile o' her'n ; Elihu allers says it's like the 
 grace o' God a-smilin' on the hull world when shes 
 aroun'." 
 
 And so it was ; for Martha Higgins was another of 
 those wonderful women whose very presence diffused 
 an influence of peace and harmony. Her faith and 
 confidence in the Divine goodness were incorruptible 
 and never-ending. She brought with her a radiant 
 power that aroused the preacher to thoughts of praise 
 and thanksgiving for all the mercies of the past and 
 present. With her presence, the terrors of the night 
 receded, and the preacher, with his eyes half closed, 
 began to hum a few bars of a favourite hymn. 
 
 Meanwhile the Load-Bearer had quietly slipped 
 away to have a look over the prairie. He had climbed 
 a large withered tree which stood on a knoll, and was 
 watching a thin tongue of fire licking up the grass 
 away towards the bend in the creek not far from Lem 
 Stephens's frame house. From this tree he had often 
 looked out before, but never on such a sight as this. 
 He watched the flames dart up here and there in 
 sudden flashes as they caught the strips of taller 
 
THE FLIGHT 127 
 
 grass in the low soil near the water, dying down 
 where the ground was higher and the grass thinner. 
 He could not at first make out in what direction the 
 flames were moving, nor could he yet tell whether 
 they had reached the frame house. The whole region 
 before him lay circled in a rim of fire. Never had he 
 been in such intimate communion with the mighty 
 forces of the Eternal ; never had he felt the breath of 
 the night come with so much inspiration and judg- 
 ment. It seemed to Elihu Gest that fire had descended 
 from the skies, that a ban had been placed on the 
 movements of evil-doers in that section and for miles 
 around ; and while he pondered and marvelled over 
 the wonders of the night he felt the " Living Presence " 
 throb through his being with a quickening power that 
 lifted him clear above and away from mortal things. 
 He shouted aloud one of his favourite passages from 
 the Old Testament. He was about to descend when a 
 long sheet of flame leaped into the sky. Lem Stephens's 
 house was ablaze : it was burning like a box of 
 tinder. Now the barn caught ; now the brushwood 
 behind the house was blazing. The border of the 
 creek was a mass of flame. It looked as if a fiery 
 serpent were moving in a zigzag along its border, 
 rising and falling on great wings of fire, then dis- 
 appearing, to rise again in another place. 
 
 A current of wind was created by the heat, and 
 flames darted from the other side of the water. 
 
 When he returned, Elihu Gest found Isaac Snede- 
 ker — who had brought several more refugees with him 
 — the two Higgins', Azariah James, and Cornelia, all 
 sitting in a semi-circle in the kitchen, and after 
 greeting Mr. Snedeker he took a seat at one end. 
 
128 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 There followed a period of deep, devotional quietude 
 in which each one sat as if alone. There was the 
 grey-bearded Squire Higgins, with his big brows and 
 kindly face ; there was Cornelia Gest, slender, frail 
 and shrunken, in her seat ; there was Azariah James, 
 whose broodings defied all divination ; there was 
 Isaac Snedeker, stern and restless as an eagle about 
 to take wing ; and Martha Higgins, whose high, 
 massive forehead and arching nose contrasted strangely 
 with the bountiful kindness of her dreamy eyes, while 
 her smile expressed a faith that was infinite and 
 undying. 
 
 At one end sat Elihu Gest, obscure carrier of other 
 people's loads, impulsive and enigmatical seer, last in 
 the long procession of the ante-bellum prophets of old 
 Illinois. 
 
 A shout was heard, and Elihu looked at Martha 
 Higgins as he said : — 
 
 " They ain't calc'lated te understand what it air 
 thet's workin' out te save them." 
 
 " Martha had a presentiment before we came," 
 observed Squire Higgins. " I have never known her 
 to be wrong." 
 
 "Who lit thet fire '? " queried Cornelia Gest. 
 " 'Twarn't you. Brother Snedeker ? " 
 
 " That's what I've been wanting to know : I came 
 near being caught in it, and now I'll have to wait here 
 till I see how far it's going to spread." 
 
 " It hez plumb licked up Lem Stephens's house," 
 said the Load-Bearer. "I see it from the big tree." 
 
 " I want te know ! " exclaimed Cornelia. 
 
 " Thar ain't nothin' left by this time. If Lem 
 Stephens en the slave-hunters ain't hidin' in the water 
 
THE FLIGHT 129 
 
 they air burnt up. Thar's a mighty power movin' 
 over the yearth ; I ain't see a night sech ez this sence 
 the comet fust appeared." 
 
 Isaac Snedeker went out with Squii-e Higgins to 
 survey the land. A wall of fire rose above the creek, 
 to the south ; an immense, palpitating glow lit the 
 sky — a glow that flashed like sheet-lightning along 
 the course of the creek, for a wind had risen which 
 forced the flames straight towards the Load-Bearer's 
 home. There was a rushing sound where it began to 
 skim the upper branches ; then a current of warm air 
 struck through the open space leading from the creek 
 to the house. The woods rang with the screaming of 
 birds ; the howling of a wolf again haunted the lonely 
 plains to the north, and a little later an awful roar 
 told that the fire had reached the tall, thick grass and 
 brushwood that lined the water's edge not more than a 
 quarter of a mile from the house. 
 
 " De comet done struck de yearth ! De world's 
 burnin' up ! " 
 
 The runaways no longer thought of slave-hunters 
 and a return to bondage. For them all was at an 
 end ; and from a sort of dumb despair there issued 
 forth groans and exclamations of, " Mercy, Lord ! 
 mercy, mercy ! " 
 
 Yet two or three were on the point of escaping to 
 the woods. 
 
 Isaac Snedeker, seeing the danger, called out : 
 
 '* All who run away will be caught ! " 
 
 Squire Higgins hardly knew what to do. The 
 night seemed like day. The roar of the fire could be 
 heard, ever a little nearer, ever more ominous and 
 awful. 
 
 v.s. K 
 
130 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 " If we have to quit," he said at last, "there's not a 
 minute to lose ! " 
 
 He was thinking of the safety of the women. 
 
 Even the invincible Isaac Snedeker was shaken by 
 forebodings of evil. But when they returned to the 
 kitchen and beheld the Load-Bearer in the same place, 
 self-poised, self-contained, all doubts departed. 
 
 ^' 'Twixt here and thar, thar's a swamp and a 
 patchin' o' oak thet won't ketch, en the grass air 
 sparse and spindlin', en then comes the big trees. 
 But thar's sunthin' else besides the wind thet's blowin' 
 them flames, Squar Higgins." 
 
 Even as he spoke the light from the fire was 
 gradually descending out of the zenith. Lower and 
 lower it fell. In about ten minutes nothing but a dim 
 outline of glimmering yellow could be discerned far 
 beyond the belt of woods, and once more the moon- 
 light reigned ; the patches of light were brighter, the 
 shadows deeper ; the wings of unrest were folded, and 
 silence returned with a twofold presage. 
 
 "It air about time," said the Load-Bearer, rising 
 and placing his hand on the preacher's shoulder. " It 
 air time te begin," he intimated to Squire Higgins 
 and Isaac Snedeker. 
 
 They all left the kitchen except Cornelia Gest, 
 Martha Higgins, and myself. Cornelia's face assumed 
 a pensive look ; she wiped away a tear, and said in a 
 quavering voice : 
 
 " God be praised ! He allowed her te pass out o' 
 this world in peace. I'm right happy te have ye here. 
 Sister Higgins, en I jes' knowed ye'd come over when 
 Elihu sent ye word." 
 
 " I don't know of anything that could have kept 
 
THE FLIGHT 131 
 
 me from coming, Sister Gest," replied Mrs. Iliggins, 
 " I had a presentiment that she would die right 
 here." 
 
 " We couldn't git her te talk about herself, nur 
 give her name, nur nothin' ; they're all so afeared 
 they'll be sent back te bondage. Thar ain't on'y Mr. 
 Snedeker en Brother James en yerselves ez knows 
 'bout her havin' died here. If thar warn't so many 
 good people aroun' I'd give right up, scein' so many 
 wicked. But Elihu said he war boun' te have prayers 
 en his favourite hymn sung at the funeral." 
 
 Now for the first time I knew that the quadroon had 
 passed away and that this night was appointed for her 
 burial. 
 
 We had not long to wait, for presently Squire 
 Higgins came and announced that all was ready. 
 When we got to the graveside, near the creek, all the 
 fugitives stood around, some of them holding lanterns, 
 the black faces appearing strangely unnatural in the 
 flickering light, the faces of the quadi'oons and 
 octoroons more ghostly. Under the trees, half in the 
 moonlight, half in shadow, it seemed as if a great 
 multitude were crowding up from behind, eager to 
 catch every sound that might pass from anyone's lips. 
 
 A soft breeze moved among the last sere leaves of 
 autumn. Now and then a gentle gust swayed the 
 lower branches to and fro, and an infinitely tender 
 sighing came and went and melted away in the eerie 
 moonUght. 
 
 The preacher took off his tightly-fitting cap and 
 with it his hair stood out in wild rumpled locks. He 
 seemed to loom taller and taller. He looked as if he 
 had forgotten all he had intended to say, and was 
 
 K 2 
 
132 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 standing there helpless and forsaken at the brink of 
 a grave, over the dead he had come to bury. 
 
 " Praise God ! " murmnred the Load-Bearer, who 
 alone of all the persons there seemed to understand. 
 
 Azariah James closed his eyes for one or two 
 seconds ; a slight shiver passed through his frame ; 
 then he opened them wide and searching, and a 
 wondrous light flashed out over the awed and speech- 
 less company. He was no longer an awkward, hesi- 
 tating dreamer, but a lion aroused, a prophet in his 
 own country. His listeners began to move and sway 
 in unison with his immeasurable compassion, and after 
 he had spoken for ten minutes the Load-Bearer offered 
 up a short, fervent prayer. Then, when the last 
 scene was about to begin, the voice of Martha Higgins 
 rang out above the open grave : 
 
 " On Jordan's stormy banks I stand 
 And cast a wistful eye " — 
 
 A loud, rolling wave of song passed in long, reaching 
 echoes through the woods as the twenty-nine persons 
 present sent their voices calling — 
 
 " To Canaan's fair and happy land 
 Where my possessions lie," 
 
 for now every voice was attuned to the old matchless 
 melody of the meeting-house and the camp-ground. 
 
 As the hymn proceeded the sense of time was 
 obliterated. A far-sweeping chorus, tinged here and 
 there with a nameless melancholy, floated upward into 
 the white silence of the night. On and on they sang, 
 and the old hymn rolled out in a miracle of sound, on 
 a river of golden melody, vibrating far into regions of 
 infinite light and love. 
 
THE FLIGHT 188 
 
 Isaac Snedeker gathered up the runaways and 
 prepared for flight. He separated them into two 
 groups — one he would carry in his own wagon, the 
 other was for Squii-e Higgins. It did not take long, 
 and the two wagon loads set out in the clear moon- 
 light. A little way towards the north they would 
 separate, each goiug according to a prearranged plan ; 
 and every fugitive arrived at last safely in Canada, 
 which was, after all, the land of C-anaan for them. 
 
CHAPTEE XII 
 
 THE CAMP-MEETING 
 
 On the morning of the great camp-meeting I stood 
 at the gate for nearly an hour waiting for a sight of 
 the Busby wagon, which was to take us, and when it 
 arrived Uriah Busby was so eager to be off that his 
 wife had barely time to call out to those standing at 
 the door to see us depart : 
 
 "You see it's jest as I said, Uriah says he'll git 
 there if it was twice as fur ag'in." 
 
 When we got to the main road we began to see signs 
 of gathering campers, but when we reached a place 
 called the " mud-holes" people could be seen in every 
 direction making for this spot where several roads 
 converged into one. 
 
 "Now, Uriah, you ain't a-goin' to land us in the 
 mud, air ye ? " said Mrs. Busby, as we neared the 
 deceitful holes. " If there ain't them Wagner boys, 
 plague take 'em ! I do hope we kin git through afore 
 they do." 
 
 " I reckon they ain't been drinking yet," said her 
 husband ; " it's too early in the day." 
 
 " I don't know 'bout that," returned Serena Busby. 
 "They don't look accommodatin', en ye see they're 
 doin' their level best to git ahead of us." 
 
 The Wagner boys were urging on their horses 
 almost to a gallop. 
 
 " Now, Uriah, don't be a fool ; jest rein up en let 
 
THE CAMP-MEETING 136 
 
 'em go it all they want to ; the folks at the camp ain't 
 a-goin' to shout much afore we git there ; en besides, 
 if ye dump me in the mud it'll be the fust en the last 
 time." 
 
 Uriah Busby did as he was told. The Wagner boys 
 made a dash for the crossing, but in the rush to be 
 fii-st they went too far to the right. When they got to 
 the middle, at a place where the mud looked shallow 
 but was in reality deep, over went the wagon and out 
 toppled the brothers. 
 
 " Providence air on oui* side," said Uriah, as he took 
 extra pains to keep to the left. 
 
 " It'll take some o' the dare-devil out of 'em, en if 
 it had been a Baptist camp-meetin' it 'ud took some 
 sousin' in the creek to wash the mud from their bodies 
 as well as the sins from their souls," remarked Mrs. 
 Busby. 
 
 Other travellers followed, all giving that particular 
 side of the crossing a wide berth. In about three 
 hours we arrived at another point where we could see 
 scores of people in wagons, buggies, and on horse- 
 back, making for the camp, now distant about an 
 hour. Many of the horses " carried double," while in 
 some of the big covered wagons sat whole families. A 
 blinding dust filled the air and covered our clothes, as 
 we di'ove along in the wake of others, receiving theu- 
 dust and kicking more of it up for those at our heels. 
 As the day began to grow hot we saw many indulging 
 in "drams" from the demijohn, and Serena Busby 
 remarked that there was sure to be some " kickin'-up " 
 at the camp towards evening. 
 
 As we got within two miles of the grounds the whole 
 populace, for a radius of many miles, seemed to be on 
 
136 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 the move, converging towards one point. From a 
 slight eminence which we had just attained, com- 
 manding a view on all sides, a scraggy line of white- 
 topped wagons could be seen descending a slope to the 
 right, while to the left, a little below us, another line 
 of twisting vehicles ascended in a slow, weary train, 
 enveloped in clouds of dust, now partly hidden behind 
 clumps of trees, now emerging like the remnant of 
 some scattered army crawling towards the precincts of 
 a friendly country. Once in a while we were passed by 
 young men on horseback who galloped their horses ; 
 others, in light buggies, shot past the heavy wagons 
 and were soon out of sight ; hundreds were on foot, 
 looking neither to the right nor to the left, and these, 
 as Uriah Busby observed, were the ones in dead 
 earnest, bound to get there no matter how. 
 
 We drove into the camp grounds about one o'clock, 
 and found two or three thousand persons already there, 
 with others pouring in by the hundred. 
 
 A shed had been erected large enough to shelter 
 several thousand persons, and out in the woods, 
 beyond the confines of the meeting-grounds, groups 
 of old reprobates and young rowdies had taken their 
 stand with whisky barrels and demijohns ready to 
 supply all who cared for strong drink, some of them 
 armed with pistols and murderous-looking knives. 
 Everyone was eating or getting ready to eat, for the 
 women had brought a goodly supply of edibles. 
 Tents were put up by some, while others would sleep 
 in the covered wagons, the men mostly under the 
 wagons or under the shed. It looked like an immense 
 gathering for a picnic ; and it was impossible to say 
 from the expression of people's faces what sort of a 
 
THE CAMP-MEETING 187 
 
 meeting it was, for no one seemed over-anxious ; all 
 seemed contented to be there let come what may. 
 Indeed, Mrs. Busby was right when she suid : — 
 
 " Te jedge by theii- looks they hev all saved their 
 souls en air now attendin' to their bodies, not te git 
 te the other world afore their time." 
 
 Uriah Busby unhitched the horses at a spot near 
 the creek, and after dinner Serena began to look 
 about her. 
 
 Presently she discovered someone she knew. 
 
 " Why, if there ain't Zack Caverly, of all people 
 in the world ! " 
 
 " Wal, I'll be blamed ! " exclaimed Mr. Busby. 
 '' Ye don't reckon he's come te sell whisky, 
 do ye ? " 
 
 "I reckon not. Zack's ez sober ez an owl, en ye 
 know it. Wal ! If there ain't Minerva Wagner ! I 
 want to know how she got here ! Must hev come 
 a-hossback, if she didn't come in a neighbour's 
 wagon, fearin' te risk her neck with them two good- 
 fer-nothin's." 
 
 And, sure enough, there was Mrs. Wagner, seated 
 on a big stump, talking to Ebenezer Hicks. 
 
 " My word ! " said Uriah Busby ; " it do give me a 
 disagreeable feelin' to see them fire-eatin' Baptists 
 settin' there waitin' fer te stir up mischief agin the 
 Abolitionists en the Methodists. They ain't out here 
 fer any good, I kin tell ye." 
 
 " You better b'lieve they ain't here fer any religion 
 they kin pick up ; I believe I ain't never seen her 
 look so sour and spiteful." 
 
 Zack Caverly led his horse over and settled himself 
 near our wa";on. 
 
138 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 " I heerd ye war comin','' he said, '' en the weather 
 "bein' fine I fixed te ride over en take things sort o' 
 easy dimn' meetin' time." 
 
 "Hev ye see many folks ye know ? " asked Uriah 
 Busby. 
 
 " The whole kintry's turnin' out ; thar's goin' te be 
 the biggest meetin' ever holdin' in this section. Ye 
 see, it's the fire-eatin' question thet's got hold on 'em, 
 en they all want te see which a-way the black cat's 
 a-goin' te jump. Summow, right er wrong, the 
 people hev an idee that this here meetin' ain't so much 
 fer religion ez it air fer politics, en thet's why ye see 
 so many Baptists en Campbellites en Presbyterians en 
 members o' the Methodist Church South sprinkled all 
 over the grounds. I heerd a man say they've got 
 Abe Lincoln on the brain." 
 
 '''Pears to me," said Mrs. Busby, "it's niggers 
 more likely." 
 
 The afternoon and evening of Thursday were given 
 up to preliminary services and to getting the huge 
 meeting into working order, and on Friday afternoon 
 the number of people on the ground was computed at 
 twenty thousand. 
 
 Eeligious services were held three times a day, and 
 in case of a revival the evening service would be pro- 
 tracted far into the night, perhaps all night, as it often 
 happened at such gatherings. But somehow the 
 meetings on Friday seemed without any signs of 
 enthusiasm; the people listened with respect to all 
 that was said, and they sang with a hearty will, but 
 there was something lacking. Uriah Busby remarked 
 to Zack Caverly that it was a spark from Heaven 
 that was wanting, to which the old pioneer replied 
 
THE CAMP-MEETING 189 
 
 that he thought so too, as there was plenty of tinder 
 in the congregation. 
 
 Before the evening service on this day, Friday, 
 Elihu Gest, Squire Higgins, Azariah James, and 
 several others decided on going out into the woods to 
 a lonely spot and praying for a revival at the next 
 service. 
 
 The people were all expectation at meeting- time, 
 the preachers did their hest, exhorters exhorted, but 
 there were no happy shouts, no groans of mental 
 misery, no conviction of sins. Squire Higgins said he 
 had often seen the like before, and counselled hope and 
 courage, but the Load-Bearer was certain they had 
 not prayed with sufficient faith and fervour. " The 
 people," he declared, " air all right, but they must be 
 tetched." 
 
 Saturday came, and at the morning service it was 
 decided to have a short but positive sermon on the 
 sins of the times, with some pointed remarks against 
 slavery ; for a good many were of the opinion that 
 this would fire up the people and prepare a way for a 
 revival in the afternoon. The sermon was preached 
 by a stranger from Missouri, but it failed to do more 
 than create a lively interest in the political questions 
 of the hour, and, curious to relate, just as this meeting 
 was brought to a close the negroes on the ground, who 
 numbered between two and thi-ee hundred, began a 
 meeting of theii' own off at one side of the white 
 camp, where certain freed negroes were found who 
 actually believed in slavery. 
 
 Their meeting was conducted in the orthodox 
 Methodist manner ; but those of the coloured people 
 who belonged to the Methodist Church South were 
 
140 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 believers in slavery, wliile the Methodist Church North 
 were against it, many of its members being extreme 
 Abolitionists. The coloured meeting was conducted 
 by two negro exhorters, presided over by a white 
 preacher, and when the exercises began by the singing 
 of a popular hymn : 
 
 " De golden chariot's hangin' low, 
 My breddern you'll be called on " — 
 
 the whole meeting, as Zack Caverly said, was soon 
 put in the "weaving way"; the great yellow eyes 
 began to roll in a sort of subdued ecstasy, the black 
 faces beamed contentment, and woolly heads rocked 
 in keeping with the lilt of the music. 
 
 It was not long before a tall, glossy black negro, 
 with small, piercing eyes and thick lips, rose,' and 
 with a look of mingled humour and cynicism, began 
 to speak. 
 
 " Breddern an' sistern," he said ; " some o' you done 
 hearn w'at de preacher ober in de white camp said 
 'bout dis yer slavery biznuz, an' I wuz askin' to myself 
 ez I sot an' heerd you all singin' an' gettin' happy — 
 which is better fer de coloured folks, to be boun' in 
 dis wurrul an' free in de nex', er te be free in dis 
 wurrul an' boun' after you am dead ? " 
 
 He licked his lips and eyed the congregation for a 
 moment before proceeding. 
 
 "I ain't got time to stan' heah an' answer no 
 questions 'bout de rights an' de wrongs ob de coloured 
 folks, but I 'low dar's some folks in dis meetin' wat's 
 run away fr'm der mastahs an' ain't in no hurry to go 
 back. But which am it better to do — cross ober 
 Jordan inter Canaan, er cross de State line inter 
 
THE CAMP.]\rEETING 141 
 
 Canada ? I'se gwine to make de observation 'bout de 
 black snake w'at change his skin, kase some ob you 
 settin' heah to-day done gone and made de change an' 
 ain't no-ways better oif. 
 
 " Dar wiiz a black snake w'at lef home an' 'gin ter 
 wander roun', but de sun gittin' sorter hot he say ter 
 hissef, ' I reckin hit's 'bout time fer to shed dis heah 
 skin, hit gittin' too hot to carry ' ; so he des slip hit 
 off, an' he done felt he gwine ter fly instead er crawl 
 on de groun'. \VTien de night come on de wedder 
 done git mighty cole, an' 'fo' long he come 'cross a 
 skin a rattle-snake des shuck hissef out'n. Mist' black 
 snake say ter hissef, ' I des 'bout slip in dar an' keep 
 warm ' ; but he ain't no sooner slip in dan 'long come 
 a white man wid a big stick an' he say, ' I don't 
 nebber kill no black snakes, but I kill all de rattle- 
 snakes I ebber come 'cross,' and wid dat he up an' kill 
 de black snake fust lick. 
 
 " Now, breddern, dis heah ain't no sermon. I'se 
 speakin' in w'at dey calls de paraboils ; dat's de 
 meanin' ob de observation fer de coloured folks, an' 
 dat is — don't nebber change yo' 'ligion, an' dont 
 nebber run away fr m yo' masters." 
 
 Despair took possession of the runaways who were 
 sitting listening, and during the proceedings that 
 followed one of the fugitives sought counsel of Isaac 
 Snedeker, who was attending the camp-meeting and 
 who had arranged that a number of runaways were to 
 gather here, this being considered the safest plan that 
 could be devised to accomplish their liberation. 
 
 The sensation created by the negro's story was such 
 that for the space of half an hour no preaching, nor 
 singing, nor exhorting would move the congregation ; 
 
142 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 but after a vigorous effort on the part of the preacher 
 and exhorters a movement of revival became apparent 
 at the farthest end of the meeting, seeing which one 
 of the exhorters pointed over the heads of the people, 
 and, with an angry look, cried out : 
 
 " Muster up dem mo'ners dar ! Prone 'em up, 
 Brudder Dixon. Brudder Luke Henry, mourn up 
 dem w'ats a-pantin' an faintin' down dar in de furder 
 aisle. Sis' Jones, whar's yo' singin' -voice ? You ain't 
 been out las' night a-imitatin' dem squinch-owls, is 
 you ? Now. help 'long dar ! I low we goin' keep 
 Satan fr m clippin yo' wings by de Lord's help dis 
 day." 
 
 The meeting of the coloured people proceeded in 
 due order, and by the time it came to an end the 
 afternoon service began in the main camp. The 
 people sat and listened but did not respond, and some 
 of the leaders were haunted by a presentiment of 
 failure. To make matters worse, the drunken rowdies 
 beyond the camp began to harass the preachers from 
 the rear, near the creek. Under the influence of cheap, 
 fiery whisky some of them acted like madmen, and a 
 plan was concocted to duck Azariah James in the 
 creek in the evening, after the last service. 
 
 The evening meeting began early and lasted till 
 late. At its close another consultation was held among 
 the preachers. Once more it was declared necessary 
 to go out and plead for grace and power to bring 
 about a revival. Uriah Busby advised his wife 
 to invite Elihu Gest and Azariah James over to the 
 wagon to take a " cold check, ez brother Gest looks 
 clean washed out en Brother James caved in, after 
 that long sermon o' his'n." 
 
THE CAMP-MEETING 143 
 
 " A cold check I " exclaimed Serena ; " you better 
 Mieve they want somethin' else besides hard boiled 
 eggs en bread en butter. Ill fix 'em up some real 
 strong coffee, steamin' hot. I kin boil the water in a 
 jiffy in that new kittle we brought 'long ; en I 
 calc'late ivell take a nip o' somethin' er nuther ez long 
 ez we're 'bout it, fer I feel a mite caved in myself, en 
 I reckin ye all do. I declare to goodness, Uriah, 
 I ain't see ye look so floppy since the comet scare ! " 
 
 The two invited guests came, and Mrs. Busby 
 spread a cloth on the ground and was about to prepare 
 the meal with the hot coffee when suddenly the Load- 
 Bearer interposed : 
 
 '' Jes' wait a while. Sister Busby. 'Taint no use — 
 I cain't wrastle with the sperit on a full stommick. 
 I ain't never hed no prayers answered that a- way. 
 We've got te go out yander en pray, en if ever I felt 
 the need of it it's right now. " 
 
 ' ' The meetin' wus sorter cold, en thet's a fac', said 
 Uriah Busby. 
 
 " It war lukewarm ; thet's the wust thing a man 
 kin say, for it shows thet the people feel comfortable- 
 like in thar sins." 
 
 " It's a pity Pete Cartwright's too feeble to be here," 
 remarked Serena, " fer if he wus hcd put 'em into hot 
 water quicker'n lightnin'. A lot o' them folks don't 
 want preachin' half so much ez brimstone; some 
 preachers carry it in their pockets like, en jes' throw 
 it over the people." 
 
 The preachers were gone about a quarter of an hour 
 and then returned to the Busby wagon and partook 
 of refreshments. The Load-Bearer's face was beaming 
 with contentment. 
 
144 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 " I feel like our prayers hev been heerd at the 
 throne o' grace," he said, as he seated himself on the 
 ground and took the coffee Mrs. Busby offered him in 
 a large tin cup ; " en this is the fust time I've hed the 
 feelin' since the meetin' opened. Te-morrer's the day." 
 
 " It most allers is,'' remarked Uriah. 
 
 " Thefs so,'' added Mrs. Busby ; " it takes two or 
 three days fer a meetin' like this te git het through 
 en through." 
 
 " I hev noticed more'n oncet how Sunday kin be 
 favoured by an outpourin o' the Sperit ; en if Sunday 
 passes 'thout a shakin' o' dry bones thar ain't much 
 hope left fer any protracted meetin'." 
 
 " Thet's a fac', Brother Gest," remarked Azariah 
 James ; " Sunday's the holy day in more ways 'n one. 
 What's done hez te be done, en will be done 
 te-morrer." 
 
 ''Here comes Brother Snedeker ! " 
 
 "Law me ! " exclaimed Serena. " IVe been wonderin' 
 what hed become o' ye." 
 
 '' And I have been hunting for you all," he said, 
 coming up to the circle. " There are a good many 
 rowdies and cut-throats on the outskii-ts of the camp, 
 and it looks as if they were hatching mischief ; they 
 have been drinking hard all the evening and are still 
 at it." 
 
 '' Air thar any slave-drivers among 'em ? " asked 
 Uriah. 
 
 " Not that I know of, but they are all enemies of 
 this meeting, and they are being encouraged by the 
 whisky-drinkers and pro-slavery Christians." 
 
 " But we ain't been disturbed in the meetin's yet, 
 that's one good thing." 
 
THE CAMP-MEETING 146 
 
 " No, but there's been fighting out round the 
 whisky-wagons every time the people assemble for 
 preaching. We are forming a company to protect the 
 preachers and the services to-morrow. We've got to 
 get at least a hundred men em-oUed as watchmen, and 
 another hundred who will swear to up and help if the 
 watchmen prove insufficient." 
 
 " I ain't got no special fears no-ways," said Elihu 
 Gest; "that is, not now." 
 
 " But ye hed before ye went out te wrastle," said 
 Uriah Busby. 
 
 " I tell you what it is, brethren," said Isaac 
 Snedeker, " I shall not be able to remain at the camp 
 longer than to-morrow midnight. I have three or 
 four loads of runaways to look after, and you, Brother 
 Gest, will have to take a party of ten. Brother 
 James will be allotted about the same number, and 
 I'll take as many as my wagon will hold." 
 
 " I reckon," said the Load-Bearer, " we'll hev te 
 fix te git clear o' the camp by Sunday night, fust 
 thing after preachin' closes." 
 
 " Here comes Squire Higgins ! " exclaimed Serena ; 
 " sumthin's th' matter ! " 
 
 '' We want all hands over by the preachers* 
 tent," he said hurriedly ; " there's going to be 
 trouble." 
 
 The Squire carried a stout hickory stick, and advised 
 all the others to arm themselves with the same kind 
 of weapon. 
 
 Most of the campers were asleep by this time, but 
 as we approached the spot indicated excited talk 
 could be heard and groups of men gathered as if in 
 consultation. 
 
 Y.S. L 
 
146 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 The preachers' tent stood behind the public platform, 
 midway between it and the creek, and here stood the 
 wagons, buggies, and rockaways of the preachers and 
 elders. The ruffians began by imitating the crowing 
 of cocks, the squealing of pigs, the shouting of " con- 
 victed " sinners, the mewing of cats ; and while one 
 band was engaged in holding the attention of the 
 preachers, another began to move off one of the 
 buggies to roll it over the bank into the creek, which 
 was ten feet deep at this place. 
 
 Elder Johnson's buggy was already wheeled to 
 
 within a few feet of the bank ; two of the rowdies 
 
 were about to let it fall into the water when Isaac 
 
 Snedeker brought his hickory stick down on the back 
 
 of the leader with such force that a cry of pain went 
 
 up from the culprit. The buggy was abandoned, but, 
 
 in the meantime, Azariah James had been seized from 
 
 behind by two powerful ruffians and was being led to 
 
 the creek to be thrown in. He went without offering 
 
 the slightest resistance ; but just as they reached the 
 
 bank the muscular preacher turned nimbly, and 
 
 bobbing up and down twice, in the twinkling of an eye, 
 
 he flung into the creek first one, then the other of his 
 
 would-be duckers. While this was going on another 
 
 carriage was being rolled towards the water, about 
 
 twenty yards away. This band was headed by the 
 
 two Wagner boys, who, sufficiently intoxicated to be 
 
 reckless of danger, were pulling the buggy by the 
 
 shafts ; but while they were pulling it in front others 
 
 were pushing from behind, and when they came to the 
 
 brink over went the buggy and the two brothers into 
 
 the creek I Mingled shouts of victory and derision 
 
 went up, and it was some time before the younger of 
 
THE CAMP-MEETING 147 
 
 the two got out of the water and climbed, half drowned, 
 up the bank. 
 
 Several knock-down fights were going on in the 
 vicinity, and amidst the general uproar no one had 
 time to think of the lifeless body of the other brother, 
 now lying in the creek. 
 
 Azariah James, Elder Johnson, Isaac Snedeker, and 
 their assistants, had given the ringleaders a severe 
 drubbing, stripped them of their weapons and driven 
 them, like so many sheep, in every direction. 
 
 Azariah James and Isaac Snedeker now formed a 
 party to attack the venders of whisky, which they 
 did at the break of day, driving them from the place 
 after pouring out the whisky on the ground. 
 
 Xot a cloud was to be seen when the sun rose that 
 Sunday morning. The smoke from the breakfast fires 
 curled slowly up through the trees, and the odour of 
 burning leaves and dry twigs perfumed the air with 
 delicious fragrance. The day was warm ; people felt 
 it was good to be alive, and many expressed a wish 
 that life would always be just like this. 
 
 Elihu Gest was right when he predicted that 
 nothing much would come of the morning service. 
 Serena Busby said the only two things the people did 
 with spirit was eating and singing. Alone, of all the 
 leaders in the camp, the Load-Bearer took a joyful 
 view of the religious situation. The others were 
 growing more and more pessimistic, 
 
 " The people air plumb sot in the sins o' the flesh," 
 was what Elder Johnson said when he left the plat- 
 form after the morning service ; but Elihu Gest went 
 so far as to whistle with " good feelin's," so that many 
 of the preachers began to regard him as somewhat 
 
 L 2 
 
148 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 suspect in earnestness. The proceedings at the after- 
 noon meeting were little more than a repetition of the 
 preceding service ; Elihu Gest, however, was nowhere 
 to he seen and Uriah Busby guessed he was " away 
 summars wrastlin' fer extry power." 
 
 The night settled down on the camp clear, calm, and 
 beautiful ; the people gathered in their places before 
 the great platform and altar palings a full half -hour 
 before the time fixed for the opening exercises, and 
 the number present exceeded that of any meeting yet 
 held. 
 
 However, services did not begin for some little 
 time after the hour fixed, as the body of the drowned 
 man was not discovered in the creek till now, and the 
 preachers were engaged in consultation behind the 
 big tent. 
 
 As the evening wore on the air became close and 
 sultry, and a feeling of lethargy bore down on the 
 people. Someone had advised the singing of several 
 hymns as the best mode of getting the congregation 
 into working order, and hymn after hymn was sung 
 while a tall, long-haired leader stood beating time 
 with his outstretched arm, waving to and fro with 
 an eccentric lilt of the body, up and down. The plat- 
 form was now filled with the preachers and exhorters, 
 and in some manner the whole front and all the sur- 
 rounding camp seemed metamorphosed. Something 
 extraordinary had happened. Yet it was not possible 
 to say what. 
 
 A storm was approaching ; but those who were 
 engaged in singing paid little heed to the rumbling of 
 thunder. A few minutes more and a squall descended 
 over the camp and a vivid flash sent a thrill through 
 
THE CAMP-MEETING 149 
 
 the assembly. The crash was followed by a hurricane 
 of shifting light that swept down closer and closer 
 over the camp. The lightning seemed to spring from 
 the ground, the air, the woods, the camp itself, and 
 it seemed as if objects moved in keeping with the 
 quick sheets of fire that came as bolts from the 
 heavens. Only a few lights were left in the lanterns, 
 and there was something spectral about the vast con- 
 course swaying like grizzled phantoms on the brink of 
 a yawning abyss. 
 
 Just before the hurricane passed away a dazzling 
 bolt struck the big elm beside the platform. It fell 
 in a blue-white zigzag, and to many of the more 
 superstitious it resembled nothing so much as a fiery 
 serpent poured from a vial of wrath overhead, for it 
 split the elm in two, the peal of thunder and the 
 cleaving timber mingling in one terrific report. 
 
 A great shout arose from the people near the tree, 
 and the commotion in that part of the meeting had 
 hardly subsided when a voice was heard as one calling 
 fi'om the shores of Tartarus. 
 
 Elihu Gest stood on the platform facing the assembly, 
 and a new meaning was added to the confusion and 
 the ghostly candle-light. A picture of peculiar fasci- 
 nation was now presented to the wondering and half- 
 dazed people. Arrayed behind the Load-Bearer, in 
 a jagged semi-circle that stretched from one end of 
 the platform to the other, sat all the preachers and 
 exhorters. Witnesses who had once mourned as 
 penitents before the altar now marshalled to make others 
 mourn, as fixed and motionless as statues hewn fi'om 
 syenite ; for there was about them something of the 
 mien of Egyptian bas-reliefs seated at the door 
 
150 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 separating life and death. Some were bearded and 
 grimly entrenched behind a hairy mask ; others, in 
 their long, pointed goatees, sharpened the picture ; 
 while others again, clean-shaven, and peering straight 
 before them, presented a death-like pallor, at once 
 frail and frightful, suggesting the keynote of the 
 incommensurable symphony of human emotions now 
 about to begin. 
 
 A deep, apprehensive solemnity pervaded every 
 portion of the congregation when the Load-Bearer 
 shouted, in tones that penetrated to the far end of the 
 camp : " You are being weighed in the balance ! 
 Tophet is yawning for the unregenerate ! " 
 
 A sensation as if the ground had begun to move 
 and float spread through the multitude ; and when a 
 little later, he cried : " You're hangin' to the hinges 
 of Time by a hair ! " all doubts vanished. Heads 
 began to droop, bodies swayed from side to side, 
 and then, one by one, in couples, in groups, every- 
 where in the meeting, people fell to the ground, while 
 stifled groans and loud lamentations issued from 
 hundreds of throats at once. 
 
 The mourners at the altar were now several rows 
 deep, but still the crowd staggered forward. The 
 camp resembled a coast strewn with the dead and 
 dying after a great wreck, and a murmuring tumult 
 alternately rose and fell like that from a moaning 
 wind and a surging sea. 
 
 The night of nights had come ! It seemed as if 
 hundreds were in the throes of death and would never 
 rise, so that a mingling of pity and dread filled those 
 who had long since professed religion ; for the strange 
 union of material and spiritual forces, the upturned 
 
THE CAMP-MEETING 151 
 
 faces, tlic gaping mouths, the gasping sighs, the 
 clenched hands, the sudden falling away of all worldly 
 props, the swift descent from the mountain of vanity 
 to the vale of sorrows rendered, for a moment, even 
 the helpers and exhorters speechless ; but, as Elihu 
 Gest finished, the exhorters on the platform rose and 
 scattered, each to a particular work, some descending 
 amongst the people, some addressing them from the 
 stand. 
 
 All the camp lights were now burning. In the 
 midst of the greatest confusion Squire Higgins stood 
 up where he could be seen, and called out : "Is Sister 
 Kezia Jordan present ? " 
 
 The people at that corner of the meeting rose from 
 their seats. The Load-Bearer and Azariah James 
 were lifting someone on to the corner of the platform. 
 Again Squire Higgins stood up and called out Mrs. 
 Jordan's name, and the word was passed from one 
 end of the camp to the other. ' ' Sister Jordan ! where 
 is Sister Jordan ? " All preaching and exhorting 
 ceased. An awful silence settled over the meeting, 
 for there, on the platform, lay all that was left of Ike 
 Jordan, who had been killed under the big elm when 
 a portion of the tree had fallen. 
 
 At last Mrs. Jordan appeared at the bottom of the 
 steps, at the left. She looked as if she might be 
 walking in her sleep, and Martha Higgins was leading 
 her by the arm. They mounted the steps slowly. 
 At the top Elihu Gest and Azariah James stood 
 waiting. On the platform a transformation had 
 occurred. Seated again in a long semi-circle were 
 the stern, statuesque figures, the faces more solemn 
 and anxious, more strained and yearning than ever ; 
 
152 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 and as Kezia Jordan passed along the platform and 
 approached the remains the Load-Bearer turned as if 
 suddenly inspired, and addressed her with the words : 
 " The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away," and 
 all the preachers finished the sentence with him: 
 " Blessed be the name of the Lord." 
 
 Mrs. Jordan now stood full in the lantern light, and 
 her pallor was plainly visible. She bent over the 
 body, then rose and whispered some words to Elihu 
 Gest. He turned, and facing the multitude announced 
 as loud as he could speak that Sister Jordan accepted 
 this great affliction in a spirit of faith and resignation, 
 and with her hand across her forehead, her eyes half- 
 closed, like one who had been dazed by a sudden and 
 bewildering vision, Kezia Jordan was led away by 
 Martha Higgins and the Load-Bearer down the steps. 
 
 Prayers and exhortations followed, and the shouting, 
 the hurrying to and fro, gave place to a feeling it 
 would be impossible to describe. 
 
 And now, far down on the outskirts of the congre- 
 gation, a voice was heard, high, shrill and broken, 
 which caused the people to turn in their seats and 
 riveted every eye to a spot where a tall figure 
 advanced, dimly visible, up the middle aisle. Out of 
 the woods and the night the apparition seemed to have 
 come, and with tottering steps, hair dishevelled, face 
 trembling and distorted, the once unbending form of 
 Minerva Wagner staggered towards the mourners' 
 bench, the colour gone from her rugged face, the 
 indomitable will from her proud, grey eyes, all her 
 strength departed. 
 
 She had just left the body of her son. 
 
 " Take me, take me, in all my misery ! " she cried 
 
THE CAMP-MEETING 153 
 
 out. " I'm an old woman in despair ! I'm a stricken 
 woman ! Pray for me ! " 
 
 She turned twice in a sort of whirl, and cast a look 
 of unutterable woe on the people on either side, who, 
 seized with feelings of awe and dismay at the sight 
 before them, could scarcely realise what was happening. 
 She staggered on, now assisted by friendly hands, and, 
 when she arrived at the altar, fell in a swoon among 
 the long rows of mourners. 
 
 All night the revival went on, and the next day, 
 and the next ; but on that same Sunday night, as the 
 Load-Bearer left the camp-grounds, and heard the 
 multitude singing : 
 
 " The year of jubilee has come, 
 Return ye rausomed sinners home." 
 
 he waved his hand and cried : " Let 'em mourn, let 
 'em mourn; jedgment ain't far off ! " 
 
CHAPTEE XIII 
 
 THE PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 
 
 One evening a well-dressed stranger called at the 
 Log-House and asked my father for hospitality for the 
 night. He proved to be a lawyer from the southern 
 part of the State, who was on his way north on 
 horseback. 
 
 Socrates was already there with one of his friends, 
 a rather distant neighbour. 
 
 Coffee was made twice in a large pot, and the cups 
 used were of the largest kind, even for those days. 
 Yet, somehow, there was a feeling that so much 
 stimulant was just the thing for that particular even- 
 ing, for Socrates and his friend had already told us 
 several stories of the earlier days in the South-west, 
 and the stranger was evidently being wound up for a 
 recital of something extraordinary in his life. 
 
 I had not yet seen such a character. Eather tall, 
 inclined to thinness, but with a large, bony frame, 
 with broad, angular shoulders, his long, dark face and 
 piercing black eyes were set off by a rough, pointed 
 goatee which seemed to sprout from his chin spon- 
 taneously like a weapon and a warning. And yet, 
 with all the seeming hardness, this stranger must 
 have been a lover of Nature and a sort of undeveloped 
 poet. 
 
 When at last we rose from the supper-table a half- 
 circle was formed around the hearth, and the stranger 
 
PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 155 
 
 settled himself, and, little by little, began to move 
 into the mysterious past, yet not so mysterious for 
 him as for us, the listeners. 
 
 " You see," he said, in answer to some questions 
 put by my father, " most of the settlers hereabouts 
 in those days came from Virginia, Kentucky, and 
 Tennessee. I came in from west of the Blue Eidge ; 
 and Western Virginia thirty or forty years ago was 
 about like Illinois is now.'' 
 
 " Consid'ably mixed,'' remarked Socrates. 
 
 " Yes, sii*, and for that reason we had all sorts of 
 people willing to stay, and all sorts willing to make 
 tracks for parts unknown. You've heard of the old- 
 time Regulators, I reckon ? Wal, I was at the first 
 meeting of the kind that ever took place in this 
 country, and to tell ye how it happened I must go 
 back to the war of 1812, when old Captain Roberts 
 was living in West Virginia with his beautiful and 
 wayward daughter, who was the cause of more trouble 
 in that and other families than was ever heard of in 
 any history outside these domains. She was most 
 beautiful, she was so, and I can tell ye all here now 
 that I never saw her equal in cool, fascinating ways, 
 and in looks that 'ud make some o' the young men 
 hereabouts follow to where the "willows are weepin' 
 night and day," as Pete Cartwright has it. She had 
 what a man down in my section calls the 'wildcat 
 eye,' that is, they were glassy and fiery one minute, 
 and dove-like an' winnin' the next. She had that 
 pride and independence that was natural to the women- 
 folk of her section. I saw her at times when she was 
 most too haughty and overbearin' for her folks to 
 abide with, an' then again I've seen her as skittish and 
 
156 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 troublin' as a kitten witli a mouse, and just as sassy 
 as a chipmunk in April. It was my belief then, an' 
 it is now, that Yicky Eoberts was plumb turned in her 
 head by bein' flattered an' spoiled, she bein' the only 
 child ; and it looked like a foreordination of events as 
 far as she was concerned. 
 
 " Now, Yicky Eoberts was courted by two young 
 men, cousins. Hank Cutler and Jack Stone. And 
 that, geutlemen, meant trouble from the word Go ; an' 
 what made things worse was the singular disposition 
 of Stone, who was a young man of few words, an' 
 somewhat quiet, an' given to serious thinking, with a 
 clear head, an' with more brains than some folks would 
 be willing to allow. Against Stone come in Hank 
 Cutler, with a cunnin' disposition an' considerably 
 given to underhand dealings, with a head as muddled 
 an' wayward as could be. 
 
 " The rivalry of these two was like the meetin' of 
 the clear waters of the Ohio with the muddy Missis- 
 sippi. Cutler was as reckless as any young man could 
 be in those days, with no conscience to speak of, and 
 to get the gal he was willing to sell his soul an' take 
 the consequences. He was tall and right smart in his 
 dress, an' calculated to win over any gal by his looks 
 an' manners, bein' of that particular stamp that catches 
 some women, as spiders catch flies, before they know 
 it. Anyhow, Cutler and Stone were in for it from 
 the start, an' no time was lost either way. 
 
 " When Vicky Eoberts saw how things were opening 
 up she kind o' hesitated, not knowingwhich to choose, 
 an' bein' more an' more flattered in her feelings she 
 kept both on 'em jumpin' on the string, not stopping 
 to think of the steel trap she was settin' for herself, 
 
PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 157 
 
 an' perhaps noways caring, either. Some said she 
 preferred Hank Cutler, others again were dead sure 
 she was in love with Jack Stone. But when old man 
 Cutler up an' died Hank was obliged to cross the Elue 
 Eidge on important business in the Old Dominion, and 
 during his absence the real trouble began. Eefore he 
 left Vicky Koberts made him believe, or he made 
 himself believe, that she was all right on his side, but 
 as soon as he was out of sight Stone took advantage 
 of the occasion by paying more and more attention to 
 Vicky Roberts. Her parents made no objection ; in 
 fact, they favoured Stone, he being the most gentle- 
 manly of the two and the most steady, an' it didn't 
 take more'n a few weeks after Hank Cutler's depar- 
 ture to make Vicky Roberts forget him and consent to 
 marry Jack Stone. 
 
 "But there was no minister to perform the ceremony. 
 What was to be done ? Time was most precious, 
 seeing that Cutler might arrive home before the 
 Methodist minister, then on his circuit, would come 
 that way. They decided to send for a justice of the 
 peace, named Williams, to unite them in marriage. 
 Now, Williams had been out of office for a good while, 
 but everyone declared him fully qualified to perform 
 the ceremony an' make it valid in the eyes of the law. 
 An' so Jack Stone an' Vicky Roberts were married in 
 all haste to repent in all leisure; and scarcely had 
 they become man and wife than here comes home 
 Hank Cutler ! 
 
 " Cutler didn't let on he was anyways afflicted by 
 what had happened. He attended the reception an' 
 congratulated the bride an' appeared cool an' took 
 things easy like ; but his head was filled with sinister 
 
158 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 plans. He waited his chance to see Vicky when the 
 people were leaving. The opportunity came, an' he 
 says to her : ' Look here, Vicky, do you know your 
 marriage isn't legal ? You ain't married according to 
 law.' 
 
 " Vicky Stone blushed and at the same time looked 
 Hank Cutler straight in the eye. Then, after a little, 
 she said : ' Hank, how do you know I ain't ? ' 
 
 " ' I know you ain't,' says he, ' that justice o' the 
 peace is disqualified by law ; his commission has 
 run out. You ain't married, Vicky, an' if you 
 have children they'll be bastards, an' Jack Stone 
 knows it ! ' 
 
 " She sat down in a chair right where she was 
 standin' all flustered and ashamed like, but Cutler 
 kept on : ' You think it all over, an' when you want 
 to free yourself I'll be ready.' 
 
 " When Stone returned to the house his wife asked 
 him plump an' straight : ' Jack Stone, are you dead 
 sure we're married according to law ? ' But after he 
 had explained matters an' put the seal of certainty on 
 the facts she kept silent, appearing sort o' strange an' 
 gloomy, an' attendin' to her duties without saying 
 much to anyone. And right here comes one of those 
 queer dealin's that, as Pete Cartwright says, gives the 
 devil his chance, and this is how it happened : At the 
 very time that Cutler come back from the Old Dominion 
 the Governor of Virginia had issued a proclamation 
 about the war that had just broke out between Great 
 Britain and the United States. There was a loud call 
 for volunteers ; now was the time for the young men 
 to show their mettle. There was sharp rivalry as to 
 who would show the most daring, and in the midst of 
 
PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 159 
 
 the boasting and confusion some folks lost their heads, 
 and one o' them was Stone. 
 
 " Cutler had already become a soldier, and for no 
 other reason than to lay a trap for Stone. Ilank 
 Cutler never looked so dashing as he did on the day 
 he joined the army. He walked about bragging of 
 the things he intended to do in the war and casting 
 odium on the young men who feared for their skins 
 and stayed at home ; and meeting Stone on the street 
 where there was a crowd gathered talking about the 
 war Cutler said to the people : ' I'll be hanged if I 
 don't fight for my country first and get married after'; 
 and then he declared that a young man who was tied 
 to a young gal's apron-strings warn't worth his rations 
 nohow, and more of the same kind. He strutted about 
 like a peacock and making about as much noise, until 
 Jack Stone hardly knew whether he was standing 
 on his head or on his heels, and well nigh dis- 
 tracted, knowing as he did that Cutler was mighty 
 favoured in the eyes of Yicky Koberts before her 
 marriage. 
 
 " At last Stone could stand it no longer. He signed 
 his name as a volunteer for six months. That same 
 evening there was a dispute between Stone an' his 
 wife. She demanded to know how he could bring 
 himself to join the army only a few days after their 
 marriage. She wanted to know how she would now 
 look in the eyes of the world, an' she told him she 
 might better be a widow. And not only that, but she 
 took it into her head that Stone had never loved her 
 an' was now enrolling himself as a volunteer to escape 
 the responsibility of the marriage relation. During 
 this particular time Hank Cutler had put in his best 
 
160 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 licks to help on the rupture. He had spoken to 
 Stone's wife just long enough to put a bumble bee in 
 her bonnet that would keep on buzzin' day an' night, 
 without rest. The more Jack Stone tried to explain 
 his actions the more his wife resented his explana- 
 tions. When he spoke of fighting for his country- 
 she looked suspicious, an' every time he spoke of 
 returning from the war in a few months her face 
 grew more set an' distrustful, nor would she speak 
 to him any more. 
 
 "All this time Cutler and Stone were conferring 
 together on matters concerning the war, Stone little 
 suspecting the deep designs of his rival and enemy. 
 One afternoon, towards the last of the summer, as the 
 sun was setting behind the old Virginia hills, an' the 
 birds flying low through the underbrush, an' all Nature 
 drowsing in the peaceful calm, an' the old trees castin' 
 their shadows along the descendin' slopes, Vicky Stone 
 met Hank Cutler a mile from her house, the meeting 
 lasting about twenty minutes. There was where 
 Cutler worked the mischief-world-without-end, an' 
 there was where she made up her mind not to let the 
 parson perform a legal ceremony of marriage when he 
 returned, as he was about to do in a few days. 
 
 " When she got back to the house there was some 
 talk of the parson's arrival, but she refused to entertain 
 the idea of a second marriage now, an', besides, Stone 
 himself didn't think it necessary, so the matter ended. 
 
 '' The whole country was up in arms. The Indians 
 had joined the British. Cutler and Stone belonged to 
 a company of spies in the army, commanded by 
 General Harrison, in the West, and in the discharge 
 of their duty as spies they enjoyed the privilege of 
 
PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 161 
 
 wandering about pretty freely ; an' more than this, 
 General Harrison appointed Cutler to seek out the 
 whereabouts o' General Hopkins, who was on his way 
 north from Kentucky. Cutler was only too anxious 
 for an occasion such as this, an' some folks say he 
 asked for the job. Anyhow, he succeeded in finding 
 General Hopkins an' transacting the business in hand, 
 but he never returned to the camp of General Harri- 
 son ; neither was he seen in any other camp of the 
 army. At the time they were expecting his return to 
 Harrison's army in the north-west Cutler was making 
 tracks for home. By day he was exerting his wits to 
 avoid meetin' soldiers, by night he was put to it to 
 steer clear of Indians. 
 
 " It was a long an' dangerous journey, an' it meant 
 hidin' a good part o' the time, sleepin' out in all sorts 
 o' weather ; and the hardships he endured proved his 
 frenzy for Vicky Eoberts, now Stone's legitimate wife. 
 In the army he was given up for dead, being killed 
 by Indians on his way back to camp, as everyone 
 supposed. 
 
 " But Hank Cutler was never so 'live and in fightin' 
 trim. His war experiences had done nothing else 
 than whet his appetite for dare-devil scrapes and still 
 more adventure, and I must allow things were all 
 on his side so far. The devil always wins the first 
 stakes. 
 
 " But where was Jack Stone all this time ? Yes, 
 sir, ye may well ask that. He was with the army 
 hundreds o' miles away, an' when Harrison took it 
 into his head to discharge Stone an' other volunteers 
 before the close o' the war he, too, made tracks for 
 home. 
 
 V.«. M 
 
162 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 " It was one o' those beautiful melting days in 
 Indian summer, when heaven meets earth an' settles 
 right down over everything, minglin' all things in 
 Nature an' human nature in one bond of harmony, as 
 it were, an' makin' folks feel as if it was a mighty good 
 thing to be livin' an' breathin', to say nothing about 
 love, which is more in most cases than anything else 
 a man can think of — it was on such a day at high 
 noon that Jack Stone come steppin' along as lithe as 
 could be up the slope leadin' to his house, an' walking 
 straight to the door opened it an' stepped in. Yicky 
 Stone was nowhere to be seen. He thought he heard 
 footsteps overhead, an' called out ; she would be down 
 directly ; perhaps she was fixin' on some nice ribbons 
 an' things to receive him in. Growing impatient, he 
 passed up the narrow stairway. The room was vacant. 
 He stood musing for a minute, then came downstairs 
 again. The whole place had a deserted look. He 
 huiTied to consult with Captain Eoberts, but the 
 Captain looked like one in mourning. 
 
 " ' I'm looking for my wife,' he says to the 
 Captain. 
 
 " ' An' I've been looking for my daughter for some 
 time,' was the answer. 
 
 " The two men stood an' stared at each other. Then 
 Stone says : ' How long has she been gone an' who 
 did she leave with ? ' 
 
 " ' About a mouth, but I know nothing about her 
 going. All I can tell ye is that she has left here an' 
 left for good.' 
 
 " Stone's wife had gone away ; no soul in the place 
 knew where to. The neighbours did their best to 
 pacify him, but nothing did any good. He walked 
 
PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 163 
 
 about like a man that had been dazed, not knowing 
 what to do. He was seen to go back into his 
 empty house, where he stayed for some time ; then he 
 walked out as a man would walk who had taken a 
 drop too much. He began to load his rifle, an' 
 after that he lit out down the hill an' across the valley. 
 He hadn't been gone many minutes when his house 
 began to blaze and before he had got across the 
 creek it fell in a heap o' ruins. He had set it afire 
 himself. 
 
 " Years passed. The war with Great Britain was 
 over ; the wars with the Indians were over, but where 
 was Hank Cutler ? Wal, I'm comin' to it as fast as 
 ever I can ; but I reckon it took some time for him to 
 play his cards after the deal was made, an' without 
 discountin' nothing it'll take some time to imravel the 
 yarn plumb to the last skein. 
 
 " Cutler had made arrangements to meet Vicky 
 Stone after sundown not far from her house. You 
 see he got there safe an' sound, and you see how Jack 
 Stone come back an' found his wife gone ; and now in 
 your mind's eye, if you'll just think steady enough 
 about it, you can see Hank Cutler an' Vicky Stone 
 floatin' down the Ohio on a raft they found tied to the 
 bank at the point where they struck the river. The 
 current bein' rapid they got to Cincinnati without too 
 much trouble, and there they stayed till their first 
 child was born, when their wanderin's began in good 
 earnest. 
 
 " There's where I saw them about six months after 
 their arrival. It seemed like I never set eyes on a 
 young woman with so much colour in her cheeks an' 
 such a sparkle in her eye, an' there was a look of 
 
 M 2 
 
164 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 pride an' defiance in her face that would make a man 
 halt and think twice before takin' liberties with such 
 a proud character. But Cutler, though mighty hand- 
 some, and bent on leadin' a life of independence far 
 removed from his old home in Virginia, began to show 
 traces of care an' dissipation. She looked as if she 
 feared nothin' on earth ; he looked worried at times, 
 and eyed every stranger that came his way, fearin' to 
 enter into conversation. 
 
 '' Then one day they left for parts unknown. Her 
 beauty had caused a regular sensation in that section, 
 an' it set tongues a-waggin' 'bout who she could be. 
 An' it must be said that there was somethin' in the 
 looks, dress, an' bearin' o' Cutler that interested 
 more'n one woman thereabouts, so that both attracted 
 attention wherever they were seen. 
 
 " But Cutler was conscious of danger. He wanted 
 to get where the settlers were few an' far between. 
 On his second move he made for Indiana, but didn't 
 stop long on that halt. He soon started on the third 
 journey, farther west, an' only stopped when he got 
 to the Wabash, thinkin' the place lonely enough to 
 escape; but after stayin' here several years he got 
 scared, an' suddenly pullin' up stakes, he hurried on 
 with all speed to the rich an' wonderful Sangamon 
 country, which, at that time, was a real paradise of 
 meadow-prairie, woods an' wild flowers, where whole 
 armies might hide in the tall grass in certain sections, 
 an' all the robbers on the face of the earth could find 
 both food an' shelter with the least trouble an' 
 expense ; for the land was full o' wild game, an' the 
 groves an' thickets were like so many ready-made 
 habitations. You see, in those days, each settler that 
 
PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 165 
 
 pulled up stakes over in Indiana to come out here in 
 Illinois had to follow his nose." 
 
 " An' the whisky in them days did put a red light 
 on some noses," remarked Socrates. 
 
 " It did so," continued the lawyer, '* but Hank 
 Cutler was too young to be affected that way. The 
 settlers that came to these regions 'long about 1819 
 or '20 wandered on pretty much by instinct, an' I've 
 known cases where they gave the lead to the horses 
 an' let the reins dangle." 
 
 *' A blind boss or a yaller dog — anythin' thet'll 
 walk b(if ore a two-legged creetur'," interrupted Socrates 
 again. 
 
 " Wal, they just took a westerly direction an' let 
 things slide, an' some of 'em struck it rich while 
 others struck it poor by halting before they come to 
 the right place. Now Cutler never halted till he 
 struck it right. He had got clean away from civilisa- 
 tion. He was the very first pioneer in this section of 
 the Sangamon country. In the covered wagon that 
 moved slowly into the peaceful an' lonely haven of 
 rest, much as a sailing boat would drift with a sluggish 
 current, there came, besides Cutler an' his erring 
 victim, two little children — one, a baby bom in the 
 wagon after they had set out from the valley o' the 
 Wabash, the other born the year before. The child 
 born in Cincinnati had died some time ago. It was 
 now plainly visible that Vicky Stone's beauty was 
 doorped. Her eyes were growing heavy, her com- 
 plexion was fading, her whole face was taking on an 
 expression of worry an' care. For her the beautiful 
 rolling prairies an' the rich bottoms of the Illinois 
 liiver was not a paradise but a valley o' shadows, an' 
 
166 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 as for Cutler, lie was sufferin' from hard drinking an 
 a scared remorseful conscience, — an' yet it ain't hardly 
 likely that Cutler had feelin's enough for remorse. 
 What he did feel was the presence near by of a batch 
 o' squatters that came into the country a little after 
 he got there, an' they had drove stakes not more'n 
 two miles off. 
 
 " It was Cutler's habit to keep a good look-out after 
 sunset, an' as he scarcely slept at night this come easy 
 enough, but the life of excitement an' suspense, with 
 every shadow turned into a phantom, was wearin' him 
 out. He looked almost middle-aged now, an' his face 
 showed lines of fatigue ; his eyes had lost that look of 
 darin' an' confidence that made him a favourite with 
 the gals back East. He had got about as far as his 
 tether would allow, an' he began to feel the pull in 
 dead earnest. An' now, worse than all, no sooner had 
 he got settled in the most secluded an' lovely spot he 
 could find, in a place now called Cutler's Grove, an' 
 not very far from this house neither, than a reg'lar 
 wave of immigration set in from Kentucky an' Indiana. 
 The newspapers of the cities on the Upper Ohio, an' of 
 Saint Louis, began to give accounts of the rich lands 
 of the Sangamon country, an'' Cutler found himself 
 once more surrounded by settlers, scattered here an' 
 there, an' among them others, like himself, ready for 
 any villainy. 
 
 " Cutler was on the point of moving once more, 
 but this time his victim objected, saying she was worn 
 out with anxiety an' the rough life he had led her. 
 
 " Down towards the river, about three miles away, 
 some new arrivals from Missouri had opened a small 
 store, where whisky was sold an' freely imbibed. It 
 
PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 167 
 
 was kept by outlaws an' frequented by men like 
 Hank Cutler ; and Cutler himself made this place 
 the headquarters for adventures an' expeditions of a 
 daring an' desperate nature. He now left home for 
 days together, an' Vicky Stone had little if any means o' 
 findin' out where he was or what he was doing. Cutler 
 was by nature more of a leader than the desperadoes 
 who kept this store, an' that is why he naturally took 
 the lead in most of the robberies committed thereabouts. 
 
 " Vicky Stone, left by herself for days an' nights, 
 with only dogs an' two little children for companions, 
 had plenty of time for sorrow an' weepin' ; but it 
 looked to me then, an' it looks to me now, as if Provi- 
 dence was kind of settin' of him up right in this new 
 garden of Eden to tempt him in the right way, for 
 there was no forbidden apples here in those days " 
 
 "Speakin' o' apples," interrupted Socrates, with his 
 round face all aglow, "speakin' o' apples, allers make me 
 think of ole Ezry Sparr, thet use ter live down thar 
 near Crow's Nest, jest afore ye come te the bend in the 
 river. He hed a real cute way o' treatin' the parsons 
 en circuit-riders thet come along thar. He had a 
 small apple orchard; 'bout the fust orchard ever 
 planted in these parts, I reckon, en his cider war 
 sweet when the crop war good, but hard en stunuin' 
 when apples war skase ; en one season when thar 
 warn't much of a crop te speak of along come Azariah 
 James and preacher Dew a-hossback. 
 
 "They war a-makin' fer the Conference over te 
 Mount Carmel, en bein' ez thirsty ez fishes out o' 
 water they called fer all the cider they could drink, 
 which war consid'able, the day bein' hot en the roads 
 dusty. Old Ezry Sparr stepped round ez perlite ez 
 
168 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 could be, but 'peared like he war extry long in f etchin' 
 the cider, en when it war sot on the table it war gone 
 afore anyone hed time te tell whether it war hard, er 
 whether it war saft, er whether it war calc'lated te 
 put 'em in the weavin' way ez the say in' is. 
 
 " Arter a while, preacher Dew sez : ' Wal, Brother 
 James, what d'ye think o' thet thar cider ? ' 
 
 " ' Thet's jes' what I war a-goin' to ask you,' he 
 sez, ' it beats all I ever see.' 
 
 " ' 'Tain't the seein' of it,' sez t'other, 'we didn't 
 take no time ; en besides, 'tain't allers wisdom te 
 fumble 'bout the mouth of a gift boss, seein' ez Ezry 
 Sparr don't never charge preachers fer what they drink.' 
 
 " ' I 'low ye're right,' sez preacher James, ' but I 
 reckon it's time te ride on ; it takes a heap of ridin' 
 to settle real hard cider,' 
 
 "Preacher Dew asked ole Span- te p'int out the 
 way te Crow's Nest, ez they war aimin' te reach the 
 Conference afore nightfall.' 
 
 " ' Straight on,' sez Sparr ; ' but on yer way ye'U 
 hev te pass through what the circuit-riders call the 
 land o' Nod, en ye'll strike it over yander whar ye 
 see thet p'int o' timber.' 
 
 " ' The land o' Nod ? ' sez Brother Dew. ' I ain't 
 never heerd o' no sech a place in this section.' 
 
 "'Very likely ye never did,' rej'ined ole Sparr; 
 ' but I'll be bound ye'll know it when ye git thar.' 
 
 " ' Be thar a sign-post ? ' 
 
 " ' Thar ain't no need o' one. Jes' keep yer eye 
 on this man,' he sez, puttin' his hand on preacher 
 James's shoulder, en sorter smilin', 'he looks like 
 he'll do fer a sign-post, at least ez fur ez ye'll go 
 this time.' 
 
PIONEER OF THE SANGAMON COUNTRY 169 
 
 " They rode off at a good canter, but they hcdn't 
 been out long afore preacher James sez : ' Looky 
 here, Brother Dew, don't ye think we'd better walk 
 our bosses? 'Pears like thet cider's workin' up, en 
 it looks like it'll pop the cork if we keep on joggin' 
 like this.' 
 
 " ' Wal,' sez t'other, ' I'm mighty anxious te reach 
 that p'int o' timber en find out jes' what ole man Sparr 
 did mean by the land o' Nod.' 
 
 " They rode on, en ez they come te the woods 
 preacher Dew reined up, en lookin' at Azariah James 
 he see him nod his head, then straighten up, en nod 
 ag'in ; then brother Dew hollered out : ' I'll be 
 hanged ef I ain't jes' seen the sign-post ! Brother 
 James, we'll git down right here en sleep off thet 
 stunnin' liquor ole Sparr tilled us up on.' 
 
 " They hitched up en slept in the woods all night, 
 en when they got te the Conference preacher Dew 
 took fer his tex' : ' Tetch not, taste not, handle not, 
 'ceptin' when ye're dead sure o' yer apples.' " 
 
 A hearty laugh followed, after which the lawyer 
 continued his story. 
 
CHAPTEE XIY 
 
 THE EEGULATORS 
 
 " Wal, as I was saying, Cutler was hard at work 
 playing out his last deal. One fall he an' the three 
 brothers who kept the whisky-store made it up 
 between them to rob a store down where Springfield 
 stands to-day. It had been opened by a man from 
 Kentucky who had come up the river by way of Saint 
 Louis, an' for that day an' time his goods were as 
 tempting as anything could be, an' what he had 
 appeared to most o' the settlers like a banquet o' good 
 things, although it was only sugar, coffee, tobacco 
 an' such like he kept. 
 
 " Cutler and his companions made a survey of the 
 the land, decided on a route, waited for a night when 
 there was no moon, and then set out on the expedition 
 of plunder. Two of the brothers rode horseback, 
 while the third drove a fast team with Hank Cutler. 
 After riskin' their lives they managed to slip away, 
 having robbed the store of everything they could 
 carry ; but coming back home they lost their way in 
 the dark an' had to pass by the house of a man who 
 recognised them. 
 
 " Now, when the three brothers were arrested 
 Cutler was not suspected. This gave him a chance 
 to bluff the justice o' the peace and the whole com- 
 munity by passing himself off as a lawyer, which was 
 easy, seeing that the justice o' the peace knew as much 
 
THE REGULATORS 171 
 
 of the law as a sheep knows o' the ways o' panthers 
 an' wolves. The stolen things were hid away in 
 Cutler's Grove, but wlien the trial come on more'n one 
 of us had cause to scratch our head an' wonder what 
 would become of us. Ye see, Cutler had been to 
 college in Virginia an' could spout enough Latin to 
 make the justice o' the peace ashamed of his ignorance, 
 an' so he sat there not knowin' what he was about or 
 what proceedin's to take in the matter ; and I don't 
 reckon there ever was a game played like it in this 
 country before nor since. It was just like little 
 children playin' at law. But Cutler had directed the 
 three brothers just what to say an' how to act ; an' 
 when the examination took place everyone came who 
 could get there. It was live or die for all of us in 
 those days. If the robbers got clear the danger for 
 all good citizens would be greater than ever. Excite- 
 ment ran high, an' every man brought his rifle an' a 
 dii'k. The place was so crowded that I had to edge 
 myself in as best I could till I got to where I 
 could see the prisoners fair an' square. There must 
 have been as many dogs in the crowd as there was 
 people, an' the snapping an' snarling more than once 
 drowned the mealy voice of the justice, who looked 
 scared and fearsome. But the settlers kept their 
 mouths shut, an' looked an' listened as they would 
 had it been the Day of Judgment itself. 
 
 '' The three brothers were brought in under guard, 
 an' the examination commenced. 
 
 " ' Jim Ferris,' says the justice, ' I want to know if 
 you can tell us where you were on the night that store 
 was robbed.' 
 
 " He was addressing the oldest of the brothers, who 
 
172 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 stood with his hands in his pockets looking for all the 
 world like a cross between a weasel an' a human 
 devil. 
 
 " 'Where was I?' he answered, in a loud piercing 
 voice that made the poor justice flinch in his seat ; 
 ' where was I ? Where folks that's worked hard 
 all day feel like they want to be — in bed, asleep.' 
 
 " ' In your own house ? ' 
 
 " ' Where else d'ye reckon I'd be ? ' 
 
 '' ' Joe Ferris,' he says, addressing the next brother, 
 ' can ye tell this Court were ye were on the night o' 
 the robbery ? ' 
 
 " ' With my brothers, at home in my own house.' 
 
 " The justice o' the peace looked like he was trem- 
 bling in his boots, an' his voice was descendin' more 
 an' more to a scared whisper. An' Cutler, seeing 
 how the land lay, sprang forward about the time the 
 third brother's turn came, an' lookin' the justice in the 
 eye with one o' them mesmerising glances of his, he 
 just toppled him over for good an' all by declaring off- 
 hand, an' with a mighty flourish of spunk, that he 
 was with the brothers on that night till late, an' it 
 would be more than human power for any man to leave 
 home at midnight, go so far, an' get home again by 
 morning. 
 
 " I was standing right where I could see most of 
 the settlers' faces, an' I was watching to see just 
 how they were taking the queer an' unheard-of 
 proceedin's. There was ole man Sawyer and his 
 two big six-footer sons that had just moved up from 
 Tennessee ; his big square face was like a bear trap 
 that had closed up by havin' a chipmunk run over 
 it, an' his mouth fixed so tight that it looked like 
 
THE REGULATORS 178 
 
 a crowbar couldn't get between it. As for his 
 eyes, they were for all the world just like the eyes 
 of a chiny cat, fixed an' starin' ; an' seein' him 
 an' the others like Andy Scott and Jim Biswell just 
 as set an' wonder-struck, I couldn't take my eyes 
 off 'em. 
 
 " The justice, all flustered an' broke up by Cutler's 
 bold looks and confident speech, up and says : ' The 
 prisoners are now discharged ! ' 
 
 " Ye could have heard a butterfly come in the room! 
 Old Sawyer's jaw dropped clean open, showin' his 
 long teeth, an' his tongue was halfway out as if he 
 was catchin' his breath like. 
 
 "At last the crowd began to move. One o' the 
 Sawyer boys let his rifle fall plumb across the paws of 
 a big dog layin' on the floor beside him. An awful 
 howl went up, in which all the other dogs joined, an' 
 'twixt the dogs, the robbers, an' the honest settlers, it 
 was confusion worse confounded. 
 
 " In the midst of the din Cutler an' the three Ferris 
 brothers slipped ofi" home. 
 
 " When the crowd was disappearing three or four, 
 like ole man Sawyer an' Jim Biswell, set to work to 
 confer about the best means for mutual protection. 
 Sawyer proposed to form a society to rid the country 
 of desperadoes, for there was a deep suspicion that 
 Cutler was the ringleader, and the law, as it stood, 
 was powerless. 
 
 " There was a small meetin' held, but nothing 
 important was decided on. As time wore on Cutler 
 seemed to be getting the advantage of the Ferris 
 brothers in business matters, for he opened out a store 
 that took the shine off all the others in that section, at 
 
174 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 the same time keepin' in with his ole friends, the 
 Ferrises. Business was so good that Hank Cutler did 
 nothing but store-trading an' selling, gettin' most all 
 his goods direct from Saint Louis by boat, an' his 
 store soon got to be the leading meetin'-place for idle 
 an' suspicious characters. 
 
 " 'Now, it was noticed that Cutler spent considerable 
 of his time visiting down by the river bottom, where 
 it was rumoured that a man from the South had settled 
 on bottom land. This man was possessed of more 
 money in cash than any of the other settlers, for it 
 seemed he had a large sum locked up an' stored away ; 
 an' as there were no banks to put money in he was 
 obliged to hide it as best he could right on his 
 diggin's. 
 
 " It wasn't long before Cutler was joined in his 
 visits to this man by two of the Ferris brothers. The 
 aim was for Cutler to have all the help he could get 
 to carry out his plans for the biggest robbery yet 
 undertaken in the Sangamon country. 
 
 " During their visits to the bottom Cutler an' his 
 companions informed themselves of the new settler's 
 intentions. They found out that he would soon be 
 making a journey to Saint Louis by boat, an' that in 
 his absence he would leave in his cabin valuables to a 
 considerable extent. 
 
 " When Cutler found out all he wanted to know, 
 aud more, he came home one day in hot haste an' 
 prepared to sell out all he possessed except his horses 
 an' a few things he had to keep for future use. The 
 next day he made known the announcement of the 
 sale — his cabin, an' all the contents of his store was 
 for sale, except a stock of whisky which he could not 
 
THE REGULATORS 175 
 
 •part with. Things were going for a mere song, as 
 they say, an' you can believe me, his sudden selling 
 out an' departure created a commotion among the 
 settlers, an' all sorts o' rumours. While the sale w^as 
 proceeding Cutler was actin' mighty strange. He 
 stayed at home nights, he kept silent, an' grew more 
 an' more gloomy an' sullen. Towards the last he was 
 in such a hurry to sell out that he almost gave things 
 away, and for miles people hurried in to get the 
 unheard-of bargains that were going. 
 
 " The honest folks heaved a sigh of relief when 
 they saw these things, and looked forward to a time of 
 peace after Cutler's departure. When the day of 
 departm-e arrived it was noticed that two of the Ferris 
 brothers went with him, an' this looked kind o' queer, 
 but Cutler laughed away suspicion as he so often did 
 before, and made like he was only going off on a 
 pleasure excursion. 
 
 " He set out about noon on a beautiful day in the 
 early spring, and moving as fast as the horses would 
 go he crossed the Illinois river, an' coming to an 
 abandoned cabin on MacKee's creek towards the dusk 
 of the evening, stopped there and fixed to take 
 up his residence as long as it suited his intentions 
 an' plans. 
 
 " Yes, sir, you better believe the long-sufi"erin' 
 settlers back on the other side o' the river received this 
 news with feelin's anything but gay an' festive. Cutler 
 hadn't moved more'n ten miles further west. It was 
 noticed that the two Ferris boys didn't return, but 
 stayed away, an' it was hoped they had lit out for 
 good ; but they were busy rehearsing theii* parts an' 
 getting ready for a big haul. 
 
176 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 " One night Cutler an' his two accomplices dressed 
 themselves up as Indians, with faces painted red an' 
 white, an' made for the bottom where the rich settler 
 lived. The owner was away at Saint Louis, leaving 
 his home in charge of his wife, his son, aged about 
 eighteen, an' a young daughter. All of a sadden they 
 were terrified by the visit of the robbers, who knew 
 exactly where to look for the hidden valuables. There 
 was no resistance offered. Cutler an' his companions 
 took what they wanted, an' in five minutes decamped 
 with the booty — a large sum of money, in fact all the 
 rich settler possessed in cash. 
 
 " The very next day the news was brought to the 
 settlement by a messenger on horseback. There was a 
 hurried secret meeting. The greatest precaution was 
 necessary in order to insure success, for the oldest 
 Ferris was still at his store, and every movement of 
 honest folks was watched, an' everything would be 
 reported to Cutler an' the others. 
 
 " It took two or three days to get the notice of the 
 meetin' circulated among those most interested. The 
 messages had to be sent to an' fro by stealth in round- 
 about ways, and finally the meetin' -place was fixed at 
 Jim Biswell's cabin, it being surrounded mostly by 
 hazel bushes, with two roads leading to the back hid 
 by a thick growth o' tall saplings. 
 
 ' ' The appointment was for the early morning, as it 
 was thought that Jim Ferris an' his spies would not 
 be likely to be on the look-out at that time, an' when 
 all had arrived the meetin' was called to order by ole 
 man Sawyer, who up an' says : ' Friends, I reckon ye 
 all know what we are here for. Ye've heard the 
 news of the last robbery.' 
 
THE REGULATORS 177 
 
 " * Yes, yes, we all know, an' we want to act,' cried 
 several voices. 
 
 " Then let's proceed to business,' said the first 
 speaker. ' I propose friend Biswell here to occupy 
 the chair dmin' the proceedin's.' 
 
 '' Jim Biswell, being chosen, made them a speech. 
 
 " ' Ye all know,' he said, ' what the Eangers were 
 during the time of the Indian wars an' depredations, 
 an' that they were formed for the purpose o' clearin' 
 the western countries of wandering bands of evil- 
 doers. But the days o' the Eangers is past, an' now 
 the time is ripe for something to take the place o' 
 those organised fighters on horseback. The time has 
 come for each settlement to stand on its own legs. 
 Friends, ye've seen how the justice let off the Ferris 
 gang, an' how the law, as such, works out to favour 
 the men with the greatest cunning an' the most 
 reckless daring. Now, we ain't got no mounted 
 Rangers to give us good law an' good deeds, an' I 
 propose right here to fit out a company of Regulators 
 to do our work an' rid this settlement an' the neigh- 
 bourhood of all robbers an' desperadoes, an' that in 
 the quickest time possible.' 
 
 " ' Ye're right,' said ole man Sawyer, 'for the next 
 thing we'll know murder will take the place o' 
 robbery.' 
 
 " ' An' we might far better be murdered,' said Jim 
 Biswell, * than to have all the money we possess taken 
 from us, an' nothin' left to start work on.' 
 
 " ' Ye're right,' spoke up several voices. 
 
 "Up to this time Andy Scott had been sitting there 
 as still an' unpretending as you please, an' there was 
 nothing about his looks to attract much notice, except 
 
 V.S. N 
 
178 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 he had but one eye, an' the other was kind o' droopin' 
 an' heavy, which gave him the appearance of a man 
 who had seen considerable service an' was now set in 
 his mind on taking things just as easy as the law 
 would allow, an' a little easier than the Cutler gang 
 were disposed to permit at that particular time. 
 Wal, Andy Scott took the corn-cob pipe out of his 
 mouth, spat on the floor, squared up, an' says : 
 ' I've been a Eanger myself, an' fit Indians an' 
 chased robbers all over Indianny an' Kentucky, an' I 
 b'lieve I'm good for any fightin' these here diggings 
 can scare up, without wantin' to brag. I'm willin' to 
 follow, or I'm willin' to lead; I don't care a shuck 
 which it is — I'm ready. All I want to see is this here 
 settlement cleared o' varmints like Cutler an' Ferris, 
 an' the quicker the better.' 
 
 ''You better believe one-eyed Scott began to look 
 like a leader, an' Jim Biswell put the question : 
 ' What do you reckon is the best way to go about 
 dealin' with this band ? ' 
 
 " ' Give 'em all the rope they're after,' he says. ' I 
 propose to form a company o' volunteers right here an' 
 now, to regulate matters an' carry out the law 
 accordin' to the wishes of all honest folks in this 
 section.' 
 
 " The majority of voices were in favour of Andy 
 Scott's proposition, and the chairman proceeded to ask 
 for volunteers. The two Sawyer boys, Jim Biswell, 
 Andy Scott, his sixteen-year-old son, myself, an' six 
 others put down their names as willing to take imme- 
 diate action, and the meetin' next set to work to 
 elect a leader. And this was not so easy. 
 
 'There was at the meetin' a man they called 
 
THE REGULATORS 179 
 
 Major, who had been one of the most outspoken 
 against the Cutler band. Someone proposed Andy- 
 Scott as captain ; but Scott, fearing to take precedence 
 of a man who had been an officer in the war, named 
 the Major, an' this proposition was carried; a com- 
 mittee was formed to arrange an' organise. The 
 volunteers bound themselves by oath to carry out a 
 stated an' determined line of action to rid the country 
 of all evil-doers, A paper was signed by the chair- 
 man, the committee, and all the volunteers. 
 
 " There was another secret meeting ; some doubted 
 the Major's capacity to lead in such an undertaking 
 because he was known to be a man considerably given 
 to talk. Finally things come to a head by an arrange- 
 ment for all to meet at sundown the next day in a 
 dense thicket near the cross-roads, and from there 
 make straight for the other side o' the river to Cutler's 
 house on the creek. "We arrived at the meetin' -place 
 in good time, but found no Major. We waited, an' 
 still our appointed captain failed to appear. We 
 waited for more'n an hour, but the fact was the brave 
 Major was at home having supper with his wife, but 
 pretending to be too sick to come to the meetin' -place. 
 The Major was scared, an' soon after he pulled up stakes 
 an' left for parts unknown, bein' ashamed to face the 
 people. Wal, no one could tell just what to do next. 
 All the volunteers were willing an' ready to move on 
 an' face the desperadoes, come what may, but there 
 was no captain. While we were talking matters over 
 one o' the Sawyer boys said he saw something movin' 
 in the woods to the left ; we raised our rifles and stood 
 waiting, but nothing more was seen or heard of a 
 suspicious nature, an' we all laid it to young Sawyer's 
 
 N 2 
 
180 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 imagination an' proceeded to settle who should be our 
 leader. Andy Scott was chosen. But Scott was not 
 a boaster, nor a man who wanted to lead in anything. 
 He was an up-an'-down fighter, an' as brave as a lion, 
 but only wanted to follow a good captain, an' most o' 
 the volunteers were young an' inexperienced men. It 
 begin to look as if the expedition to the robbers' roost 
 must be abandoned for want of a leader, when out 
 Jumped a man from the bushes and cried out : 
 ' Hold, friends ! I've heard all you've said. I 
 understand you want a leader. I too have been 
 robbed by the villain you're looking for. I want to 
 be your captain an' assume all responsibility in this 
 proceeding if you'll let me have that honour an' 
 satisfaction.' 
 
 "Andy Scott then spoke up, an' says: 'I believe 
 you're the man I see down by the Ohio not more'n 
 six months ago, an' you went by the name of the 
 Wild Hunter ? ' 
 
 " ' Yes,' chimed in Jim Bis well, ' I've heard o' you 
 more'n once, an' it 'pears like I recognise you from 
 the description they give o' your dress, your cap in 
 particular, which seems to be made o' panther skin.' 
 
 "He had a half -wild expression that made some of 
 us stand back somewhat, not knowin' into what 
 scrapes he might take us ; but his body was as nimble 
 as a deer, an' his whole appearance was calculated to 
 win over our confidence in the long run. He had on a 
 buckskin hunting shirt, deerskin leggin's, an' moccas- 
 sins on his feet. His step was as lithe as a panther's, 
 an' it was no wonder he come so near us without makin' 
 his presence actually known. He carried a long knife, 
 an' his rifle was one of the finest anywhere to be seen. 
 
THE REGULATORS 181 
 
 He stood eyeing our company as cool as a cucumber, 
 with his hands folded across the muzzle of his gun. 
 
 '"You're right, friends,' ho says. 'I've been in 
 the southern part of this country and I've been called 
 by some the Wild Hunter, but I don't intend to settle 
 for long in this section. I want to find where Cutler 
 is, an' I don't care much who goes with me. If I 
 knew how to get there I'd start alone. I must an' 
 will find him. I've been hunting for him long 
 enough. A rude fate directed me to this spot just at 
 this eventful time.' 
 
 " ' You see,' he continued,' looking at every one of 
 us as if he could see plumb through us, 'I've been to 
 Cutler's store, but I was three days too late. He had 
 sold out an' left, an' I was now lookin' for some signs 
 whereby I might reach him, as they told me he had 
 halted about ten miles off.' 
 
 " ' Are you intendin' to settle hereabouts?' asked 
 Andy Scott. 
 
 " ' My business is with Cutler, and not with any- 
 one in the settlement nor with any interests in this 
 section o' the country, but if you'll take me for your 
 captain we'll be off without delay.' 
 
 " There was some talk as to the risks of accepting 
 a stranger, but at last Andy Scott up an' says : 
 ' Looky here, boys, I ain't afeared to follow no 
 man, an' I reckon this here company's got as much 
 spunk as I have. This stranger looks to me dead on 
 the square. There ain't nothin' in names, but I'd 
 like to ask the stranger his name just to have 
 something to call him by.' 
 
 " ' Wal,' says the hunter, with a desperate look, 
 ' since ye seem willing to call me your leader, you can 
 
182 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 allude to me as Captain Stone. I've been nine years 
 in search of Hank Cutler ! ' 
 
 "It was now dark, an' we had miles of trackless 
 wilderness to wander through. When we came to 
 a cleariDg we made rapid progress, but when we 
 came to water an' thick woods we got lost more'n 
 once. 
 
 " Stone stepped along as light as a young buck. 
 We talked in whispers. There seemed to be some 
 guidin' power assisting Stone to sense out the way 
 straight an' clear in spite of almost insurmountable 
 obstacles. He took us knee-deep through water, he 
 tore through underbrush an' thicket, he almost ran in 
 places where it was level an' the ground clear. But 
 when it came to the river we halted. It began to 
 look as if we could never get across, and we lost 
 precious time in making several unsuccessful attempts 
 at crossing. It seemed just like a dream when we 
 found ourselves on the other side making dead-sure 
 tracks for MacKee's creek, which we struck about 
 half -past eleven. Here we took a turn, an' going 
 straight north for about half-an-hour all at once we 
 come dead in sight o' Cutler's cabin. There it stood, 
 in the clearing, as lonely an' as solemn as a horned 
 owl on a forsaken barn-door. An' it was midnight at 
 that ! I can tell ye it gave me shivers down my back 
 when I saw it. I've been all over this country as far 
 as settlers have got, an' I've seen as much as most, 
 but I hadn't ever seen or felt anything to equal the 
 looks o' that cabin standing there in the clearing. It 
 was unearthly. There was just light enough to see 
 some things pretty plain, though the moon was 
 droppin' below the trees behind the cabin, an' after 
 
THE REGULATORS 183 
 
 moving' a little closer Andy Scott allowed lie could 
 make out there was smoke coming from the chimney. 
 
 '''But they're asleep,' says Jim Biswell, 'there 
 ain't no light in the house.' 
 
 " ' It don't make no difference,' he replied; ' light 
 or no light we've got to go slow, for I 'am dead 
 certain they ain't more'n had time to go to bed.' 
 
 " Scarcely had he uttered the words, when the door 
 opened and a blazing light streamed out as far as the 
 wood line. A little more and the light would have 
 struck us where we stood, but, as luck would have it, 
 we were standing right where we could see clear 
 across the room, from the open door plumb to the 
 chimney -place. In another second we could see 
 someone moving about. Then we could see two ; and 
 just as we were begginnin' to wonder how many there 
 were inside, the whole band became visible walkin' 
 about. 
 
 " ' "Whoop-ee ! ' whispered Biswell, ' they're all 
 there.' 
 
 " We stood an' counted 'em — Cutler, Jim Ferris, 
 and his two brothers. They were going an' coming 
 from the fireplace, burning up papers an' other stuff 
 that they took from the last house they robbed. They 
 were destroying the evidence. 
 
 " ' Let's make for 'em ! ' 
 
 "Andy Scott spoke so loud, it seemed like the 
 robbers must hear him an' get a start on us. 
 
 " Captain Stone waved his hand. 
 
 " ' Wait an' watch here,' he said, ' till I go forward 
 a little closer.' 
 
 " Another big blaze rose up in the chimney ; we 
 could plainly see the men sorting, counting, an' 
 
184 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 dividing piles of coin. A table stood at one side, 
 an' on it was a whisky bottle. When the counting 
 an' dividing was over, Cutler poured out for all to 
 drink, an' we could hear the words : 
 
 " ' Fill up, boys, we can all aflford it after the last 
 haul ! ' 
 
 " Captain Stone had now got within a few yards of 
 the cabin. Yes, sir, we were all mighty excited. We 
 could scarcely keep from making a dash for that open 
 door ; and it seemed like Stone was listening a long 
 time to hear just what was bein' said, but he was only 
 gone a few minutes. When he returned he gave us 
 orders to follow close at his heels an' wait for the 
 word of command, whatever that might be, an' we all 
 set to wonderin' just what his intentions were as to 
 the capturin' o' Cutler. It was clear he didn't want 
 us to run up an' shoot now that we had got to the 
 place an' had a dead spot on every member o' the 
 band. Stone had worked out what to do. That man 
 could see ahead ; he knew exactly how things would 
 turn up ; an' he was the least excited of us all. 
 
 " ' Follow me, comrades,' he said in a whisper, and 
 we crept up till we were close enough to hear every 
 word spoken in the cabin. 
 
 " Cutler an' his gang were finishing off the last of 
 the whisky. Cutler said : ' It's time to get some 
 sleep ; we've got to be away from here by sunrise, 
 for we've got the biggest ride before us we ever done. 
 We've got to get clean away till we get into the 
 Indian country, north-west o' here.' 
 
 '' But Jim Ferris opened another bottle o' whisky 
 an' set it on the table an' began to pour out, an' 
 with that they all set round the fire with their feet 
 
THE REGULATORS 186 
 
 sprawled before 'em as careless an' shiftless as ye 
 ever see. 
 
 " Stone was now right before the door. He was 
 waiting for Cutler to stand up. The very minute he 
 did so the captain, with eyes like a wild cat, made one 
 bound inside. 
 
 " ' Stand there till I kill ye ! ' he hollered out, his 
 voice hoarse with nine years of pent-up fury. 
 
 " Cutler stood like he was petrified. He was gapin' 
 at Stone with a ghastly look when Stone sent a bullet 
 through his heart. He fell in a dead heap. We made 
 a rush for the Ferris gang, who were so taken aback 
 an' filled with liquor that no resistance was made. An 
 awful scream came from above an' down rushed Vicky 
 Stone. 
 
 " Lord a' mercy ! I can see her now, with her hair 
 all loose, an' her eyes wild with despair, a-bendin' 
 over the body an' makin' out to listen for signs o' life, 
 an' shoutin' : ' Is he dead, is he dead ! Have you 
 killed him ! ' 
 
 " Stone stood a moment gazing at the haggard 
 featm-es of the once beautiful Vicky Roberts, then 
 pulled her away from the body, an' getting her over 
 where the light shone plumb in his face he jerked ofi" 
 his big panther cap, an' lookin' at her, asked : ' Have 
 you ever seen me before ? ' 
 
 " A terrible scream was all the answer she gave, and 
 the unhappy woman fell in a swoon on the floor. 
 
 " ' It is enough 1 ' he said. ' I reckon judgment 
 has been delivered as far as we have got ' ; and with 
 that he fixed to leave the cabin and was soon lost in 
 the darkness. 
 
 ' We buried Cutler in the woods, and this was the 
 
186 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 first grave of a white man in these parts. We warned 
 the Ferris brothers to quit this section, giving them 
 ten days to clear out, but at the end of that time we 
 went with Andy Scott as captain of the Eegulators 
 to Cutler's Grove an' found the brothers still there. 
 They defied us. "We burned the cabin, bound the 
 three desperadoes, took 'em to the river several hours 
 distant, made a rough raft o' water logs, forced the 
 brothers on to it an' then pushed it out to float down 
 stream with nothing but the clothes on their backs. 
 We told them to return meant certain death. 
 
 " Vicky Stone made her way back to Virginia, 
 where I have always heard it said that Stone came to 
 see her once a year regular an' never stayed more'n 
 about ten minutes. 
 
 " On his twelfth yearly visit he saw her die ; but 
 no one ever knew what passed between them in that 
 last solemn hour. 
 
 " Jack Stone followed her to the grave, and after 
 the burial took his gun and walked away, and was 
 never again seen or heard of. 
 
 " An' now, sir," our visitor concluded, '' you have 
 heard the story of how the first company of Regulators 
 came to be formed, an' who it was that filled the first 
 grave in these western wilds." 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 ALTON AND THE MISSISSIPPI 
 
 My first good view of the Mississippi was from the 
 bluffs behind the city of Alton. 
 
 The praii'ie we had left was full of birds, insects, 
 flowers, and animals, but now from the great river 
 and the scenery all about there issued forth something 
 suggestive of silence and destiny. In the west rosy 
 clouds floated like scattered wings in an emerald sky, 
 Avhile on the Missouri side a vii'gin forest shone in all 
 the russet and gold of a western autumn. There was 
 something bewildering in the never-ending flow of the 
 silent waters from unknown sources in remote 
 Minnesota to the far-away shores of the Gulf of 
 Mexico, primitive, savage, majestic in its loneliness, 
 laving banks of islands fringed with the long tresses 
 of willow and wild grape, through what seemed to me 
 a country of perpetual adventure and romantic change. 
 With its noiseless, stealthy current, and in harmony 
 with all the surroundings, there came over the mind a 
 newly awakened sadness like that produced by vague, 
 faint music arriving in the night. 
 
 It was much the same with the prairie, with the 
 difference that, while the wind moved the tall grass 
 in wave-like undulations, here a vast space of water 
 was moving in a flat, compact body without waves, in 
 one fixed and endless direction, and all the hopes, 
 fears, and affections of the world could vanish in this 
 
188 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 current towards the gulf of oblivion and leave not a 
 memento behind. It was the place where philosophers 
 might sit and ponder on the mystery of time and 
 eternity. 
 
 Down a few miles below, to the south, just above 
 the mouth of the Missouri, there was an island covered 
 with foliage, situated in mid-stream, which to me was 
 a place full of mysterious charm. I used to sit gazing 
 in that direction, trying to imagine how things looked 
 in the wonderful meeting-place of the two great rivers. 
 From the bluffs back of the town I could see for miles, 
 but my favourite place to sit was just above our house, 
 on the outskirts, looking south, with nothing to mar 
 the wild, primitive charm of river and wood, for in 
 this spot the town itself was invisible. There were 
 days when I sat for hours on this bluff ; the supreme 
 moments came with the passing of boats, such as the 
 War Eagle J the City of Louisiana^ or the Post Boy^ 
 down the Mississippi in full mid-stream. The War 
 Eagle was a side-wheeler plying between St. Louis 
 and Keokuk, the Fost Boy was a stern- wheeler plying 
 between St. Louis, Alton, and towns on the Illinois 
 Eiver. When a boat made the return journey down 
 stream it put the last touch of enchantment to the 
 face of the waters. It filled me with visions of distant 
 worlds as it skimmed the smooth surface, the smoke 
 from the chimneys leaving a long, scattered trail, the 
 white steam puffing out of the 'scape pipes in rhythmic 
 movement, the paddle-wheels throwing out thick 
 showers as the beautiful apparition sped like a dream 
 southward. Around it gathered all the illusions 
 natural to ignorance and inexperience. It departed 
 down the river like some vision floating away on the 
 
ALTON AND THE MISSISSIPPI 189 
 
 stream of adventure into regions to me unljnown and 
 unheard-of. Other boats came and went, each with a 
 wild, inarticulate charm, but when I heard the long, 
 low, sonorous whistle of some new and strange arrival 
 the effect was such that I went about in a sort of 
 ecstasy and my mouth was sealed for the rest of that 
 day. 
 
 These boat whistles were musical and suggestive 
 beyond anything I have ever heard since ; they gave 
 to the river region something poetic and mystical ; 
 they were the voices that broke the silence and 
 haunted the shores of the great valley, and the effect 
 of these sounds while the boat loomed slowly up the 
 Mississippi in the deepening dusk gave me a frisson 
 of the supernatural. Out of what curious world was 
 the boat now emerging ? From what land of adven- 
 ture had it found its way thus far ? On the nights 
 when I saw the fitful lights far down the black gulf 
 and heard the thrilling sounds of whistle and puffing 
 engines, sleep was a thing not to be thought of, and 
 I lay awake thinking and wondering. 
 
 About two miles from the town there was a place 
 where boys used to band together to "go in swim- 
 ming," and in this spot I took my first swimming 
 lesson. One day I swam a little too far from the bank 
 and found it hard work to escape from the powerful 
 Mississippi current. Here at this particular spot there 
 was a delicious shaded creek where we fished for 
 perch and bass, and farther on, in the woods, we went 
 in search of paw-paw trees and came across flying 
 squirrels, strange birds, and huge flocks of wild 
 pigeons. These were the woods of enchantment, by 
 the borders of the Father of Waters, in the soft, warm 
 
190 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 autumn days when health and unadulterated joy made 
 life worth living. 
 
 Eafts and drift logs were other things that added 
 romance to the Mississippi, the raft especially, it being 
 an object that floated without emitting any sound. It 
 looked frail and phantomesque, in keeping with the 
 strange shores and virgin forests, the people handling 
 it giving the impression of men arriving from some 
 shipwreck on distant seas. 
 
 Alton gave me hundreds of new sensations, but the 
 town itself did not interest me so much as the boats 
 at landing-time, the heaving of the big gang-plank by 
 bands of black, burly negroes, the fearful oaths of the 
 semi-savage mates of the genus slave-driver, beings of 
 a class apart, whole continents of civilisation sepa- 
 rating them and us, the bustle and hurry of passengers 
 coming off or going on, the timid, languorous air of 
 some of the country people with heavy carpet-bags, 
 the sharp, keen faces of old-timers and professional 
 gamblers, the interminable line of negro boat-hands, 
 coming and going like great black bumble-bees from 
 a floating hive which emitted steam and smelt of tar 
 and spices, the profoundly suggestive air of cosmo- 
 politanism whiffed out from the deck in bales of 
 cotton, barrels of sugar, rum, molasses, tobacco, and 
 sacks of grain that made the stoutest negroes stagger 
 like drunken men, a fresh volley of curses smiting 
 them when they appeared about to fall — all this filled 
 me with amazement. I held my breath the first time 
 I heard the mate hurl volley after volley of oaths at 
 the perspiring negroes, hustling helter-skelter to get 
 the work done within a given time. I saw the black 
 man actually at work. Hundreds of times then, and 
 
ALTON AND THE MISSISSIPPI 191 
 
 later, on the levee at St. Louis, I stood and watched 
 these black deck-hands, and singling out someone 
 weaker than the others I wondered how he would 
 manage to carry his load up or down the gang-plank. 
 
 One day a group of idle negroes were standing 
 watching the departure of the War Fugle, when I 
 overheard some observations touching the profession 
 of a Mississippi mate. 
 
 ''Don' you set dar en talk te me 'bout dat War 
 Eagle mate bein' 'tickler," said the oldest of the 
 negroes. " You's too young y it ; wait till you git on 
 one o' dem boats w'at goes furder down de ribber en 
 den you likely see summin w'at make you 'member 
 dar's a debble w'at hold a mo'gage on po' weak niggers. 
 If you 'low dis mate am full o' p'izen don' you nebber 
 go 'way fr'm heah ; if yo' shanks am ekil te ca'y'in' a 
 load up dat gang-plank 'thout stoppin' de bref in yo' 
 wind-pipe den I say keep on right whar you is. Talk 
 te me 'bout cussin' ! You ain't nebber heerd none 
 yit ! Dat mate down on the Belle o Me??iphis he fling 
 a tail o' brimstone behin' dem niggers w'at fill de air 
 wid blue sparks, dat he do, en one o' de hands he fin' 
 it so hot on de gang-plank he topple ober in the ribber 
 te cool hisself off ; yes, sah, he topple ober jes' te 
 'scape de red-hot cussin' o' dat mate. Nudder time 
 one o' de hands he 'low he gettin' de rumatiz in his 
 shoulder-blade, en 'low he 'bliged te stop ca'y'in' 
 barrels en passels on his back, but fust thing he know 
 he fin' hisself comin' up de gang-plank on de Belle o' 
 Memphis mos' doubled up under one o' dem big loads, 
 en he 'gin to puff en blow, en right dar de mate he 
 broke loose en he 'gin te let off steam, en he cussed 
 dat tremblin' nigger till de rumatiz fin' it 'greeable 
 
192 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 te change fr'm de upper story te de heels, en dat ole 
 nigger don' nebber feel it no mo' in de shonldah- 
 j'ints. Yes, sah, you heah me ! " 
 
 The buildings and stores of Alton and the general 
 aspect of the whole place impressed me with a sense 
 of age. There was about it something mature, settled, 
 old-fashioned; but I discovered many years later that all 
 the river towns were dreamy and sleepy except those 
 in the far north. 
 
 Here I went to the public school, but I cannot 
 remember having learnt a single thing worth knowing 
 except perhaps Longfellow's " Psalm of Life," which 
 the whole school, boys and girls, repeated in chorus 
 every morning at the opening. This was a " Yankee " 
 school, the principal, Mrs. Lee, and the class-room 
 teacher, Mrs. Crane, being from IN'ew England. One 
 old saw out of the geography I remember to this 
 day : when Mrs. Lee put the question to the brightest 
 girl in the school, '' What did the Mexican soldiers 
 do when they first heard the sound of the American 
 cannons ? " she gave her golden curls a shake and 
 bawled out the answer : '' They thought it was thunder 
 and lightning and fled from them." 
 
 Her name was Eosa Coffin ; and the name, her 
 fearless manner, her smartness, and the Mexican war, 
 all combined to stamp this little incident on my 
 memory. 
 
 Going to this school must have been part of the 
 great sub-conscious scheme of romance in my life ; it 
 had to be. It was a pleasant waste of time. What 
 I enjoyed most about it was the sight of hundreds of 
 swallows or martins inhabiting holes in the banks of 
 the new street cut through the hill over which I had 
 
ALTON AND THE MISSISSIPPI 193 
 
 to pass before I could reach the school-house. This 
 was to me a never-euding charm. 
 
 In Alton my parents were communicants at Christ 
 Church Episcopal. The service was to me very curious 
 and solemn, the severe face of the bearded rector, Dr. 
 MacMasters, exactly fitting the rough stone walls of 
 the church and the dim sepulchral atmosphere of the 
 edifice within. My parents sometimes went to hear 
 Dr. Taylor preach at the Presbyterian Church, and 
 here I heard a new set of hymns, but to my thinking 
 — and I think so still — they lacked the sentiment, 
 originality, and simplicity of the old Methodist hymns 
 of the prairie. The fact is this Alton and everything 
 in it was a chip off the old block of New England and 
 European conventions. Looking back at it now, I 
 cannot see any difference between it and Boston or 
 London, excepting in size and geographical situation. 
 
 We were living in a large old house on the southern 
 outskii'ts which had once been occupied by nuns who 
 had a private school there. It faced the great high- 
 road leading out into the prairies, and we could see 
 from the windows the wagons and buggies arriving 
 from the country far beyond. This residence was 
 the halfway house between the Log-House and the 
 one we were to occupy in St. Louis ; and it was for 
 me well that it was so, for in this way the change from 
 the open prairie to the cosmopolitan metropolis of 
 Missouri was made gradually. 
 
 One day our attention was attracted to the number 
 of people coming down the hill in wagons and on 
 horseback, and while watching them two figures that 
 looked familiar approached, jogging along on steeds 
 that looked tired. The men had about them something 
 
 v.s. 
 
194 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 odd, almost fantastic. As they passed the house 
 we recognised Azariah James and Elihu Gest. In 
 less than half-an-hour along came Isaac Snedeker, 
 then other familiar faces. But what did it mean ? 
 All the old outspoken Abolitionists from up-country, 
 with some of the Pro-Slavery people, were filing past. 
 "When my father was asked what was the matter, he 
 only said : " To-morrow is the great day ! " 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 ABRAHAM LINCOLN 
 
 It was the 15th day of October, 1858. Crowds 
 were pouring into Alton. For some days people had 
 been arriving by the steam-packets from up and 
 down the river, the up-boats from St. Louis, bringing 
 visitors with long, black hair, goatees, and stolid. Indian- 
 like faces, slave-owners and slave-dealers, from the 
 human marts of Missouri and Kentucky ; the northern 
 visitors arriving by boat or rail, Abolitionists and 
 Republicans, with a cast of features distinctly different 
 from the types coming from the south. 
 
 They came from villages, townships, the prairies, 
 from all the adjoining counties, from across the 
 Mississippi, from far-away cities, from representative 
 societies north and south, from congressional com- 
 mittees in the east, from leading journals of all political 
 parties, and from every religious denomination within 
 hundreds of miles, filling the broad space in front of 
 the Town Hall, eager to see and hear the now famous 
 debaters — the popular Stephen A. Douglas, United 
 States Senator, nicknamed the "Little Giant," and plain 
 Abraham Lincoln, nicknamed the " Rail- Splitter." 
 
 The great debate had begun on the 21st of August 
 at another town, and to-day the long-discussed subject 
 would be brought to a close. Douglas stood for the 
 doctrine that slavery was nationalised by the Consti- 
 tution, that Congress had no authority to prevent its 
 
 o 2 
 
196 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 introduction in tlie new Territories like Kansas and 
 Nebraska, and that the people of each State could 
 alone decide whether they should be slave States or 
 free. Lincoln opposed the introduction of slavery 
 into the new Territories. 
 
 On this memorable day the '' irrepressible conflict " 
 predicted by Seward actually began, and it was bruited 
 about that Lincoln would be mobbed or assassinated 
 if he repeated here the words he used in some of his 
 speeches delivered in the northern part of the State. 
 From the surging sea of faces thousands of anxious 
 eyes gazed upward at the group of politicians on the 
 balcony like wrecked mariners scanning the horizon 
 for the smallest sign of a white sail of hope. 
 
 This final debate resembled a duel between two 
 men-of-war, the pick of a great fleet, all but these 
 two sunk or abandoned in other waters, facing each 
 other in the open, the Little Giant hurling at his 
 opponent, from his flagship of slavery, the deadliest 
 missiles, Lincoln calmly waiting to sink his antagonist 
 by one simple broadsider. Alton had seen nothing 
 so exciting since the assassination of Lovejoy, the 
 fearless Abolitionist, many years before. 
 
 In the earlier discussions Douglas seemed to have 
 the advantage. A past-master in tact and audacity, 
 skilled in the art of rhetorical skirmishing, he had 
 no equal on the " stump," while in the Senate he 
 was feared by the most brilliant debaters for his 
 ready wit and his dashing eloquence. 
 
 Eegarded in the light of historical experience, 
 reasoned about in the light of spiritual reality, and 
 from the point of view that nothing can happen by 
 chance, it seems as if Lincoln and Douglas were 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN 197 
 
 i predestined to meet side by side in this discussion, and 
 unless I dwell in detail on the mental and physical 
 contrast the speakers presented it would be impossible 
 to give an adequate idea of the startling difference in 
 the two temperaments : Douglas — short, plump, and 
 petulant ; Lincoln — long, gaunt, and self-possessed ; 
 the one white-haired and florid, the other black-haired 
 and swarthy ; the one educated and polished, the other 
 unlettered and primitive. Douglas had the assurance 
 of a man of authority, Lincoln had moments of deep 
 mental depression, often bordering on melancholy, yet 
 controlled by a fixed, and, I may say, predestined will, 
 for it can no longer be doubted that without the 
 marvellous blend of humour and stolid patience so con- 
 spicuous in his character, Lincoln's genius would have 
 turned to madness after the defeat of the Northern 
 Army at Bull-Eun, and the world would have had 
 something like a repetition of ISTapoleon's fate after the 
 burning of Moscow. Lincoln's humour was the balance- 
 pole of his genius that enabled him to cross the most 
 giddy heights without losing his head. Judge Douglas 
 opened the debate in a sonorous voice plainly heard 
 throughout the assembly, and with a look of mingled 
 defiance and confidence he marshalled his facts and 
 deduced his arguments. To the vigour of his attack 
 there was added the prestige of the Senate Chamber, 
 and for some moments it looked as if he would carry 
 the majority wdth him, a large portion of the crowd 
 being Pro-Slavery men, while many others were " on 
 the fence " waiting to be persuaded. 
 
 At last, after a great oratorical effort, he brought his 
 speech to a close amidst the shouts and yells of 
 thousands of admirers. 
 
198 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 And now Abraham Lincoln, the man who, in 1830, 
 undertook to split for Mrs. Nancy Miller four hundred 
 rails for every yard of brown jean dyed with walnut 
 bark that would be required to make him a pair of 
 trousers, the flat boatman, local stump-speaker and 
 country lawyer, rose from his seat, stretched his long 
 bony limbs upward as if to get them into working 
 order, and stood like some solitary pine ou a lonely 
 summit, very tall, very dark, very gaunt, and very 
 rugged, his swarthy features stamped with a sad 
 serenity, and the instant he began to speak the 
 ungainly mouth lost its heaviness, the half-listless 
 eyes attained a wondrous power, and the people stood 
 bewildered and breathless under the natural magic of 
 the strangest, most original personality known to the 
 English-speaking world since Eobert Burns. There 
 were other very tall and dark men in the heterogeneous 
 assembly, but not one who resembled the speaker. 
 Every movement of his long, muscular frame denoted 
 inflexible earnestness, and a something issued forth, 
 elemental and mystical, that told what the man had 
 been, what he was, and what he would do in the future. 
 There were moments when he seemed all legs and feet, 
 and again he appeared all head and neck ; yet every 
 look of the deep -set eyes, every movement of the 
 prominent jaw, every wave of the hard-gripping hand, 
 produced an impression, and before he had spoken 
 twenty minutes the conviction took possession of 
 thousands that here was the prophetic man of the 
 present and the political saviour of the future. Judges 
 of human nature saw at a glance that a man so 
 ungainly, so natural, so earnest, and so forcible, had no 
 place in his mental economy for the thing called vanity. 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN 199 
 
 Douglas had been theatrical and scholarly, but this 
 tall, homely man was creating by his very looks what 
 the brilliant lawyer and experienced Senator had failed 
 to make people see and feel. The Little Giant had 
 assumed striking attitudes, played tricks with his 
 flowing white hair, mimicking the airs of authority 
 with patronising allusions ; but these affectations, 
 usually so effective when he addressed an audience 
 alone, went for nothing when brought face to face 
 with realities. Lincoln had no genius for gesture and 
 no desire to produce a sensation. The failure of 
 Senator Douglas to bring conviction to critical minds 
 was caused by three things : a lack of logical sequence 
 in argument, a lack of intuitional judgment, and a 
 vanity that was caused by too much intellect and too 
 little heart. Douglas had been arrogant and vehement, 
 Lincoln was now logical and penetrating. The Little 
 Giant was a living picture of ostentatious vanity ; 
 from every feature of Lincoln's face there radiated 
 the calm, inherent strength that always accompanies 
 power. He relied on no props. With a pride suffi- 
 cient to protect his mind and a will sufficient to defend 
 his body, he di-ank water when Douglas, with all his 
 wit and rhetoric, could begin or end nothing without 
 stimulants. Here, then, was one man out of all the 
 millions who believed in himseK, who did not consult 
 with others about what to say, who never for a moment 
 respected the opinion of men who preached a lie. My 
 old friend, Don Piatt, in his personal impressions of 
 Lincoln, whom he knew well and greatly esteemed, 
 declares him to be the homeliest man he ever saw ; but 
 serene confidence and seK-poise can never be ugly. 
 What thrilled the people who stood before Abraham 
 
200 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 Lincoln on that day was the sight of a being who, in 
 all his actions and habits, resembled themselves, 
 gentle as he was strong, fearless as he was honest, 
 who towered above them all in that psychic radiance 
 that penetrates in some mysterious way every fibre of 
 the hearer's consciousness. 
 
 The enthusiasm created by Douglas was wrought 
 out of smart epigram thrusts and a facile superficial 
 eloquence. He was a match for the politicians born 
 within the confines of his own intellectual circle : 
 witty, brilliant, cunning and shallow, his weight in 
 the political balance was purely materialistic ; his 
 scales of justice tipped to the side of cotton, slavery 
 and popular passions, while the man who faced him 
 now brought to the assembly cold logic in place of wit, 
 frankness in place of cunning, reasoned will and judg- 
 ment in place of chicanery and sophistry. Lincoln's 
 presence infused into the mixed and uncertain throng 
 something spiritual and supernormal. His looks, his 
 words, his voice, his attitude were like a magical essence 
 dropped into the seething cauldron of politics, reacting 
 against the foam, calming the surface and letting the 
 people see to the bottom. It did not take him long. 
 
 " Is it not a false statesmanship," he asked, " that 
 undertakes to build up a system of policy upon the 
 basis of caring nothing about the very thing that every- 
 body does care the most about ? Judge Douglas may 
 say he cares not whether slavery is voted up or down, 
 but he must have a choice between a right thing and 
 a wrong thing. He contends that whatever community 
 wants slaves has a right to have them. So they have, 
 if it is not a wrong ; but if it is a wrong he cannot say 
 people have a right to do wrong. He says that upon 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN 201 
 
 the score of equality slaves should be allowed to go 
 into a new Territoiy like other property. This is 
 strictly logical if there is no difference between it and 
 other property. K it and other property are equal his 
 argument is entirely logical ; but if you insist that one 
 is wrong and the other right there is no use to institute 
 a comparison between right and wrong." 
 
 This was the broadsider. The great duel on the 
 high seas of politics was over. The Douglas ship of 
 State Sovereignty was sinking. The debate was a 
 triumph that would send Lincoln to Washington as 
 President in a little more than two years from that date. 
 
 People were fascinated by the gaunt figure, in long, 
 loose garments, that seemed like a "huge skeleton in 
 clothes," attracted by the homely face, and mystified, 
 yet proud of the fact that a simple denizen of their 
 own soil should wield so much power. 
 
 When Lincoln sat down Douglas made one last 
 feeble attempt at an answer ; but Lincoln, in reply to 
 a spectator who manifested some apprehension as to 
 the outcome, rose, and spreading out his great arms 
 at full length, like a condor about to take wing, 
 exclaimed, with humorous indifference, " Oh ! let him 
 go it ! " These were the last words he uttered in the 
 greatest debate of the ante-helium days. 
 
 The victor bundled up his papers and withdrew, the 
 assembly shouting, " Hurrah for Abe Lincoln as next 
 President ! " " Bully for old Abe ! " '' Lincoln for 
 ever ! " etc., etc. Excited crowds followed him about, 
 reporters caught his slightest word, and by night time 
 the bar-rooms, hotels, street corners and prominent 
 stores were filled with his admirers, fairly intoxicated 
 with the exciting triumph of the day. 
 
CHAPTEE XVII 
 
 ST. LOUIS : SOCIETY AND THE CHURCHES. 
 
 In the late autumn of 1859 we were settled in 
 St. Louis, and for me, at least, the real stress and 
 movement of life began. 
 
 Alton, as I said before, was the halfway house 
 between the open prairie and the cosmopolitan city on 
 the Mississippi, the great Emporium of the West, as 
 it was called at that time. The weather was cold and 
 gloomy, the air full of smoke, the houses old and 
 dingy ; there was not the faintest suggestion of any- 
 thing bright or cheerful. 
 
 St. Louis looked old, perhaps, because its spirit was 
 old ; its character was fixed, like that of a person long 
 used to fixed modes and habits, conventional and con- 
 tented. There was no hurrying and bustling. Things 
 had always progressed slowly because of the atmo- 
 sphere of southern lethargy and luxury, the ease and 
 nonchalance in which so many of the ruling classes of 
 St. Louis had been born and bred. Without slavery 
 the city would have worn a very different aspect. 
 
 Society in St. Louis was the outcome of two things: 
 the institution of slavery, and the fact that the 
 majority of the leading citizens were church-going 
 Episcopalians ; yet it required all sorts and conditions 
 of people to compose a cosmopolitan city, and St. 
 Louis had them — thousands of free-thinking Germans 
 opposed to thousands of German Catholics j thousands 
 
ST. LOUIS: SOCIETY AND THE CHURCHES 203 
 
 of Irish, almost to a man faithful Catholics ; the 
 descendants of old French families from Louisiana, 
 mostly Catholics; Scotch and American Presby- 
 terians, Unitarians, Congregationalists, but not many 
 Methodists. 
 
 In the commercial world the Yankees ruled ; but 
 the old, slow, languid, proud, hospitable founders of 
 St. Louis, and its social leaders, were the owners of 
 slaves, and they formed the majority of the members 
 of the Episcopal Church. 
 
 In St. Louis this church was at the head of fashion, 
 and social exclusiveness and the code of honour was 
 that of Virginia, Maryland, Kentucky, and the Far 
 South. The Europeans who emigrated to America at 
 that time could not grasp the facts in relation to this 
 proud, aristocratic class. It was slavery that came as 
 a barrier. People from the Eastern States, as well as 
 people from Europe, had white servants ; the old St. 
 Louisians were never served by white people. Yet all 
 went well in society as a whole. The Germans lived 
 apart, principally in the northern and southern 
 portions of the city ; the French kept to their old 
 customs and traditions ; the Irish, as a class, lived 
 apart, and in case of illness they would send for a 
 doctor who was an Irishman. 
 
 My parents became communicants of Trinity 
 Episcopal Church in Washington Avenue. The 
 different churches in St. Louis were to me like 
 different people. I studied them as I would a rare 
 flower or a curious picture. Our Sundays were 
 portioned off as follows : At nine in the morning I 
 went with my eldest sister to Sunday-school at 
 Trinity, where she had a class of very young people, 
 
204 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 and where I sat under Henry Simons, a young man 
 who, later, became a wealthy and influential citizen, 
 and who, for all I know, may be still living. As soon 
 as Simday-school was over the church began to fill for 
 the morning service. At one o'clock we went home 
 for a cold luncheon, my mother permitting no cooking 
 to be done on Simday, after which I started again 
 with my sister to attend an afternoon school at Dr. 
 Anderson's Presbyterian Chui'ch, on Sixth and Locust 
 Streets. My sister taught another class here, and no 
 sooner was this school over than we hurried away to 
 the south-western part of the town for another Sunday- 
 school at a Presbyterian Chui'ch where Mr. Wood was 
 the leader. 
 
 We had only time to return to the house for another 
 cold meal, when again we set out for Trinity Chm-ch, 
 my parents always attending both morning and 
 evening services to hear Dr. Hutchinson preach in his 
 simple way, without a gesture, without an idea, 
 without the faintest suggestion of any deep emotion 
 or reviving influence. The old order might have gone 
 on till the present for all that this good man's sermons 
 did to change anyone or anything. As I remember 
 it, the congregation here was typically exclusive and 
 conventional ; ceremonious to the point of bowing 
 with extreme deference and courtly politeness when a 
 lady was being ushered to a seat in the softly-cushioned 
 pews, the congregation rising and sitting down like a 
 company of well- drilled soldiers, no one turning to 
 look about, no sensational incident ever occurring to 
 mar the unity of the whole. 
 
 Three persons in this congregation stand out clearly 
 defined to my vision, even at this distance : there was 
 
ST. LOUIS: SOCIETY AND THE CHURCHES 205 
 
 a young man named William H. Thompson, the head 
 of Trinity Sunday-school, who, elegant in his dress, 
 manner, and figure, used to bow his beautiful wife 
 into her pew as if she had been a royal princess 
 attending some formal Court function ; there was a 
 distinguished citizen named D. A. January, tall, stiff- 
 necked, with an eagle eye and a powerful head, he, 
 too, conducting a beautiful wife to her pew with a 
 courtly, imperious air ; and my father, towering some 
 inches above the tallest, the most imposing of them 
 all, as straight as a statue, inflexible as a steel rod. 
 
 It would seem that such an assembly were destined 
 to sit Sunday after Sunday without a thrill of emotion, 
 but there were moments during the service when 
 music came to make up for the lack of eloquence and 
 power in the preaching. Yes, we had music ! And, 
 of all things in the world, operatic music. We sat 
 under the spell of a paid choir ; we were charmed by 
 the incomparable voice of the gifted Annie Dean, and 
 there were times when the listeners must have lost 
 sight of rector, pulpit, vestments, everything, in the 
 delightful sensations produced by the four- gifted 
 singers of this choir. Nor was this all the sensation 
 Sunday had to offer. If inside the chui-ch the ear 
 was charmed with lovely voices, outside, when the 
 congregation was dismissed, there was a feast for the 
 eyes in the lovely faces of the women, dressed in the 
 latest Parisian fashions. All the chui'ches were full 
 on a Sunday, and when the people streamed out, long, 
 stately lines of beauty passed through the central part 
 of the town ; and as we came to Pine Street we met 
 the major portion of St. George's congregation coming 
 up the street, and these intermingling with people 
 
206 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 from Christ's Church, made the streets glow with 
 delicate colours and that southern type of beauty that 
 made St. Louis famous long before the great War of 
 Secession. 
 
 Well do I remember one Sunday in 1860, when the 
 soft airs of an early spring wandered up from the 
 west, transforming the streets, the people, their looks, 
 their dress, while, bathed in limpid sunshine, the 
 brilliant procession from the churches filled the streets; 
 and from the throng of elegant women there came 
 now and again a passing whiff from the orange-groves 
 of Louisiana ; and from old family prayer-books with 
 golden clasps, saturated with the faint odour of old 
 rose-leaves, there emanated an overpowering sense of 
 the frailty of wealth, the inutility of fashion, the 
 fatality of beauty, which in some mysterious manner 
 came with a presentiment of languid decay and 
 predestined calamity. It was a delightful promenade 
 around a paradise of ease and contentment, where 
 luxurious growths hid the vapours of the volcano 
 under their feet. In what state of mind would aristo- 
 cratic St. Louis find itself in another year ? In the 
 meantime I saw and heard all I could without asking 
 any questions of anyone. 
 
 First, I had a deep desire to see the inside of that, 
 to me, solemn and mystical edifice that stands on 
 Ninth Street, near Washington Avenue. How many 
 times I had passed its great, bulky doors without 
 going in ! How calm and sleepy it stood in the hot 
 summer days, how dark and gloomy when the days 
 were cold and smoke hung over the town ; but my 
 souvenirs of old St. Louis are of warm, genial airs, 
 of long, dreamy springs and splendid autumns ; and 
 
ST. LOUIS: SOCIETY AND THE CHURCHES 207 
 
 amidst the tranquil hush of all that neighbourhood 
 the old Jesuit Church of St. Xavier stood like a block 
 removed from the Mexico of Montezuma, plunged in 
 the shadows of a mystical something which I could 
 not fathom. It had an aspect all its own. Beside it 
 all the other churches looked very modern and very 
 simple. It faced the street without any architectural 
 pretension, as if to say, " My power is within ; on my 
 facade is the alphabet; within you will find the 
 language, the music, the myrrh, and the mystery ! " 
 It had the quality and illusion of very old lace once 
 worn by grandees at great Courts, and handed doAvn 
 from princes to personalities, and from personalities 
 to humble priests. It was placid as a still, deep lake 
 shut in by mountains, and all about it there was an 
 air that seemed to say, '' Nothing matters ; the world 
 is a shadow." 
 
 The bells of St. Xavier sounded like no other bells 
 in old St. Louis. I could hear them distinctly where 
 we lived ; and I remember three, the far-reaching 
 boom of the deeper bell carrying with it a suggestion 
 of peremptory mournfulness, an impression of some- 
 thing fixed and permanent in a city of fleeting 
 illusions. 
 
 At last, one day early in that fatal year of 1861, I 
 was sauntering by the church when my attention was 
 directed to the crowds hurrying towards its doors. 
 All ages and conditions of people were represented 
 in the gathering, with hardly a glimmer of fashion 
 visible, the people mostly of the humbler classes, 
 emigrants from the old country, still moved by the 
 memories of tragic scenes, women in black, women 
 with pale, pinched faces, haunted yet by the hunger 
 
208 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 and the horror of the Irish famine, mounting the 
 church steps as if to a Calvary of devotion, all bodily 
 fatigue forgotten for the moment. Such were the 
 people I saw pouring through the doors of the leading 
 Jesuit Church of North America. I stood and gazed 
 at all these earnest, wistful faces, and half-an-hour 
 must have elapsed before the impulse seized me to 
 pass the threshold of the mysterious edifice and see 
 and hear for myself. I slipped in, holding my breath 
 for fear someone would ask me what I was doing 
 there, and I was gradually pushed forward by the 
 ever-increasing masses of worshippers until I stood 
 in a throng nearly halfway up the left aisle. Absent 
 were the tall, graceful lilies, the wandering whiffs 
 from pressed rose-leaves of the ultra-refined wor- 
 shippers of Trinity ; absent the conventional dignity 
 and pomp of wealth, and in their places appeared the 
 inviolable sorrows of deep and prolonged tribulation, 
 the voiceless gestures of the weary in exile, the sombre 
 hues, deepened by the pervading gloom of the massive 
 church, and the dusky faces of negro worshippers 
 scattered through the assembly like black beads on a 
 pall of mourning. 
 
 All the pews in the galleries and in the main body 
 of the church were filled, the aisles were filled, a 
 crowd stood packed under the choir. I felt as if some 
 unseen presence was about to descend on the altar, 
 and all at once I was startled by a peal from the organ 
 and choir, and a procession of priests entered the 
 chancel. 
 
 There was a maze of soft, flickering lights and 
 glistening vestments, and I thought of the contrast 
 between this and the scene of the camp-meeting ; and 
 
ST. LOUIS : SOCIETY AND THE CHURCHES 209 
 
 although Trinity Church was only two blocks distant, 
 what a contrast between the service there and this 
 ceremony at St. Xavier's ! I was in another world. 
 Here were symbolical mysteries, accompanied by 
 Mozart's music, with stately movements in harmony 
 with the beauty of the rhythmic sounds, and faces, 
 figm-es, colours, lights, glittering vestments, were 
 presently merged in a cloud of vapoury incense, rising 
 in puft's towards the galleries, descending slowly, 
 imperceptibly, until objects in front seemed enveloped 
 in a soft, transparent haze, out of which came strange 
 odours of the Orient, 
 
 A priest now mounted the steps to the pulpit, and 
 all eyes were riveted there. His hair was black, his 
 face very dark, his glance quick and magnetic, his 
 voice and message imperative. 
 
 Father Garache — for he was the preacher — was a man 
 who had something to say and knew how to express 
 himself. He seemed to eye everyone individually, 
 now to the right, now to the left, now straight before 
 him ; and the congregation, rapt in awe and fear, sat 
 rigid under his terrible denunciations of the wicked 
 and his fearful descriptions of Purgatory. 
 
 After that, when the preacher stepped down from 
 the pulpit, he looked like one returning from a long 
 and weary walk through a wilderness of tombs ; and 
 the music of the organ came as something magical to 
 invite the half -freed spirit back to the house of flesh 
 and a world of apparent realities. 
 
 Here I looked about me at the worshippers. In a 
 pew just beyond where I stood I thought I saw some- 
 one whose figure seemed uncomfortably familiar. 
 Could it be possible ? Yes, no — yes, it was he — the 
 
 v.s. p 
 
210 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 fat, round back and neck of Mr. O'Kieff, the class- 
 room teacher of Benton School, who had beaten me 
 on the hand with his ruler only two days before. 
 
 I pitied him ; for somehow he seemed even more 
 contrite and miserable than the poor women in black 
 sitting near him, weak and weary as they looked, and 
 I said to myself, " The next time he beats me on the 
 hand I shall think, ' I am happier than you, and I can 
 afford it.' " 
 
 There are persons who oppress the imagination with 
 a feeling of mortality at the very time when a sense 
 of immortality is supposed to dominate all the other 
 feelings. How heavy and material, I thought to my- 
 self, would poor O'Kieff's coffin be, and how light that 
 of the frail widow in mourning sitting next him. All 
 these humble women, pale, shrunken, filled with the 
 fire of devotion, they looked to me more than half 
 spirit ah'eady, only waiting the slightest breath to 
 waft them away, soul and body, to regions of eternal 
 repose ; and they gave to the church, the mass, the 
 symbols, the music, the assembly, the final gesture of 
 resignation when, at the supreme moment, there was a 
 sound of a mystic bell in the chancel ; then a rustling 
 of garments, as of innumerable wings settling down 
 to rest, and the whole concourse sank to the floor 
 on their knees. A tall priest stood up in front of 
 the altar with the Host held high before him ; an 
 immeasurable solemnity brooded over the multitude 
 of bowed heads, and there was a mingling of prayers 
 and pity and sorrow for dear ones left behind in the 
 old country, and the heart seemed to have reached 
 the nadir of worldly resignation. Again the bell 
 sounded ; and there arose all over the congregation, 
 
ST. LOUIS: SOCIETY AND THE CHURCHES 211 
 
 from the serried ranks of bent bodies, supplicating 
 whispers, ahnost inaudible, muffled sighs that might 
 have been groans but for the frail, faint voices 
 emitting them, and short, quick phrases, as if the 
 last scene had been reached, and the last shadow was 
 passing on the dial of time, and desire had become 
 futile and all action useless. 
 
 I know not how or why, but the sight of all these 
 people coming out of the church, down the steps — a 
 slow, mystical stream of human hopes, emotions, and 
 sorrows — affected me even more than anything I had 
 seen within. As I stood outside and watched the 
 descent of that throng, the sad expression on the 
 faces of many of the elderly people impressed me pro- 
 foundly. Attending mass at this church was indeed 
 a serious matter, and the majority would return to 
 humble homes where there would be souvenirs of the 
 old country, and sighs, and affectionate allusions to 
 the absent. 
 
 Little did I then dream that I should one day sing 
 my first solo before the public at high mass in the 
 choir of St. Xavier's I 
 
 p 2 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE GREAT FAIR 
 
 The memorable October of 1860 had arrived, the 
 forerunner of the fateful days of November : an Octo- 
 ber laden with the wild fragrance of Missouri fields, 
 with the last of the flowers of wood and prairie 
 scattered here and there, and ancient oaks and elms 
 guarding the high roads leading into the country. 
 And there were the peaceful farmhouses in the 
 environs of the city, lying embedded in foliage just 
 beginning to change from green into purple, and a 
 something in the air that was not spring and hardly 
 cool enough for autumn, yet, at the hour of noon, 
 radiant with a touch of summer, when everything 
 seemed wrapped for the moment in a dreamy languor, 
 with the wonderful agricultural fair-grounds resem- 
 bling one of Claude's most visionary landscapes. 
 
 Two things made the fair of this autumn stand 
 out detached from all the preceding ones : it was the 
 last gathering under the old political and social order, 
 and the Prince of Wales was coming to St. Louis with 
 the special purpose of seeing the immense amphi- 
 theatre and the far-famed trotting races. 
 
 I went with my father early on the morning of the 
 Prince's visit, and passing out beyond the city limits, 
 where the road was black with people, came to the 
 splendid expanse of sward and wood and placid waters 
 where we were soon swallowed up in the dense crowd 
 
THE GREAT FAIR 213 
 
 representing every trade and profession in the city and 
 State : farmers, jockeys, horse-dealers, cattle-breeders, 
 city merchants, officers, bishops. Southern planters, 
 gamblers, river captains, pilots ; and there were digni- 
 fied matrons attended by their beautiful daughters 
 who represented all the leading churches of the city, 
 each in charge of a booth where all sorts of fancy 
 articles were sold for the benefit of the different 
 charitable institutions. Such a sight could be 
 witnessed nowhere else in the world. 
 
 The Prince of Wales arrived on the grounds in a 
 carriage drawn by four black horses. In the same 
 carriage sat Lord Lyons, the British Ambassador, and 
 the Duke of Newcastle ; and as soon as the royal 
 party appeared in the crowd it was surrounded, or 
 rather mobbed, by a band of shouting boys w^ho 
 grasped the spokes of the wheels and helped the 
 carriage along. 
 
 The Prince looked serious and somewhat bored ; 
 and no wonder. Nevertheless, he was repaid for 
 having to pass through this mob when he took his 
 seat in the amphitheatre and where for more than 
 three hours he was entertained by a brilliant display 
 of trotting matches. Nowhere else had the royal 
 party witnessed such a concourse of people amidst 
 such surroundings. 
 
 While my father was greatly taken with the trotting 
 matches and the fine display of fat cattle, I was 
 interested in the crowd itself, the first real mob I 
 had ever seen. And what a mixture of sensations — 
 the struggling masses of people on the outside of 
 the amphitheatre, the gawks from the backwoods, 
 the heavy, listless gait of some, the quick, smart 
 
214 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 movements of others, the open-mouthed amazement, the 
 cynical cunning of the confidence men, the vendors of 
 drinks, the queer noises, the dust, the smell, the con- 
 fusion of aims, the clash of interests, the voices of 
 strange, wandering singers, the sound of guitars — so 
 sad, so serene in this bedlam of bewildering emotions 
 — the glimpse of the Chinese pagoda rising from the 
 centre of the arena like a pagan symbol in a feverish 
 dream, the shouts from a hundred thousand throats as 
 the trotting favourites measure noses in the last round 
 on the greatest day in the history of the fair ! 
 
 Who had time to think of the approaching elections, 
 the rumours of war ? 
 
 I returned home that evening moved by the simple 
 melody sung by the three young singers with their 
 guitars ; and all through the years that followed I 
 heard, and still hear, the words that seemed to be 
 born with the music : 
 
 ** Shall we never more behold thee, 
 Never hear thy gentle voice again ? 
 When the Spring-time comes, gentle Annie, 
 And the wild flowers are scattered o'er the plain." 
 
 A few weeks later the fair was forgotten in the 
 political excitement of the hour. Election day was 
 at hand. A new President was to be chosen. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE planters' HOUSE 
 
 The Planters' House ! What did it not represent 
 in the history of the Far West in the early days I To 
 me it was St. Louis itself. This famous hotel typified 
 life on the Mississippi, life on the prairies, life in the 
 cotton-fields, life in the cosmopolitan city. It stood 
 for wealth, fashion, adventure, ease, romance — all the 
 dreams of the new life of the Great West. It was the one 
 fixed point where people met to gossip, discuss politics, 
 and talk business. It was the universal rendezvous 
 for the Mississippi Valley, Here the North met the 
 South, the East met the West. It looked like nothing 
 else in the hotel world, but it always seemed to me it 
 was intended more for pilots, river-captains, romantic 
 explorers, far-seeing speculators, and daring gamblers. 
 
 It was here the goatee type was seen in all its 
 perfection. On some of the chins the tufts of hard, 
 pointed hair gave a corkscrew look to the dark faces, 
 which somehow harmonised well with the eternal 
 quaffing of mint -juleps, sherry-cobblers, and gin cock- 
 tails. 
 
 An hour spent in the Planters' House just before 
 the great election was an experience never to be 
 forgotten. All who did not want to shoot or be shot 
 steered a clear course in some other direction, for 
 here, in the bar and lobbies, were the true "fire- 
 eaters " to be met, and while some had already killed 
 their man, others were looking for a man to kill. 
 
216 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 The fire-eaters were of two kinds : those who said 
 little but did much, and those who drank much, talked 
 much, and brandished pistols freely. Besides these 
 there was an independent third party, namely, the 
 listeners. Those were the wise, silent ones. They 
 were, perhaps, the most interesting because they 
 were amusing. The wise, silent listener would be 
 smoking a big El Sol cigar, which gave him some- 
 thing to "chaw" on; and during the fearful oaths 
 and invectives poured forth by the fire-eater the 
 unfortunate victim would find his huge cigar not 
 only smoked but " chawed " down to the very stump. 
 Thus, without knowing it, he would be chewing and 
 smoking at the same time. How innocent and bland 
 he sometimes appeared while in the clutches of a 
 down-river bowie-knife man. The fire-eater could 
 hardly be mistaken for any other type. It was the 
 keen, glossy eye of a snake under strong, dark eye- 
 brows, sometimes thick and shaggy, sometimes thin 
 and arched ; and if the latter, the whole aspect of the 
 face was fashioned in harmony with the clear-cut eye- 
 brow, penetrating as a black steel point, above a 
 piercing black eye. A pair of such eyes, once fixed 
 on a lounger bent on keeping the peace, and his case 
 was settled. But the silent listener at once took 
 refuge behind a vocabulary of stock phrases. After a 
 few drinks the political desperado would feel himself 
 beginning to " b'ile over," and looked about him for 
 someone to blow ofi steam on. There would be the 
 man of peace at the bar who feels that one drink is 
 quite enough and wishes to take a seat in an arm-chair 
 or lean against the wall of the bar-room, take it easy, 
 and just look and listen ; but a fire-eater, just in from 
 
THE PLANTERS' HOUSE 217 
 
 the bloody borders of Kansas, has spotted him ; he 
 forces him to have another drinlc, and begins : 
 
 " Sorter dull in St. Louis ! I reckon things will 
 liven up by election day." 
 
 The silent man with a fixed vocabulary answers : 
 
 " I reckon they will." 
 
 " Looky heah," continues the desperado, placing a 
 hard, lanky hand on the shoulder of his victim, "I've 
 put daylight through more'n one Abolitionist out 
 there in Kansas, an* I'll be hanged if I don't do the 
 same for the fust man here who says he's a-goin' te 
 vote fer that miserable skunk Abe Lincoln." 
 
 " Yes, sah." 
 
 '* I reckon the Planters' House is all sound on the 
 Little Giant, good ole Steve Douglas." 
 
 " I reckon she air," 
 
 " Now you look like a fair, square, up and down 
 Douglas man, an' solid on the nigger question." 
 
 " I reckon I be." 
 
 " I kin pick out the skulkin' Yankee cowards in a 
 crowd any day ; ye kin tell 'em by their sleek ways 
 an' their innocent looks, eh ? " 
 
 "I reckon you can, sah." 
 
 At this juncture up stalks another fire-eater, eyes 
 glaring, hair long and loose, his big felt hat set 
 back on his head, and, fixing his ferret gaze on the 
 silent man, shouts : 
 
 " Hurrah fer Fremont ! I fit under John C. 
 Fremont ! You're a Fremont man, I know ye air, 
 and we're a-goin' t'elect him. Come on, have a drink 
 with me, gov'nah," and up he drags the wretched 
 victim to the crowded bar, and there, trembling like a 
 canary-bird in a cage between two rattlesnakes, the 
 
218 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 mau of peace and silence has just wit enough left to 
 answer with assumed assurance, " Yes, sah ; I reckon 
 ye're right, sah." 
 
 But the scene has not ended. 
 
 The Kansas fire-eater, who is now fairly on the 
 war-path and itching for a scalp, turns suddenly on 
 the man of peace and shouts : 
 
 " Looky heah, stranger, you told me just now you 
 was fer Douglas ! What do you mean by harrowin' 
 the feelin's of an honest man ? If there's anything I 
 despise worse'n a Yankee its a turn-coat. Yes, sir-ree, 
 a turn-coat ! Set there a-tellin' me how clean broke 
 up ye air on Steve Douglas, an' now ye're drinkin' 
 that stranger's whisky an' tellin' him ye're plumb 
 gone on Fremont I Is that there a fair fight ? " 
 
 By this time the silent man is saying his prayers, 
 also in silence — scared, white in the face, not knowing 
 what to do or what to say, afraid to move, his stock 
 phrases worse than puerile, with just life enough left 
 to hear his heart thumping and not enough strength 
 left in his arm to raise his glass to his lips. 
 
 " If I thought you was a turn-coat I tell ye what it 
 is, stranger, I'd let ye have this right through yer 
 gizzard," and out he whips a dirk, pointed and deadly, 
 a fearful gleam whirling in a circle as he brandishes 
 the cold steel over his head with a wicked twist of the 
 shoulder. 
 
 But the Fremont man, now beginning to feel the 
 whisky working, stands at the other side of the man 
 of silence. He, too, is armed, but with a revolver. 
 
 '' See here, pard ! " he cries, " suppose we fight it 
 out right now, an' let the gov'nah here hold the stakes, 
 as ye might say." 
 
THE PLANTERS' HOUSE 219 
 
 The gov'nali ? Good heavens I He moans the 
 wise, silent man, the innocent, neutral lamb, the 
 chewer of peaceful cuds and mumbler of joint- stock 
 plirases. 
 
 But listen. You can almost hear what he is 
 thinking. He is saying to himself, '' When rogues 
 fall out the honest come by their own ' ' ; and at the 
 first sign of hostilities down he dips and, like a yellow 
 dog, wriggles his way through the crowd to the door 
 and "slides out." 
 
 The bar-room, corridors, and halls are now filled 
 mth excited men under the influence of drink and 
 half wild with suppressed passion. Some, with blood- 
 shot eyes, pass in and out as if seeking someone to 
 devour ; the place begins to steam with the heat, and 
 to cool the heated blood more iced mint- juleps are 
 disposed of, and yet more, until heads begin to reel, 
 quarrels arise from mere nothings, and amidst a chorus 
 of howls and imprecations the Yankees, the " Dutch," 
 and sometimes the Irish are denounced as ''low white 
 trash," cowards, and traitors. 
 
 In such crowds, about that time, might have been 
 seen the auctioneer of human flesh, the professional 
 slave-seller, the boldest, most abandoned of them all, 
 because the law was on his side. Erebus had spewed 
 him up from the nethermost corners — a pollution to 
 the polluted, a creature without wit, humour, or feel- 
 ing ; a menace to civilisation and a curse to patriotism. 
 
 The Planters' House was the magnet-stone that 
 attracted not only the country " moss-backs," but the 
 city millionaire, the poor man out of work and the 
 busy man with too much work ; and here, with the 
 others, came Captain U. S. Grant, plain, unassuming 
 
220 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 Mr. Grant, as he was usually called, and if not tlie 
 plainest man hereabouts, certainly one of the most 
 discouraged and disappointed. He was often to be 
 seen lounging about the public rooms waiting for 
 something to turn up. The future commander-in- 
 chief of the Army belonged to the silent ones, but one 
 whose wits had been sharpened by a vast worldly 
 experience and profound knowledge of human nature, 
 and his silence was not a sign of lethargy and stupidity, 
 but of knowledge and wisdom. I can see him now, 
 sitting in an arm-chair, smoking an El Sol cigar and 
 waiting with an air of extreme patience and resigna- 
 tion. But waiting for what ? Did he himself know ? 
 "Why was he in St. Louis at all, since everything he 
 attempted proved a business failure, from hauling 
 cord-wood into town from the log-house he had built 
 for his family out on the Gravois Eoad and selling it, 
 one load at a time, to the opening of a real estate 
 office for the buying and letting of houses ? Every- 
 thing he now touched failed; and yet, when the 
 critical hour arrived, this plain, silent man, this 
 business failure, would be on hand to offer his services 
 to General Lyon at the United States Arsenal. 
 
 My father often talked with Mr. Grant about the 
 price of town lots and the rent of certain houses. 
 
 Captain Grant had been all through the Mexican 
 War, and had served nine years in the United States 
 Army, and had seen service in California. He had 
 seen life as few had seen it, yet there he was, one of 
 the most discouraged men to be met with anywhere in 
 the Mississippi Valley. 
 
 How different the visits to the Planters' House 
 of Major W. T. Sherman ! When this future 
 
THE PLANTERS' HOUSE 221 
 
 commander-in-chief came it was not to lounge about, 
 for he was too busy. He too had seen service in 
 California. He declared lie had come to settle down 
 in St. Louis as an ordinary business man. Major 
 Sherman lived only four blocks from us, on Locust 
 Street, and Willie Sherman I knew very well. 
 
 Whenever I wanted something like an excursion I 
 would take a ride on a Fifth Street car and go for 
 miles in a northerly or southerly direction. Major 
 Sherman, as President of the Fifth Street car line, 
 was often to be seen going to his office in North St. 
 Louis in one of these cars. One day three future 
 generals happened to be riding in the same car 
 together — Grant, the hero of Yicksburg ; Sherman, of 
 the great march through Georgia ; and Grierson, of the 
 famous raid through Mississippi. 
 
CHAPTEE XX 
 
 THE TORCH-LIGHT PROCESSION 
 
 The last torch-light procession in St. Louis, before 
 the presidential election, was forming and about to 
 begin its long march through the principal avenues 
 and streets. Fremont, Douglas, and Abraham Lincoln 
 were among the number of aspirants to the Presidency. 
 I remember it as occurring just before the sixth of 
 November, the great day of decision, the flames from 
 thousands of torches lending a glow of warmth to 
 the chill feeling in the autumn air. My father, being 
 a Lincoln enthusiast, was hard at work winning 
 adherents to the Eepublican cause. None but the 
 women and children were idle, and all took sides. 
 
 My impression of this winding file of men was that 
 it had entered the city from some strange, distant 
 country — that it had, in some way, come up from the 
 river, and that the host of men with torches were 
 bringing with them an element of bitter strife, of 
 combat, final and fatal. I stood in the dense crowd 
 on the side-walk, and as the followers of the different 
 candidates passed with their various emblems I was 
 struck with the difference between the Lincoln men 
 and the others. About the latter there was something 
 spasmodic, excitable, almost hysterical, the weakness 
 of theii' favourites coming out in their own shouts and 
 actions, in the expression of the faces, in the hang-dog 
 look of the bodies ; and it was not surprising, for on 
 
THE TORCH-LIGHT PROCESSION 223 
 
 the part of Lincoln's opponents there was that huge 
 coil of the black serpent, Slavery, to drag with them, 
 and the effort was already plainly visible on every 
 face and every figure. Besides this, there was every 
 indication that many of Lincoln's opponents were 
 under the influence of drink, while the friends of the 
 Kail- Splitter walked with calm bodies and cool heads, 
 shouting with a will, fixed, determined, with the 
 consciousness of power and pre-ordained victory. 
 
 On it went, winding, winding, in and out, the 
 flickering lights passing like a fiery dragon as far as 
 one could see, the whole city receiving a symbolical 
 visitation by fire, a baptismal warning of what was 
 coming within the short space of a year from that 
 hour. 
 
 At last the day of election came and the city woke 
 in a sort of dream. People hardly knew what they 
 were doing: the tension of the past few weeks had 
 been more than many could bear. Thousands walked 
 to the poll in a half-dazed condition, with barely 
 sufficient will power to cast a vote. Haggard faces 
 were to be seen, men who had not slept soundly for 
 weeks ; for the triumph of the Abolition Party, the 
 election of Abraham Lincoln, meant the freeing of 
 the slaves and the ruin of thousands of slave- owners. 
 
 The seventh of November arrived, heavy with 
 fatality ; there were rumours, impossible rumours, 
 that the tall, gaunt Eail-Splitter up there at Spring- 
 field, Illinois, was elected. Yet none but the 
 Eepublicans dared believe it. The thing sounded too 
 much like the closing of a period, the passing of a 
 cycle, the winding-up of an age of dreaming. 
 
 The eighth of November arrived, and the dreadful 
 
224 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 rumours were repeated, this time louder, with more 
 persistency, with something depressing added to fear ; 
 but when the ninth was ushered in and the rumours 
 were turning to acclamations of victory, a feeling of 
 consternation took possession of all who owned slaves. 
 
 What to do? The question was asked on either 
 side; but there was no immediate solution of a 
 difficulty so unheard-of, so unique. Wait and see 
 what the Eepublicans will do when their idol, 
 Abraham Lincoln, is inaugurated as President on 
 the fourth of March next. 
 
 In April of the next year, 1861, about a month 
 after Lincoln had entered the White House at 
 Washington, I was sitting at my desk in the Benton 
 School. The windows were open and I noticed a 
 strange flag fluttering about in a yard below. 
 Presently, up went the flag to the top of a pole, 
 high enough to be seen by people in the street. 
 It was the first display in St. Louis of a Secession 
 Flag. 
 
 During the raising of this flag Mr. Gilfillen, the 
 principal of Benton School, was nervous and angry ; 
 he walked about the room darting fierce looks at 
 certain of the pupils. The burly O'Kieff, in his class- 
 room, at the recital of lessons, gave us extra hard 
 beatings with his ruler. 
 
 When I left the school-house I met excited groups 
 of men discussing the significance of the hoisting of 
 such a flag. Everyone looked anxious and worried ; 
 things were coming to a head — thunder-clouds were 
 gathering ; but the lightning was reserved for the 
 tenth of May. 
 
 At this time we were living on Pine and Ninth 
 
THE TORCH-LIGHT PROCESSION 225 
 
 Streets, in the heart of the *' fire-eating " district, 
 only three blocks fi'om the headquarters of the Rebel 
 Club, which was also on Pine Street. 
 
 Up to the present things were going on in the 
 usual way, and to the eyes of a stranger St. Louis, 
 which was even at this time the storm-centre of the 
 War, wore its habitual, sleepy aspect, more sleepy 
 during the warm spring months, perhaps, than at any 
 other time of the year — at least, it always seemed so to 
 me ; and while a few far-seeing men, like Grant and 
 Sherman, could see the storm coming, many of the 
 Southern people, especially the young men, looked at 
 the situation much as they would at a trotting match 
 at the fair grounds — the blue ribbon would be carried 
 off by a racer from Kentucky. Others thought there 
 would be a short tussle with a few Northern AboK- 
 tionists, when things would settle down again in the 
 old way ; no matter what happened, the courage — 
 both moral and physical — would all be on the side of 
 the South. It was not conceivable that a Government 
 headed by Lincoln could fight anyone or anything. 
 
 Some days passed. With the taking of Fort 
 Sumter by the rebels at Charlestown, South Carolina, 
 President Lincoln called for volunteers to put down 
 the rebellion. Five regiments, composed mainly of 
 German citizens of St. Louis, were soon got together and 
 were to be seen marching towards the National Arsenal 
 in the southern part of the city. Could it be possible ? 
 Were these foreigners taking sides with the North 1 
 Were these shuffling, heavy, stupid-looking men, 
 incapable of marching in order, setting out to fight 
 someone ? People in the streets looked on amazed 
 Even the fi'iends of the North could hardly believe 
 y.s. Q 
 
226 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 their eyes. As for the Southerners who saw the 
 queer regiments pass, jeers and jokes greeted the 
 "Hessians," as these Germans were called; and the 
 word " Hessian " became from that day a word of 
 contempt among Southern people in St. Louis. 
 
 These troops did not march so much as shuffle along ; 
 and I can see them now, for never since that time 
 have I seen troops in any part of the world at all like 
 them. I was instantly struck by the look of detach- 
 ment on their faces, the machine-like movements of 
 their bodies, the long, shuffling, dogged step, and, 
 somehow, I thought they looked hungry withal, and 
 perhaps they were, and I received an impression as of 
 a quick impact of something silently fatal, bewildering, 
 crushed, ghastly. Were these Germans stoics 1 Or 
 were they what they looked, simply apathetic 1 Were 
 they hiding their feelings under a mask of indifference, 
 or were they simply human automatons ? Mystery. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 CAMP JACKSON 
 
 What a day for the young bloods of St. Louis ! 
 We stood on Twelfth Street and watched the gathering 
 of the aristocratic clans, so to speak — the sons of 
 wealthy Southern families, Secessionists and rebels, 
 even now, forming in line here, Monday, the sixth of 
 May, by order of the Governor of the State. Many of 
 them I knew personally ; some of them were members 
 of Bible-classes at the different Sunday schools I 
 attended; and I noticed in particular young Hutchinson, 
 the son of the rector of Trinity Church. 
 
 All the different companies were here, some of them 
 in handsome uniforms ; but the brilliant appearance 
 of the Dragoons put every other company in the shade. 
 Could anything equal this gathering for harmony of 
 colour, the beauty of youth, aristocratic breeding, 
 clannish pride, courage, audacity, contempt of the 
 northern Abolitionist ? Out they marched, in regular 
 order, headed by military music, to Camp Jackson, 
 where, by Governor Jackson's command, the " boys " 
 were to pitch their tents and engage in drill for a 
 short season. In other words, they were to prepare 
 to defend the State against any attack of Lincoln's 
 volunteers. Open secession was freely talked of, and 
 the Hessians and the Yankees were to be annihilated 
 at the mere sight of such an imposing array of blood, 
 colour, and military tactics. 
 
 Q 2 
 
228 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 The camp was pitched in Lindell Grove, just outside 
 the city, a place I knew well as a picnic ground for 
 Sunday-school gatherings in summer time. Here, all 
 was forgotten save youthful vanity, impossible ambi- 
 tions, flirtation ; and life, as it looked in this fashion- 
 able rendezvous, was something worth living, The 
 ladies came in hundreds, to see or to be seen, and 
 every tent was well supplied with all the delicacies of 
 the season. War, if there was to be a war, would be 
 a splendid pageant, headed by a military band, and 
 the members of Company A, the "Washington Guards, 
 the Missouri Guards, the Laclede Guards, and the 
 others, would only have to show themselves to make 
 the weak-kneed Hessians and Negro-worshippers turn 
 and run for their lives. 
 
 The greatest national tragedies have always begun 
 by a comedy. And this comedy went on exactly four 
 days. On the 9th of May crowds visited the United 
 States arsenal, in the southern part of the town, where 
 General Lyon was hastily getting his German regi- 
 ments in order, and where we met Major Sherman, 
 who had come down on a Fifth Street car with his two 
 boys to see what was going on. In his Memoirs 
 General Sherman says : 
 
 " Within the Arsenal wall four regiments of Horse 
 Guards were drawn up in parallel lines, and I saw 
 men distributing cartridges to the boxes. I saw 
 General Lyon running about with his hair in the 
 wind and his pockets full of papers, wild and irregular ; 
 but I knew him to be a man of vehement purpose and 
 determined action. I saw, of course, that it meant 
 business, but whether for defence or offence I did not 
 know. The next morning I went up to the railroad 
 
CAMP JACKSON 229 
 
 office in Bremen, as usual, and heard at every comer 
 of the streets that the " Dutch " were moving on 
 Camp Jackson. People were barricading their houses. 
 I hurried through my business as quickly as I could 
 and got back to my house on Locust Street by twelve 
 o'clock." 
 
 By the time Major Sherman got home, General 
 Lyon, with his Hessians, was at Camp Jackson. 
 
 On that morning, the 10th of May, my father, who 
 had gone out very early, came home with alarming 
 rumours. Our house, he said, was situated right in 
 the midst of the danger zone. "We were likely to 
 catch anything flying about in the shape of bullets, 
 and he had heard that General Lyon was about to 
 order his five German regiments up from the Arsenal 
 to Camp Jackson, and in all probability they would 
 march past our house. The only safe place in our 
 house — which was a " frame " one — would be in the 
 basement, the walls there being of brick ; and here we 
 were ready to go at the first sign of danger. Half an 
 hour passed, then an hour, and still no sign of any- 
 thing unusual. Never had the streets seemed more 
 tranquil. "While one member of the family was on 
 the portico looking down Pine Street, I was on the 
 watch looking down Ninth Street. All of a sudden, 
 without so much as the beating of a drum, without 
 the slightest noise, except for the shuffling of so many 
 big, heavy feet, General Lyon made his appearance at 
 the corner of Ninth and Chestnut Streets, just one 
 block away, riding at the head of a drove of Hessians — 
 for they seemed like so many cattle to me, with, no 
 doubt, some wild bulls among them capable of causing 
 a stampede, no one knew what, all the more menacing 
 
230 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 because so awkward — and, turning the corner, faced 
 straight up Ninth Street. They would pass our house. 
 I gave the alarm, and down came every member of 
 the family into the basement, when the thick outside 
 shutters were closed for fear of bullets. There was a 
 wide crack in one of the shutters, and through this I 
 got a good look at the queerest body of soldiers I ever 
 saw. On they came, shambling up Ninth Street until 
 General Lyon came to Pine Street, when, at the 
 corner of our house, he turned his men up Pine Street 
 in the direction of Camp Jackson ; and hardly had he 
 done so when crack ! crack ! went rifle shots, and we 
 all dipped bodies, squatting in the corners. On they 
 came, regiment after regiment ; it seemed as if they 
 would never cease passing. At last, peeping out, I 
 saw the end of the long, shambling line, dragging its 
 dogged length off towards the country. 
 
 Out flocked the people into Pine Street. Two 
 bullets had struck our house, and just outside a German 
 soldier was sitting on the side walk with his back to 
 the wall. Coming closer we could distinguish where 
 the Mini^ bidlet had penetrated his temple. He was 
 dead. Close by a servant with a pail of water was 
 washing a stream of blood ofi the side-walk where 
 someone had been killed, and the sight to me was 
 indescribably horrible. My father said this was civil 
 war. We walked on down Pine Street, and at Seventh 
 Street we went over into Olive Street, and then, seeing 
 a crowd, we came to the fruit stand of some Italians. 
 The dead body of the proprietor had just been carried 
 in, and loud wails arose from the wife and children, 
 so suddenly plunged into mourning. All along the 
 line of march there had been firing, both from the 
 
CAMP JACKSON 281 
 
 ranks of the German volunteers and from individual 
 Rebels ; these latter fired into the ranks of the 
 soldiers while hidden behind church pillars or from 
 windows. 
 
 Meanwhile, on the Germans trudged to Camp 
 Jackson, spreading consternation among the people 
 eveiy where en route ^ while the fashionable throng in 
 Lindell Grove preened their beautiful feathers, like 
 so many birds of paradise in a Garden of Eden. 
 
 All at once a rider on a swift horse announced the 
 words, " The Hessians ! The Hessians ! " 
 
 "Was it, then, nothing but a dream ? Could it be 
 possible that the Yankee General Lyons, a nobody 
 from the Government Arsenal, was tramping up the 
 bend in the road, and in another moment would be 
 descending towards the Grove, with other troops 
 arriving exactly on time by another road, hemming in 
 the whole camp, the gaily-dressed crowd, the sight- 
 seers ! 
 
 The streets in town being free of soldiers, we went 
 up Locust Street, where we saw Major Sherman, with 
 his son Willie, walking up and down before his house, 
 talking to the neighbours, and '' listening for the 
 sound of musketry and cannon in the direction of the 
 Camp." 
 
 Major Sherman walked over to Olive Street, beyond 
 Twelfth, and there saw a man running from Camp 
 Jackson, shouting as he ran, " They've surrendered ! 
 They've surrendered ! " 
 
 With this news Major Sherman went with his son 
 as fast as he could to the Camp, while I returned with 
 my father to our house, where developments were 
 awaited with the greatest anxiety. At the Camp 
 
232 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 Major Sherman and his boy just escaped being killed 
 by throwing themselves on the ground, and several 
 men, women, and children lost their lives in a wild 
 fusillade, owing to the irresponsible actions of a 
 drunken man who had nothing to do with the soldiers 
 of either side. 
 
 At last we heard the cry, " Here they come ! " The 
 bitter hour had arrived. From Twelfth Street they 
 were marching down Pine Street past our house. The 
 different companies of gay and sanguine young Eebels, 
 now prisoners of war, came marching down between 
 files of the hated and despised Hessians on their way 
 to the Arsenal, right through the heart of the city. 
 Every window on Pine Street was filled with spectators 
 — mothers, sisters, wives — for the men were elsewhere. 
 Imprecations were showered on the " Dutch," hand- 
 kerchiefs were waved in honour of the prisoners, and 
 when they passed our house we saw young Hutchinson 
 among the number. 
 
 They put on a bold front ; they were not of the kind 
 to let an incident like this discourage them ; for, after 
 all, they proved themselves made of sterner stuff, 
 and hardly one there but would turn up later in the 
 Eebel ranks on the bloody fields of Tennessee and 
 Mississippi. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 GENERAL FREMONT 
 
 In the summer of 1861 I acted as page to General 
 Fremont, who had succeeded General Harney as 
 militaiy commander in St. Louis, and who occupied 
 Major Brant's new mansion on Chouteau Avenue, 
 where he had his headquarters. I wore a dark blue 
 uniform, and my duties consisted in carrying letters, 
 dispatches, etc., from General Fremont to officers in 
 other parts of the house. I saw people of all con- 
 ditions trying in every way to obtain an interview 
 with the General. One day, on entering the com- 
 mander's room, I was surprised to see two foreign 
 officers seated in front of his table. I took them to 
 be Germans. They wore striking uniforms ; and the 
 comedy of the whole thing became apparent when 
 people learnt that General Fremont had invited them 
 to accompany him home from Europe to give the 
 officers of his army some idea of military tone 
 and style. The leading citizens were indignant. 
 They could not understand such a whim on the 
 part of a democratic leader at a time when action 
 and courage meant everything, personal appearance 
 nothing. 
 
 General Sherman, in his Memoirs^ says : 
 '' McClellan and Fremont were the two men toward 
 whom the country looked as the great Union leaders, 
 and towards them were streaming the newly-raised 
 
234 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 regiments of infantry and cavalry, and batteries of 
 artillery." 
 
 When General Sherman came to St. Louis to see 
 Fremont on urgent business connected with the war, 
 Sherman stopped at the Planters' House, and meeting 
 Mr. R. M. Renick, inquired where he could find 
 General Fremont. Mr. Renick said: "What do you 
 want with General Fremont? You don't suppose he 
 will see such as you ? " Then he explained that 
 '' Fremont was a great potentate, surrounded by 
 sentries and guards ; that he had a more showy court 
 than any real king ; that he kept senators, governors, 
 and the first citizens dancing attendance for days and 
 weeks before granting an audience," etc. 
 
 Callers came by scores, among them several old 
 scouts and pioneers who had accompanied Fremont on 
 his Western exploits. I was far more interested in 
 these men than I was in the General himself, for they 
 recounted the whole history of Fremont's disastrous 
 expedition from St. Louis to California in 1848. One 
 day several of these men appeared, and the oldest asked 
 to see the General. They were old friends, they said, 
 and expected to be admitted to his presence without 
 any trouble ; but they waited a long time, returning 
 day after day, and for weeks I saw them sauntering 
 along Fourth Street, hanging about the Planters' 
 House, where they told stories of their thrilling 
 adventures among the Indians. I saw much of these 
 men and others in later years, during my sojourns in 
 New Mexico, Arizona, and Utah, who had been with 
 Fremont on his exploring expeditions, and I always 
 listened with deep interest to all I could hear about 
 the wild West of the 'forties and 'fifties. 
 
GENERAL FREMONT 285 
 
 Fremont left the Missouri River in October, 1848, 
 on his fourth expedition to California. He was then 
 thirty-six years of age. His aim was to make for the 
 Rio Grande, and from that wild region find a pass 
 through the Rocky Mountains. The route to the 
 Pacific Coast had never been explored, and Colonel 
 Fremont (as he then was) had no aid from the 
 Government, as in former adventures. He picked 
 out thirty-three men — hunters, scouts, muleteers, inter- 
 preters, half-breeds, and some Indians, well tried by 
 him in his former travels through the deserts and 
 mountains. He had to pick out and test, before buy- 
 ing them, a hundred and twenty mules. Then he had 
 to look to the selection of fire-arms, ammunition, 
 bacon, corn-meal, coffee, sugar, blankets and buffalo 
 robes, fur wraps, besides coloui-ed blankets, beads, 
 and paint as presents to placate the Indians and gain 
 theii' friendship. Much was needed before they 
 reached the Great Divide and the region of snows. 
 They were making straight for the hunting-grounds 
 of the man-slaying Apaches and Comanches, the 
 crafty Kioways, the fierce Utahs and Ai'apahoes, the 
 Navahoes, and other tribes roaming the plains and 
 hills at that particular season. 
 
 There were the Sioux and the Omahas, who might 
 be met with, either on the war-path or on some hunt- 
 ing expedition. 
 
 They followed along up the Kansas River, and soon 
 began to see signs of that moving life that made the 
 prairies of the Kansas region the happy hunting- 
 grounds of the Far West of those early days. 
 
 Colonel Fremont now sent on a small band of scouts 
 twelve houi's in advance of his company. The scouts 
 
236 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 were sent out with the fleetest horses and were on the 
 lookout for Indians. They came to a place where it 
 looked as if the country was dotted with sage-brush, 
 but as they proceeded they discovered buffalo instead 
 of sage-brush. The animals were moving slowly 
 down from the north, a wilderness of black forms. 
 
 They could not discover through a spy-glass any 
 end to the herd. At times small, compact groups 
 grazed together ; then the animals became more 
 scattered, but there was always an unbroken line 
 somewhere visible. In an hour's time the herd 
 became thicker, and they soon began to traverse the 
 main portion. The earth was now black with buffalo, 
 and the aspect of the moving animals began to look 
 dangerous ; the scouts feared a stampede, surrounded 
 as they were on all sides with savage-looking beasts. 
 The number was computed at many hundreds of 
 thousands. 
 
 The party moved with caution, not intending to do 
 any killing till they got to the edge of the herd. 
 Suddenly a commotion was visible among the animals 
 where there was a slight rise in the prairie. At that 
 point they were on the gallop, while a mile or two 
 away the herd was stampeding. The Indians had 
 arrived. The scouts stopped and made ready. Two 
 dangers faced them : the stampede and the savage 
 Sioux, now galloping their horses alongside of the 
 finest bison and pouring their arrows into the flying 
 bulls. Ko one seemed to know from what direction 
 the Indians had arrived, but just at that spot there 
 was a break in the herd which left an open space 
 through which the Sioux made the attack. They 
 had, no doubt, been waiting in hiding somewhere 
 
GENERAL FREMONT 287 
 
 on the prairie. They were killing for winter supplies, 
 both for meat and buffalo robes, and at first they 
 were probably too much concerned with the hunt 
 to trouble themselves about the white men. Part 
 of the main herd was making straight for the scouts 
 while another portion had headed off to the left, and 
 yet a third broke in an easterly direction, and the 
 whites were at a loss to find a reason for so curious 
 a thing among the buffalo, when to their amazement 
 they saw what they understood to be a second band 
 of Indians coming, as it were, out of the ground. 
 This band separated into two parts, their aim being to 
 drive the buffalo in a given direction. The scouts 
 proclaimed them Comanches, as these rode Mexican 
 mustangs and had the crafty art of creeping along, 
 hiding behind their animals or low bushes or slight 
 elevations of the ground and then suddenly making 
 their presence both seen and felt. 
 
 It looked now as if the Indians of both bands and 
 the stampeding buffalo would sweep down and 
 suiTOund the scouting party. All they could do was 
 to wait, all eyes fixed on the mancEUvres of the 
 Indians. The buffalo that had been divided and 
 scattered by the Comanches, were running helter- 
 skelter in three divisions, chased by the fleetest and 
 most cunning of the bands, uttering a quick, sharp 
 yell. By this time the buffalo everywhere had caught 
 the panic. All raised their heads and started on the 
 run, followed by the animals coming doTvn in the 
 main stream from where the Comanches began the 
 chase. 
 
 A small band of Comanches had now to deal with 
 two bulls, probably infuriated by arrows. They had 
 
238 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 turned on their pursuers and were charging among 
 them, and while this was going on, the Sioux had 
 approached the scouting party on the other side, the 
 buffalo fleeing before them in another stream. The 
 time had come for the Indians to stop the chase and 
 attend to the white men. 
 
 The whole scene had taken but a short time, hardly 
 long enough for anyone to realise fully what was 
 happening. 
 
 The scattered Comanches assembled in one group 
 for a pow-wow. The Sioux, on their side, had never 
 scattered, but had come to a stand, leaving a large 
 number of dead buffalo strewn along the line of chase. 
 One of the scouts, called Lame- Bear, a renegade 
 Comanche spy, who knew a little Spanish and some 
 English, now gave his opinion of the situation by 
 signs and words as follows : Both bands of Indians 
 had come out on a hunting expedition as well as for 
 adventure ; they had met here by chance ; but the 
 Comanches, still more cunning than the Sioux, when 
 they discovered the white men, formed a plan to 
 stampede the buffalo. In the confusion they would 
 attack the white men, but the superior numbers of the 
 Sioux caused them to change their plan. Now they 
 were holding a council of war ; in another moment 
 the whole thing would be decided ; there would be a 
 " lifting of scalps." 
 
 Lame-Bear had hardly spoken the last word when 
 the Comanches set out with a great war-whoop 
 straight for the Sioux, who were sitting as still as 
 stone images on their horses. The Comanches 
 swept on like demons, unconscious of their own 
 inferior numbers. 
 
GENEEAL FREMONT 239 
 
 " Look ! " cried Lame-Bear, " the buffaloes I " 
 It was a fresh stampede from the north. The 
 vacant space separating the Comanchcs and the 
 Sioux was threatened by this new mass of frightened 
 animals, coming down in a stream that would pass 
 right in front of the band of Sioux, driven, no doubt, 
 by another band farther north. Seeing this, the 
 intrepid Comanches redoubled their efforts to reach 
 their rivals, and at the moment the first buffalo 
 reached the line, a hail of arrows poured from the 
 two bands and several Comanches fell. In another 
 second a horse fell under a Sioux, then several 
 warriors. The space had now become fairly blocked 
 with buffalo, and, maddened by the smell of blood, 
 they bellowed and jumped about as they passed close 
 to the Sioux, who were now forced to desist, while the 
 Comanches, caught in the stampede, were compelled 
 to gallop along with the herd to escape destruction. 
 
 The scouts began to move on, when the Comanches 
 veered round to the south at a safe distance from their 
 guns. 
 
CHAPTEE XXIil 
 
 THE DANCE OF DEATH 
 
 After travelling between four and five hundred 
 miles out from the Missouri, Fremont's expedition 
 struck the pow-wow grounds on the Kansas Eiver, 
 the camping-place where the famous hunter and 
 scout, old Fitzpatrick, had in charge some thousands 
 of Indians. 
 
 At that time this scout was acting as Government 
 Indian Agent. His special business was to deal with 
 the savages in such a manner that they would, at 
 least for a time, leave the white emigrants unmolested 
 while on their way across the plains and mountains to 
 California. Fremont expected to meet here some 
 hundreds of Indians, mainly chiefs and leading 
 warriors, instead of which he encountered whole 
 tribes gathered from the far West, South, and South- 
 west. He calculated on staying here some little 
 time to find out aU he could, both from the whites 
 and the Indians, who would give him important 
 information and all the latest mountain news brought 
 in from scouts and hunters from the West. 
 
 Before the establishment of this agency, hundreds 
 of emigrants had been murdered and their scalps 
 taken ; but old Fitzpatrick, as cunning as any Apache, 
 knew all the weak and strong points of the Indians, 
 and could pacify them at small cost either to himself 
 or the Government. He knew the magic power 
 
THE DANCE OF DEATH 241 
 
 residing in coloured beads, red and yellow blankets, 
 paint, and such like trifles, when dealing with them. 
 Yet, in spite of all this, the Indians were fooling 
 him. 
 
 Whole tribes of sleek, well-fed savages, arrayed in 
 feathers, brilliant blankets, paint and all the fineiy 
 of needlework and fantastic neck and head-gear, 
 greeted Colonel Fremont's arrival, gazing in grim 
 silence and weird dignity at the white men, their 
 mules and their weapons. There were one or two 
 tribes new to Fremont's scouts. There was old Flying- 
 Horse, chief of an intrepid band of Southern Apaches, 
 with a great flight of eagle feathers pointing outward 
 from the crown of his long head to the nape of his 
 neck, a stripe of yellow paint running from his fore- 
 head right down across his nose, across his chin, and 
 down his breast ; and two Indians of greater import- 
 ance than any of the chiefs : the much-dreaded Arappa- 
 Honta, grand enchanter of the Navahoes, and Umbaha- 
 Tan, a great medicine-man and ''weaver of spells" of 
 the Utahs. 
 
 Queer things were brewing. 
 
 That same evening Lame-Bear asked one of 
 Fremont's men to walk out with him where the others 
 could not hear what he had to say. "When they got 
 beyond the camp Lame-Bear began in a mixture of 
 Spanish and English : " You see that big Medicine, 
 Umbaha-Tan ? He is no friend of Chief Fremont ! 
 I have peeped in his wigwam, and know what he is 
 doing. He has made a ' bad fire ' in there ; to- 
 morrow he will begin his enchantments." 
 
 Here Lame-Bear began to turn round and round 
 in imitation of someone who was being dazed and 
 
 v.s. R 
 
242 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 mentally confused, dizzy in the head, not capable of 
 clear thinking. 
 
 " Is Umbaha-Tan working against one person or 
 against all our party ? " asked the scout. 
 
 " The whole party. All will feel his power." 
 
 " How is such a thing possible ? " 
 
 "Because the white men don't understand," he 
 said. 
 
 " What will Umbaha-Tan do to-night ? " asked the 
 scout. 
 
 Lame-Bear gave a slight twist of the head, and, 
 with an expression of weariness, said: "He will 
 perform the ban-ha-ha," which meant the overture to 
 the play, or the creation of the atmosphere. 
 
 The guide felt that any words or explanations 
 would be useless, that nothing could change the order 
 of Fate. He himself had his mind made up, and 
 knew precisely what to expect. 
 
 The moon rose and began to light the plains, and 
 the camp-fires blazed in the clear, still air ; and while 
 Fremont's men were smoking and resting the Indians 
 began to glide about, ghost-like, in the moonlight, by 
 ones and twos at first, coming and going for the most 
 part in absolute silence. Some of them were roasting 
 buffalo, which they did by making a big hole in the 
 ground and cooking the whole carcass, barbecue 
 fashion. 
 
 Old Fitzpatrick was asked if he did not think the 
 Indians in the camp were more sullen than usual, but 
 he only said : "I don't see as they act any different 
 from the real Simon-pure article " ; and then he went 
 on : " You know how Natur' turns 'em out, I reckon ; 
 Natur' manifactures 'em, but she don't finish 'em; when 
 
THE DANCE OF DEATH 243 
 
 she manifactures a white man she finishes him. An 
 Injin is finished when he hez a top-knot, an' he's 
 polished when he gets his war-paint on ; a white 
 man is polished jest as soon as he gets his face 
 washed." 
 
 Arappa-Honta, the enchanter, was receiving visitors 
 in his wigwam. He sat cross-legged, on thick 
 cushions of bear and buffalo skins, bolt upright, his 
 body quite still, partly wrapped in a robe of wild- 
 cat skins. The white visitors immediately became 
 conscious of something wonderful in the influence he 
 threw about him of length and distance. Everything 
 about his features was long and thin : long, narrow 
 head, rising far above his eyebrows; long, narrow 
 eyes, veiled and absent ; long, thin nose ; long, spare 
 jaws and chin; and a neck that might have grown 
 in a night, like a mushroom-stalk. The marvellous 
 head was capped with a circle of black feathers, and 
 from the centre of the crown rose three black 
 ostrich-feathers, which must have been brought from 
 St. Louis or Mexico, or stolen from emigrants. His 
 arms were covered with ornaments, while his face was 
 made still more extraordinary by being covered with 
 saffron paint; there was a black streak of paint 
 running from the top of the forehead, down the nose 
 to his bosom. These colours meant that he was 
 getting ready for business ; the days of idle dreaming 
 were past. 
 
 According to Lame-Bear, Arappa-Honta was getting 
 ready to travel, in spirit. 
 
 His body had something of the painted image about 
 it, so still and motionless. 
 
 An Indian, with something of the wild animal in 
 
 B 2 
 
244 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 his face, placed on the fire, whicli was burning in the 
 middle of the wigwam, some leaves that raised a thick 
 smoke. Arappa-Honta moved his head a little and 
 breathed deeply ; then he prepared his pipe, filled it 
 with some of the leaves and began to smoke. Several 
 of the Indians did the same, after which the white 
 visitors left the wigwam. Hearing muffled sounds 
 coming from the direction of Umbaha-Tan's lodge, 
 they went towards it. Indians were walking about 
 outside, listening ; there was not one who did not 
 know the secret meaning of the deep, drum-like 
 sounds coming from the weaver's tent. As the 
 Indians drew nearer they would stop, bow their heads 
 and listen, the same as if they had been white men 
 listening to the sound of earth falling on a coffin. 
 Indians of different tribes came and went, their eyes 
 glistening like black beads in the bright moonlight ; 
 they glided past like cats, and listened as if smitten 
 by some unknown power. They seemed to be 
 absent from the spot and enjoying something far 
 away. 
 
 Old Fitzpatrick was holding a confab with Colonel 
 Fremont in the commander's tent, with some other 
 scouts and guides, and already there were signs of 
 contradictory evidence and advice concerning the 
 route to be taken and attempts to be made to find 
 passes through the Eocky Mountains. 
 
 Up to this time Fremont had appeared pretty 
 confident of his ability to go straight through the 
 mountains without much loss of mules and with but 
 little danger to his men ; but now old Fitzpatrick told 
 one story, while the new arrivals from the West told 
 another. Fremont refused to take a decision, and said 
 
THE DANCE OF DEATH 245 
 
 he would wait a day or two, when fresh news might 
 arrive that would clear up certain doubtful points. 
 
 That night the whites lay awake listening to the low, 
 drum -like beatings in Umbaha-Tan's wigwam. Once 
 in a while the unusual notes of a flute-like instrument 
 could be heard coming from the direction of Arappa- 
 Honta's wigwam. These sounds only ceased with the 
 setting of the moon. Lame-Bear said he had a 
 presentiment of impending disaster, and he could see 
 the mountains loom like bastions in the blue distance; 
 bleak, barren, more immovable than the stars, inhos- 
 pitable as frozen tombs, inviting the last gasp in the 
 still, frozen air ; and some of the white men felt a 
 horrible attraction towards the desolate snow-covered 
 region of the Eockies. 
 
 The whole camp, white men and Indians, were up 
 early and stirring, some busy with one thing, some 
 with another, while in one of the tents a mail- carrier 
 from Taos, in New Mexico, was being awakened by 
 some of the men who had been deputed to watch him 
 and keep him from what the Indians call the death 
 sleep. He had ridden for some days and nights, 
 making a record journey, and had given strict orders 
 to have his sleep broken after a few hours, as the 
 Indians considered it fatal for a man in that condition 
 of fatigue to sleep twelve hours on a stretch. When 
 he got his eyes wide open he thought he was captured 
 by Indians and going to be bound to a tree and 
 tortured, and he began to shout and rave ; but they 
 finally brought him to by dashes of cold water over 
 his head and face. 
 
 The news he brought gave Fremont no information 
 that could be used to any advantage. 
 
246 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 Lame-Bear came about noon with the news that the 
 Indians were getting ready for a great dance. It was 
 being kept as secret as possible; but, even if the 
 secret leaked out, nothing could stop them, as the 
 dance was to appear like a festival of peace and 
 goodwill. 
 
 Early in the afternoon small bands of Indians began 
 to come in with the spoils of the buffalo hunts, and the 
 Comanches encountered on the plains arrived with 
 the scalps of the Sioux slain in the buffalo fight. 
 The sight of the fresh scalps, the plentiful supply of 
 buffalo and antelope meat, the perpetual noise of the 
 musical instruments of the different medicine-men, 
 kept the Indians at fever-heat, and for the rest 
 of the day painted faces became more and more 
 plentiful. 
 
 Huge barbecues for a buffalo-meat feast were in 
 preparation, and the chiefs became more independent 
 and haughty in demeanour. 
 
 About eleven o'clock that evening the Indians 
 emerged from their lodges by hundreds, making tracks 
 for the open prairie south of the camp. At the same 
 time the sound of Indian drums came from various 
 parts, increasing in force until the air vibrated with 
 the queer noises ; and the painted faces and arms of 
 many of the savages added something demoniacal to 
 the scene. 
 
 When questioned about it, old Fitzpatrick said it 
 meant a buffalo dance ; others thought it a dance in 
 honour of the moon ; others, again, declared it was a 
 dance in honour of Fremont, and this last explanation 
 was accepted by most of the white men. 
 
 Lame-Bear now said that several tribes would hold 
 
THE DANCE OF DEATH 247 
 
 dances in unity ; but the leaders would be the Utah 
 tribe, headed by Umbaha-Tan, and the Southern 
 Apaches, headed by old Arappa-Honta. All the pre- 
 parations had been made beforehand, and things went 
 as by clockwork. Far out on the plains a long row of 
 flickering lights could be seen. At last the Indians 
 arrived at the dancing-grounds, carrying small torches 
 made of pine knots, and gathered in a huge circle, 
 without noise or confusion, as if each Indian had 
 rehearsed the scene scores of times, and knew the 
 exact position to take. 
 
 There was a signal ; the whole crowd, to the 
 number of thousands, squatted on the ground, all 
 decorated in their best colours, the flaming reds of the 
 blankets becoming visible in the glow of the torches, 
 with the bright yellows gleaming among the crowd out 
 in the clear moonlight. On either side, through the 
 mass of squatting Indians, there was space enough 
 for horses and files of dancers to pass. From beyond 
 the circle, on one side, there came two Indians 
 mounted on Mexican mustangs, with faces painted in 
 red stripes, meant to be taken as a symbol of peace to 
 the whites of the camp, but in reality to deceive. 
 They walked their horses round the circle once, and 
 passed out on the other side. Two more appeared, 
 with faces painted white and red, and made the cii'cuit. 
 Lame-Bear said it was meant as a warning to all the 
 Indians of the sort of thing they would witness, and 
 prepare them for the full display of the medicine- 
 men's power. These in turn were followed by a 
 group of four reed-blowers, with bodies half bare and 
 curiously painted. They were the musical charmers 
 who would put the crowd in the proper mood. The 
 
248 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 whistles produced a great and solemn change. Faces 
 became rapt with wondering awe as the group walked 
 round and round the ring. Other dancers entered, 
 followed by mounted Indians. A band of twenty 
 Utahs, disguised as wolves, appeared, and began to 
 crawl and jump as they slowly passed round. The 
 wolves snapped and growled as they approached a 
 figure seated alone on the rim of the charmed circle, 
 and when they arrived in front of the strange appari- 
 tion sitting robed in white and black, for it was the 
 great Medicine, Arappa-Honta, in a new dress, 
 resembling a demon in the midst of a wild beasts' 
 inferno, they halted in a line, squatted, and set up a 
 whimpering and whining which no white man could 
 imitate. This over, they rose and moved on, limping 
 in imitation of a wounded man or animal. When 
 halfway round the ring in strode an Indian of giant 
 frame encased in a full buffalo skin — horns, hide, and 
 tail, all complete ; swaying to and fro, he rolled along 
 till he got Iq front of the wolves, and then he began 
 such antics as would defy description, for it seemed 
 impossible for one man to carry such a weight and 
 perform such evolutions — such a rising and falling of 
 the body, such a limbering movement of legs and 
 head, and when he got as far as Arappa-Honta the 
 buffalo went on his knees before the great Medicine, 
 and with a smart toss of the woolly head struck the 
 ground with one of his horns. He rose from this 
 posture the moment Arappa-Honta touched the horns 
 with the tip of a long, slender reed ; but the buffalo 
 had hardly turned away before he was faced by all 
 the wolves in a line, moving towards him in perfect 
 order three steps forward, then one step in retreat, 
 
THE DANCE OF DEATH 249 
 
 repeating this again and again till they got to the 
 centre of the circle, all the animals keeping silent. 
 By the time the wolves reached the centre the state of 
 the crowd was such that the noise of a cannon let ofE 
 would not have caused an Indian to turn his head or 
 raise an eyebrow, for with every step forward and 
 backward it was seen that the charm, whatever it 
 might be, was working out without a hitch. All who 
 had eyes could understand for themselves. The 
 savages sat spellbound, seeing the tide rise and 
 recede, while the lone buffalo stood, his shaggy head 
 rolling from side to side, awaiting the inevitable 
 moment when the wolves would close in and surround 
 him. On they came, the tension of the spectators 
 becoming unendurable as the wolves took the last 
 three steps forward, halting, amidst a chorus of grunts 
 and growls, under the buffalo's nose ; but on the 
 instant six Indians on ponies came galloping down 
 to the circle, and, halting, sent a whirlwind of 
 arrows at the body of the buffalo. Every arrow 
 struck where it was aimed ; the beast fell, first on his 
 knees, then over on his side ; the Indians on horse- 
 back rode off, and at the same time the twenty wolves 
 formed in a ring around the prostrate buffalo, moving 
 in a circle, turning round and round, and by the time 
 they had all made the circuit a band of stalwart 
 Indians, encased in the skins of huge grizzlies, erect 
 on their hind legs, came wobbling and capering in. 
 All the drums began to beat, the reed- whistles made a 
 shi'ill, weird noise, and the big grizzlies, advancing, 
 erect, towards the immovable Arappa-Honta, the real 
 dance, the wonderful Indian ball, now began. 
 
 As the grizzlies turned their backs on Arappa-Honta 
 
250 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 they faced the wolves, arrayed in a line about fifty 
 feet away, and at once the grizzlies began to reel 
 like drunken men, while the wolves suddenly moved 
 forward a few paces, limping, snarling, and now and 
 then giving short jumps. 
 
 The big grizzlies now began a slow movement 
 towards the centre, and when about thirty feet apart 
 both lines halted. One of the wolves and one of the 
 largest of the grizzlies parted from the ranks, and 
 stepping forward to within a few feet of each other, a 
 duel of fantastic figures was set going. With this 
 signal a troop of thirty warriors in buffalo skins 
 entered at a brisk trot, and being welcomed by a 
 chorus of howls and savage grunts by all the animals 
 in the arena, a mad quadrille was inaugurated in 
 which all the buffaloes, wolves, and grizzlies joined, 
 each animal doing his best to escape from contact 
 with the others, twisting and evading, by frantic 
 contortions, the wolves, nimble as foxes, passing and 
 re-passing in and out of the whirling mass. 
 
 The actors had in a short time assumed a more 
 regular form of dancing, and the wolves were now 
 circulating among the bigger animals in a long ser- 
 pentine line that entered the crowd at a certain point 
 and progressed in, out, and around like a wriggling 
 snake ; and during the time this was going on a 
 marked change was visible on the faces of the on- 
 lookers. The Dance of Death had begun. All that 
 had gone before might be taken as overtures and intro- 
 ductions. This was the weaving, the maze of 
 bewilderment, chaos and destruction for the white 
 man. As the wolves wriggled in and out, the 
 buffaloes and grizzlies made desperate efforts to avoid 
 
THE DANCE OF DEATH 261 
 
 them, but in vain. No sooner did they succeed in 
 avoiding contact with the wolves on one side than 
 they were touched and pushed on the other by wolves 
 skipping and dodging back in a double circle. Quicker 
 and quicker they glided, sometimes on all fours, some- 
 times standing erect and leaping, for now a buffalo, 
 after wobbling and staggering and making every effort 
 to escape contact with the wolves, reeled and sank to 
 the ground ; a wolf leaped over the body, while 
 another, following, stood on the prostrate beast, 
 uttering unearthly yells. 
 
 It was the beginning of the end. Buffaloes and 
 grizzlies, all were reeling together in the maze of 
 death. Two grizzlies fell, and the same movements 
 were performed over their bodies. The nearer the 
 victims came to falling the faster and more furious did 
 the action become ; it was no longer a question of 
 avoiding the wolves, but simply a question of when 
 the tottering grizzlies and buffaloes would fall dead, 
 while Arappa-Honta sat pointing with his magic reed, 
 now at this animal, now at that. 
 
 Down they dropped, one by one, the sounds of the 
 victorious wolves becoming louder and more general. 
 Arappa-Honta rose, and, waving his wand over the 
 arena, a storm of grunts and fierce howls broke out 
 from the Indians and the wolves, now dancing a last 
 ronde over the bodies of the vanquished. 
 
CHAPTEE XXIV 
 
 IN THE MAZE 
 
 It was late in November when the expedition 
 reached the small settlement of Pueblo, on the upper 
 Arkansas Eiver, among the foot-hills of the Rockies. 
 Here Fremont took a fresh supply of provisions, and 
 meeting old Bill Williams, a mountain trapper, he 
 engaged him as guide. 
 
 It was not long before they came to the snow, and 
 Bill Williams hesitated. He was in doubt as to the 
 passes ; but Fremont forced his way on as though 
 possessed by a power he could not control. The 
 difficulties of the position seemed even now more 
 than Fremont and his party could overcome, and yet 
 they were only at the beginning. Most of the passes 
 were packed with snow, and it required ten days to 
 do what in summer-time would have taken two or 
 three. 
 
 They pressed on. A great fear was bearing down 
 on some of the men. The guide Williams hesitated 
 more and more, while Fremont, not daring to show 
 the slightest sign of discouragement, put on a bold 
 face. He dared not turn back. They were at the 
 threshold, so to speak, where they had plenty of time 
 to contemplate the frozen peaks and passes of desola- 
 tion, and not a white man, not an Indian, but held 
 his breath when they came to the awful ravine of 
 Eio del Norte. 
 
IN THE MAZE 253 
 
 They had arrived at what seemed the insur- 
 mountable barrier. Fremont looked at old Bill 
 Williams, but not a word was spoken. 'No one could 
 speak. What was the use ? How is a man to argue 
 with a chain of frozen rock thousands of feet high ? 
 
 Fremont took Williams aside, but no one knew 
 what was said during the talk. Williams dared not 
 admit he had blundered, and Fremont dared not turn 
 back, and he decided on the desperate attempt to pass 
 through the snow-packed ravines and dig upward 
 towards the backbone of the Rockies. All hands were 
 encouraged to make the attempt, and Fremont talked 
 to his men like a comrade. He worked as hard as 
 any, was firm yet kindly in his speech, but fixed on 
 impossible things. They could see how he was driven 
 on and on, against reason, against common-sense. 
 No one had any will except to push forward to the 
 heights of isolation. Attempt after attempt was 
 made, the men working like condemned prisoners, 
 making desperate efi"orts for freedom and life, against 
 a hundred odds, against Fate. They might have 
 battled with the snow to some good purpose, but now 
 they had arrived at the region of storms ; the wind 
 blew down from the summits, howled around the 
 crags and through the ravines. Not a man there had 
 ever seen such a winter. No sooner did one storm 
 cease than another set in from the north-east or north- 
 west. The mules, reduced in flesh and strength, 
 dropped off one after another, frozen in their tracks. 
 Still the men worked on as under some fatal spell. 
 
 A last attempt was made to reach the watershed. 
 The almost impossible task of stamping a path in the 
 snow was accomplished, and animals and men walked 
 
254 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 over this with extreme caution, exposed to the icy 
 winds, one mule after another falling, never to rise 
 again. They had reached, by a superhuman effort, the 
 storm-swept summit where the fierce winds kept the 
 ground bare of snow, and a little food could be found 
 for the cattle. Lower down all vegetation was hidden 
 under snow. 
 
 They were now face to face with the first great 
 calamity of the expedition, and all hope of saving the 
 mules was at an end. Fremont tried hard to look 
 cheerful, the guides pretended to be hopeful, but 
 all felt the first swift touch of death in the most 
 abandoned part of the "Western wilds ; all began a 
 secret and silent preparation for the last wrestle with 
 the grim and lonely conqueror. They were in the 
 first grip. Fremont mentioned the name of his old 
 friend and companion in adventure. Kit Carson, and 
 longed for his counsel ; but Carson was^living in Taos, 
 far away to the south. 
 
 They were now more than twelve thousand feet 
 above sea level, and all the mules frozen to death. 
 The first night in the high regions came with a clear 
 sky and a still atmosphere, with the thermometer 
 below zero. The stars looked like silver lamps floating 
 in the air not far above. The howling of hungry 
 wolves came to the ears of some of the men like 
 warnings and prophecies of impending calamities, and 
 kept several of them from sleeping, in spite of the 
 great fatigue they felt. In the morning one of the 
 half-breeds swore he had heard the tom-toms of the 
 medicine-men, and saw Arappa-Honta sitting in his 
 tent. Others declared they had heard queer sounds, 
 but the men were not certain whether they were awake 
 
IN THE MAZE 255 
 
 or dreaming at the time. The half-breeds became 
 apprehensive. They considered the expedition as 
 good as doomed, and called to mind the scenes and 
 rumours at the great dance. 
 
 Fremont now held a solemn counsel with King and 
 Preuss, two of his right-hand men, and it was decided 
 they should return to the Eio del Norte without delay. 
 
 As soon as they arrived at the Rio del Norte 
 Fremont called for volunteers to go to the settlements 
 for mules and provisions to enable the whole of the 
 party to push on to Taos. He picked out four men, 
 naming King as their commander, and the order was 
 to lose no time in sending back provisions to the camp, 
 as there was just enough food to last fourteen days at 
 a pinch. 
 
 When King left the camp it was like a party of 
 ghosts walking off in the desolate wastes in search of 
 a refuge. 
 
 The ordeal began from the very moment King and 
 his small party vanished from sight and left the larger 
 party on half rations, in weather that was arctic, every 
 day full of suspense, every hour heavy with fore- 
 boding. Hardly a night but what one or two of the 
 men heard, or thought they heard, the beating of tom- 
 toms, while in dreams they would see repeated certain 
 movements of the Dance of Death. 
 
 The nights became heavier, the days more weary. 
 On the fifth day after King's departure one of the men 
 was frozen stiff, and death entered the camp. It 
 snowed more or less every day. 
 
 Fremont was now all but panic-stricken, but he 
 maintained a stiff upper lip, and after waiting sixteen 
 days decided to set out for the settlements himself, 
 
256 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 with four new men. He now took it for granted that 
 King and his party had been killed by the Indians. 
 Fremont took his old friend, Preuss, with him, a little 
 food, and their blankets. His intention was to make 
 for a place on the Eed Eiver some miles north of Taos. 
 
 " Now men," he said, before starting, " if I am not 
 back here before your rations are out, or if you don't 
 hear from me by messenger, strike out for yourselves 
 and follow my trail." 
 
 The party left behind had only three meals for each 
 man, a little rum, and some sugar. 
 
 Fremont was not long away before he struck a fresh 
 Indian trail. He took this trail, which led in the 
 direction he wished to go. He marched on, and the 
 fifth day came across a lone Indian who was taking a 
 drink from a hole he had made in the ice. The Indian 
 happened to be the son of a Utah Chief and a friend 
 of Fremont's. The Indian became a guide to the 
 party, and furnished them with horses from the tribe 
 living close by, and the next day they all set off again 
 on the dreary march. 
 
 They had gone about six miles when Fremont 
 discovered some smoke in a small wood. His courage 
 rose, for now this must certainly be King and his 
 party. It was more than three weeks since they had 
 left the main camp. They hurried towards the spot ; 
 that smoke looked so comforting, there in that desert 
 of snow and ice, and it looked as if things would now 
 take a turn for the better. Fremont and his band 
 were soon in the wood face to face with three half- 
 starved men, half-crazed, and so changed he could 
 scarcely recognise them. They were not able to walk 
 One of them grinned like a bear at bay. Fremont 
 
IN THE MAZE 267 
 
 had hard work to got them to talk, but he kept on just 
 as one would with Indians or little children. They 
 had evidently killed a deer, and the bones were lying a 
 little way from the fire where the men were sitting. 
 
 " But where's King ? " Fremont asked several 
 times. 
 
 " Well, you see, King ain't here," stammered one 
 of the men, a little bolder than the others. 
 
 " I can see that," replied Fremont ; " I want to 
 know where he is, if you can tell me." 
 
 " Well," the man stammered, '' he wcis here ; that is, 
 he came here with us day before yesterday." 
 
 " Where did he go ? " 
 
 " He didn't go no-wheres." 
 
 A horrible grin distorted the features of the spokes- 
 man. 
 
 "You see, he give out when we got here; he 
 starved to death." 
 
 A fearful silence settled over the group. Fremont, 
 with a face as white as the snow, gazed in horror at 
 the bones and then at the three pitiable survivors. 
 They had been living oif the remains. 
 
 By a superhuman effort Fremont managed to take 
 them a march of one hundred and sixty miles, reaching 
 the Eed River in ten days. 
 
 From the town of Red River he sent back to the 
 twenty- two members of the expedition he had left in 
 the mountains one of his trusty men, Godey, with 
 forty mules and several Mexicans. This band of 
 twenty-two men had waited seven days in camp in the 
 gravest suspense, and then left, going in the direction 
 taken by Fremont and his party. They were now 
 wanderers in a land covered with snow, with no game, 
 
 v.s. s 
 
258 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 no resources, no hope. They were marching, as it 
 were, to their own funeral. Abeady, before aban- 
 doning the camp, Lame -Bear said he saw Arappa- 
 Honta in a dream. He said the party was doomed. 
 Other men were filled with strange presentiments. 
 Some, reduced to mere skeletons, began to see "visions. 
 
 They set out under a leaden sky, with a bitter wind 
 coming down at their back, the whole face of Nature 
 opposed to any kind of courage or hope, and they were 
 not surprised when only two miles out of camp Lame- 
 Bear turned suddenly about, faced the little band, let 
 his blanket and gun fall, and asked one of the men to 
 shoot him. After going about from one to the other 
 begging to be shot and getting a negative response 
 Lame-Bear turned, and, walking back to the forsaken 
 camp, died there all alone. The others pressed on in 
 a confused maze of thoughts. Death seemed every- 
 where. It surrounded them, enveloped them, urged 
 them on, and again urged them to fall down in the 
 snow and give up. They had only made ten miles 
 when a man named Jim Wise began to sing and 
 shout ; he threw up his arms, looked up at the sky 
 and sank down in the snow. Two Indians, members 
 of the expedition, wrapped the dead man in his 
 blanket and covered him with snow. 
 
 They pressed on. 
 
 The next day, Carver, one of the strongest men, a 
 hunter known for his prowess, began to see visions. 
 He stopped the company and began to describe things. 
 He called to mind some of the strange scenes at the 
 Indian Agency ; he saw the barbecue where the 
 buffalo was roasted whole ; he said if the men would 
 sit down in the snow the Indian cooks would attend 
 
IN THE MAZE 259 
 
 with dishes of stewed venison, buffalo tongue, prairie- 
 chicken, and many other things for a feast. 
 
 Carver's hopeless condition had a deadly effect on 
 some of the men, themselves hovering on the borders 
 of collapse and delirium, but there was nothing to be 
 done but wander on, the merest shadows of a once 
 sturdy band. 
 
 The next day Carver walked away into the deep 
 snows and they saw him no more. 
 
 The cold was greater now, although at first it did 
 not feel so ; and the moon, sinking down behind the 
 Rockies, in the west, left them in the middle of the 
 night, with the stars, the snow, and the awful silence, 
 fearing to sleep. When the morning dawned it 
 brought a sky as blue as sapphire, a crisp, sharp air, in 
 which nothing stirred, in which brilliant sunshine, 
 withering cold, the blue above, and the white pall 
 covering the earth, wrestled together in mocking 
 rivalry, all Nature getting ready for the last scene. 
 
 They had been marching but a short time when, 
 right before them there loomed a mirage of churches 
 and houses, pleasure-grounds, monuments, grave- 
 yards, shimmering streams, waterfalls glistening in 
 the sunlight, huge flowers, and white tents pitched on 
 the shores of beautiful lakes, crowds of people 
 appearing and disappearing, exactly as in a dream. 
 Somehow they were gazing at a mirage. 
 
 The Indian members of the band broke out in yells 
 of exultation ; they shouted, threw up their hands, 
 danced in an ecstasy of joy, for there before them, 
 they said, lay the happy hunting-grounds of the 
 spirit-world. 
 
 Haler, who was in command of the little party, 
 
 s 2 
 
260 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 brought the company to a halt and began a speech to 
 the men. 
 
 " Comrades," he said, " it ain't safe to go on like 
 this. We've got to break up into small bands and 
 scatter. . . . We've got to scatter. I don't expect to 
 survive, but I want to ask you one last favour, don't 
 shoot me, but wait till I die, then you can have my 
 body." 
 
 No sooner had he ceased speaking than they began 
 to scatter in small bands, each in a different direction, 
 hoping to meet a rescue party from Eed River 
 direction. 
 
 It was now only a question of how death would 
 arrive : by being starved or by being frozen ; and 
 some of the men did not object to the latter process, as 
 it was painless and quickly over. 
 
 The bands started. 
 
 At first it was agreed that as soon as a man gave 
 out the others should light a fire and leave him, but 
 soon even this was found impossible. Some were 
 beginning to get snow blind, others were deranged, 
 others were distracted by superstitious notions of 
 disaster whispered about by the Indians ; and all at 
 once someone called to mind the scene of the wolves, 
 the buffaloes, and bears in the great dance they had 
 witnessed, and each man felt himself in a maze. 
 
 One of the bands concluded to lie down in the snow 
 and wait for the first man to die. The Indians in 
 this party, after a cannibal feast, began to howl 
 and dance, and the white men, now crazed with 
 suffering, joined in the ghastly chorus of cries, groans, 
 yells, and mumbling imprecations. The party assumed 
 the aspect of a company of demons on the snow, made 
 
IN THE MAZE 261 
 
 more ghastly by the powerful moonlight, and the 
 death dance began over again, this time in its livid 
 reality. Two of the men were breathing their last, 
 others were about to fall ; some were describing 
 circles, curves, in single or double file, stamping, 
 turning about, jumping up and down, the Indians 
 jabbering in an unknown dialect, their faces becoming 
 more and more distorted. 
 
 The orgy of death ended the following day with 
 the arrival of Godey and his Mexicans, who took the 
 survivors to Taos, where Fremont was waiting at the 
 house of his old-time comrade, Kit Carson. 
 
 Fremont had lost all his mules, the whole of his 
 outfit, and nearly half his men. Nothing daunted, 
 however, he went to work, organised a new expedi- 
 tion, took a more southerly route and reached 
 California in the spring of 1849 safe and sound. 
 And I heard an old scout say : " There ain't a bullet 
 can touch him ! That man's got what they call a 
 charmed life." 
 
 Certainly of all the public men of that time, who 
 led adventuresome and romantic lives, Fremont was 
 the most daring and the most original. 
 
 The people of California sent him back to Washington 
 as their Senator. 
 
 ♦ * * * * 
 
 Many years after my St. Louis experiences I visited 
 General Fremont at San Jos^, California. We talked 
 much of the War days, and although an old man, he 
 seemed like one who had never known trouble or 
 disappointment, hale and serene. He passed away at 
 last, peaceably, in his bed, after what seemed indeed 
 a charmed life. 
 
CHAPTEE XXY 
 
 geierson's raid 
 
 Attached to General Grant's army was General 
 Griersou's brigade, consisting of the Sixth and Seventh 
 Illinois Cavalry and the Second lovp'a Cavalry. These 
 men and boys, many of whom I had known on the 
 prairies near the Log-House, were destined to engage 
 in the most dangerous and thrilling cavalry raid of the 
 four years' War. Of this raid Grant wrote : '' It was 
 Grierson who first set the example of what might be 
 done in the interior of the enemy's country without 
 any base from which to draw supplies " ; and of whom 
 Sheridan said : " Grierson was the first to teach us how 
 to handle cavalry successfully." 
 
 On the morning of April 17th, 1863,^ General 
 Grierson set out from the town of La Grange, in 
 Tennessee, at the head of 1,700 men, camping at night 
 in the town of Eipley, in the State of Mississippi, after 
 a ride of thirty miles. The next day a Eebel force 
 was encountered in the act of destroying the bridge 
 spanning the Tallahatchie Eiver, and after the Eebels 
 were put to flight Grierson's men restored the bridge 
 to its former condition. 
 
 Sunday morning, April 19th, brought many and 
 exciting adventures. Two companies, commanded by 
 Captain Trafton, made a dash at New Albany and 
 
 ^ " Grierson's Raid," by J. S. C. Abbott. Harper's Magazine, 
 February, 1865. 
 
GEIERSON'S RAID 268 
 
 drove the Rebels out of the town, while two more 
 companies plunged into the woods near by in search 
 of horses. They soon brought back all they could 
 lead, and by noon the brigade was again on the march, 
 heading due south, thi'ough the heart of hostile 
 Mississippi. 
 
 On the next day Major Love, of the Second Iowa, 
 was put in command of sixty men from each regiment 
 with orders to retm-n to La Grange with the captured 
 horses. The raiders advanced towards the south, and 
 camped at night at Clear Springs after a ride of forty 
 miles during the day. Early the next morning the 
 march was resumed, and Colonel Hatch was detailed to 
 break up the railroad near Okeola, but in the perilous 
 attempt he encountered a large force of Kebels, 
 received a serious wound, and his small body of troops 
 were scattered. General Grierson pressed on, and 
 after a hard ride of forty-five miles camped at a point 
 eight miles south of Starkville. The news of Grierson's 
 raid was spreading like wildfire throughout the 
 State. The raiders came without warning, and when 
 they left it was without any clue to theii' plans ; 
 mystery enshrouded their every movement. As they 
 proceeded south the danger of their position increased 
 with every mile, yet General Grierson was determined 
 to enter Baton Rouge at all costs, regardless of all 
 obstacles. 
 
 And now the telegraph wires had to be cut along 
 the railroad from Macon. Two men volunteered to 
 carry out this dangerous project, but in spite of their 
 already tried bravery their courage failed them at the 
 last moment. Everyone looked with dismay on a 
 duty which even these trained veterans dared not 
 
264 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 undertake, and yet the work had to be done. At last 
 a company of the Seventh Illinois was detailed to 
 proceed to the work, with Captain Forbes command- 
 ing. With thirty-five men he left the regiment on a 
 ride of fifty miles through a country swarming with 
 Eebels. No one expected to see Captain Forbes and 
 his company again. They directed their course 
 straight for the large town of Macon, but they were 
 forced to turn aside and make for the town of Enter- 
 prise on the railroad, and as they came in view of the 
 place they were greeted with the sight of three thou- 
 sand Eebel soldiers in the process of disembarking 
 from a train of cars. Here Captain Forbes had a flash 
 of inspiration. Without a moment's hesitation he rode 
 forward, bearing a flag of truce, and demanded the 
 instant surrender of the place to General Grierson, whom 
 the Rebels supposed to be close in the rear with a for- 
 midable force. The ruse succeeded. Colonel Goodwin, 
 the Rebel commander, asked for an hour in which to 
 consider the proposition. Captain Forbes complied 
 with this request, and put this hour to the best use 
 he knew how in a hard gallop toward the Pearl Eiver 
 with his little band of thirty-five men ; and the three 
 thousand scared Eebels in the town of Enterprise were 
 not called on for a more definite reply to the demand 
 for sui-render. 
 
 In the meantime the Sixth Illinois and the remainder 
 of the Seventh had made, during the day of the 
 19th and the following night, the most extraordinary 
 march of the whole raid. Coming to the town of 
 Starkville, they destroyed a large Eebel shoe factory, 
 committing a large quantity of leather and several 
 thousand pairs of shoes and hats to the flames. After 
 
GRIERSON'S RAID 265 
 
 this they suddenly found themselves surrounded by 
 treacherous swamps and swollen creeks. The spring 
 rains had overflowed every stream. The roads, of 
 which they were utterly ignorant, were like rivers, in 
 many places from three to four feet deep, and yet on 
 they went during, the night of the 22nd, jaded 
 men and jaded beasts, without a guide, without a 
 signpost to direct them, for delay meant death. As 
 they approached Pearl River, they met a small party 
 of Rebel pickets working with superhuman energy, 
 stripping up the planks of the bridge floor and hurling 
 them into the waters below. The pickets being dis- 
 posed of, the raiders pressed on into the night without 
 a single halt except at the town of Decatur, where 
 they captured and paroled seventy-five prisoners, 
 destroyed two warehouses full of commissary stores, 
 four loads of ammunition, burned the railroad bridges 
 and trestle work, and captured two trains of cars and 
 two locomotives. 
 
 At sunrise on the 29th General Grierson's band 
 found themselves on the outskirts of Brookhaven. 
 Here they burned the depot of the New Orleans and 
 Jackson railroad, their cars and bridges, and paroled 
 two hundred prisoners. The townspeople were panic- 
 stricken until they found that all private property 
 was respected, when they became profuse iu their 
 hospitality and the hope that the Union would soon be 
 restored. 
 
 General Grierson wrote : " I could have brought 
 away a thousand men with me, men whom I found 
 hiding in the swamps and the forests, where they had 
 been hunted like wild beasts by the conscript officers 
 with bloodhounds." 
 
266 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 At last, covered with dust, haggard, and in rags, 
 with a wild fire of delight and pride in their eyes, on 
 May 2nd, they galloped into the streets of Baton 
 Eonge. The story of their incredible adventures ran 
 with the echo of their horses' hoofs. The excitement 
 became indescribable. ]S"othing like it had been 
 known duiing the War. Less than two thousand men 
 had ridden through the State of Mississippi, encounter- 
 ing every conceivable danger, every known hardship, 
 with thousands of Eebels at their heels. 
 
 During the last thirty hours of the raid the intrepid 
 band rode eighty miles, engaged in three skirmishes, 
 destroyed large quantities of military stores, burned 
 bridges, swam one river, took forty-two prisoners, and 
 all without a single halt and without food. 
 
 In this raid General Grierson rode eight hundred 
 miles, with no guides except rude country maps and a 
 pocket compass, relying the whole of the way on the 
 country for forage and provisions. The raiders had 
 cut three railroads, burned nine bridges, destroyed 
 two locomotives and nearly two hundred cars, broken 
 up three Eebel camps, captured and paroled one 
 thousand prisoners, and brought into Baton Eouge 
 with them twelve hundred captured horses. 
 
 For twenty -five years subsequent to the Civil War 
 General Grierson had to deal with the most savage 
 Indian tribes on the wild plains along the borders of 
 Mexico, and he so conciliated their confidence that 
 from hostile savages they became his friends. After 
 being made military commander of that vast territory 
 lying between New Mexico and the Pacific Ocean, 
 which includes Arizona and Southern California, 
 General Grierson retired in his old age to Jacksonville, 
 
GRIEKSON'S RAID 267 
 
 Illinois, in the heart of Lincoln's country, the town 
 from which he went forth to the Civil War as Colonel 
 of the Sixth Illinois Cavalry, where he lives a tranquil 
 life, as if he had never known thirty years' militaiy 
 service of the most dangerous description. 
 
 The last time I saw him was at a reception I gave 
 in his honour dui'ing one of my last sojourns in 
 America. He was still in active service and came to 
 the reception accompanied by his military staff. 
 
 General Grierson, like General Fremont, seemed to 
 possess a charmed life. Shot at scores of times, I 
 believe he never once received a wound, and now, past 
 the age of eighty, is still in good health. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 One of my favourite modes of passing idle time was 
 on the levee watching the incoming and outgoing 
 boats. They arrived and departed by scores, for this 
 was the golden age of adventure in the Mississippi 
 Valley. 
 
 From the slumbering solitude of Minnesota the 
 mighty stream had drifted for ages before a white 
 man's canoe was seen upon its surface. Then came 
 the shriek of iron whistles, the swirl of puffing 
 machinery, the confusion and clashing of hordes of 
 adventuresome settlers, ushering in a new era and a 
 new world. 
 
 The departure of a favourite boat during the ante- 
 helium days made up a picture for the memory of a 
 lifetime. Here came hunters and trappers from the 
 western and northern wilds, men with rifles, pistols, 
 weapons with blades like butcher-knives, fashionably 
 dressed planters returning South, men resembling 
 haK-breeds, dark, quick-tempered desperadoes, jovial 
 comrades, professional gamblers, negroes, mulattos, 
 octoroons. 
 
 Indeed, in the sight of certain persons a Mississippi 
 steamboat was a puffing nightmare of profanity and 
 wickedness, while to the reckless adventurer it meant 
 increased activity, a more expansive feeling of life 
 and liberty. Freed from the trammels of sheriff and 
 
THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 269 
 
 bloodhounds, desperadoes from every State saw in it a 
 floating paradise of luxury and licence. Once on the 
 bosom of the great river responsibility and worry 
 were forgotten, and the still, small imps of the 
 imagination began to rise with the ciu'ling smoke 
 from the chimney-stacks and the rolling swell from 
 the paddle-wheels. The steamboat was a world in 
 itself, unlike anything ever seen or dreamed of — a 
 floating hotel at whose tables friends and foes, 
 preachers and infidels, card-sharpers and merchants, 
 slave-drivers and Abolitionists, planters, politicians, 
 and cut-throats rubbed shoulders and ate together. 
 It served as railway, stage-coach, and tavern ; it had 
 the freedom of the backwoods and the dolce far niente 
 of the log-cabin, while skilled negro cooks served up 
 corn-bread that melted in the mouth and caused many 
 a passenger to compare it with the coarse hominy and 
 gritty corn-meal of their own rough and primitive 
 homes. Little wonder that the ordinary traveller 
 found the Mississippi boat a haven of rest ; that after 
 such meals, after the French coffee or the Keutucky 
 whisky, they would sit in armchairs on the deck, 
 with their feet extended on the railing, their heads 
 thrown back, and puff wreaths of odorous smoke from 
 cigars made in Havana, think of things imtil now 
 unthinkable, and dream of wonders to come, while the 
 boat floated down with the current through balmy 
 airs, over a surface that touched the high-water mark 
 of two lonely and romantic shores. It was no wonder 
 that at meal-time danger was a thing that no one 
 stopped to consider, in spite of the fact that the steam- 
 boat of those days resembled nothing so much as an 
 architectural tinder-box, ready to disappear in a 
 
270 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 sudden blaze, sink to the bottom by striking a snag, 
 or go to pieces by an explosion. 
 
 Fashionable pleasure parties came and went from 
 and to the far South, and on the broad expanse of the 
 hurricane deck, under the opal lights of Southern 
 skies, beautiful and gi-acefully robed Creoles lent to 
 the aerial promenade something serenely antique and 
 remote, and as the boat swept majestically past the 
 shores of Louisiana soft airs, wafted from bowers of 
 orange blossoms, fanned the faces of a people without 
 a care, who lived by the day, whose lives seemed a 
 tranquil and luxurious dream. 
 
 Down in the "ladies' cabin," at the end of the 
 boat, there were evenings when the place resembled 
 some quaintly designed drawing-room in a fantastic 
 country house, and on certain occasions there would 
 be music and dancing. 
 
 A steamboat had three separate worlds. There was 
 the boiler-deck, the nethermost part, what timid minds 
 might call the inferno, peopled by negro deck-hands, 
 slaves, and "poor white trash," from which strange, 
 broken echoes rose and fell, snatches of songs blown 
 up on the night winds, mingling with the muffled din 
 of slamming furnace doors, spitting 'scape pipes, and 
 whirling paddle-wheels. Then came the saloon deck, 
 peopled by the men of all social grades travelling 
 " first-class " ; lastly, the exclusive portion set apart 
 for ladies. 
 
 In warm weather a roaring trade was done at the 
 bar, which glittered with cut-glass, crystal decanters, 
 silver mirrors, bottles arrayed to attract the eye 
 and tempt the individual taste; and the "bar- 
 keeper," ablaze with diamond studs and breast pin, 
 
THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 271 
 
 condescended, with cool and deliberate demeanour, to 
 serve his customers who, at certain moments, stood 
 around the counter two rows deep. That part of the 
 saloon near the bar was usually occupied by gamblers 
 engaged in playing for high stakes, and around the 
 tables here scenes of wild and tragic excitement were 
 often enacted. 
 
 One day, at the beginning of the war, while standing 
 on the levee close to the water's edge, I heard some 
 one shout : '' Hello there, Bub ! " 
 
 I looked up and saw a tall, angular young man, 
 wearing the uniform of the Union Volunteers. He 
 was looking down at me from the deck of the Citi/ of 
 Alton, where he stood with other volunteers in blue. 
 
 " What are you doing here ? " he shouted. 
 
 I looked hard at him for some moments before I 
 recognised a yoimg man I had known in Alton, and 
 hardly had I done so when a man standing beside him 
 shouted: "Say, Bub, don't you want to come along 
 with us ? " 
 
 To my great astonishment, it was Azariah James, 
 who was also a volunteer. The preacher from the 
 prairies and his companions in arms were about to 
 enter the strife ; talk and preaching were to be put 
 aside for action. 
 
 The boat was crowded with soldiers, young men 
 from the country round about the Log-House and the 
 district about Jacksonville. There must have been, 
 at that moment, on the Citf/ of Alton, a dozen men 
 and boys I had known in Hlinois, Here they 
 were, coming down in boatloads from the prairies, 
 from the cornfields, from the meeting-houses, from 
 the backwoods. In thi-ee months' time all these 
 
272 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 meek-mannered, awkward young men would be turned 
 into weather-beaten soldiers, and in the short space of 
 six months into hard and toughened fighters. Things 
 had changed, and things would change again, as in a 
 night, and to many on this boat, and other boats here 
 on the levee, life would soon cease to pass as in a 
 pleasant dream and would become a long nightmare 
 of dangers and terrors inconceivable. 
 
 In the winter of 1862 a great fleet of steamboats 
 set out from St, Louis to Memphis, Tennessee, to 
 co-operate in General Grant's surprise movement 
 against Yicksburg, the Eebel stronghold on the 
 Mississippi. I stood for hours gazing in admiration 
 at the different boats under Government orders to 
 proceed to the South. There was the beautiful Die 
 Vernon, destined to embark the Third Kentucky 
 Eegiment at Memphis; there was the Des Arc, 
 wrapped, as it seemed to me, in an aura of glory, for the 
 officers and escort of General Smith's First Division ; 
 there was the City of Alton for two Ohio Regiments ; 
 the trim, light-going Hiawatha ; the Spread Eagle, 
 skimming the water like a bird, loaded with the One 
 Hundred and Twenty-seventh Illinois ; the Sucker State, 
 with her characteristic smoke-stacks, suggesting to me 
 the wilderness and prairie ; there was the stately Dakota, 
 slightly battered about the paddle-box ; the powerful 
 City of Memphis, whose very name called up delightful 
 souvenirs of the sunny South, embarking two batteries 
 of Missouri Artillery and the Eighth Regiment, with a 
 section of Parrott guns ; and the Omaha, the Sioux 
 City, the Indiana; the handsome Westmoreland, for 
 Colonel Stuart's Fifty -fifth Illinois from Benton Bar- 
 racks ; the Adriatic, the Gladiator, the Isabella, the 
 
\\ 
 
 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 273 
 
 Polar Star, superb among the galaxy of river meteors ; 
 and twenty-five more of like build and swiftness. 
 
 What a change had come over the river ! No more 
 pleasure trips, no more going and coming for the mere 
 love of travel and change. Most of these boats had 
 been, and would be again, loaded with soldiers sound 
 in wind and limb going dovni stream to the front, 
 returning with wounded or fever-stricken invalids, or 
 whole troops of Rebel prisoners. The ladies' cabin, 
 the hurricane deck, the boiler deck, saloon, all were 
 full of soldiers ; nobody thought of distinctions, there 
 were no vacant spots, and the pilot-house perched on 
 the Texas rose clear and white from a sea of soldiers, 
 like a great bird's nest at the top of a forest of animate 
 trunks, and the steps, the railings, the promenade, the 
 rim all round the skylights of the roof, were dotted 
 and hung with men in blue uniforms, standing, sitting, 
 lolling, lying down, a knapsack for pillow, chewing 
 tobacco or eating oranges, gazing at the people below, 
 some joking callously, some with pensive faces, home- 
 sick already, others in the throes of unconquerable 
 agitation, others longing for the fray, while towering 
 smoke-stacks belched forth rolling pillars of black 
 smoke that spread in trailing clouds far over the 
 water. 
 
 The river front was the centre of bustle, noise, and 
 excitement. If the town itself seemed asleep, the 
 long, wide, sloping levee was all life, with hundreds 
 of drays, mules, negroes, deck-hands, some of them 
 idle, but many more working as they had never worked, 
 shouting, cursing, the hoarse voices of mates rising 
 above the general din and arriving across the cobble 
 stones like the ravings of men in delirium, while the 
 
 v.s. T 
 
274 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 soldiers on the steamboats contemplated the movement 
 and uproar going on before them with the mien of so 
 many statues in blue. Groups of idle negroes looked 
 on bewildered, expressing the opinions of whites, 
 picked up here and there. Some of them were free 
 men and they could do as they pleased. 
 
 " Ketch me on one o' dem boats ! " remarked a 
 burly black ; "I done bin down dar an' I know w'at 
 dey gwine do. Dey ain't gwine down dar fer te 'joy 
 deyself lak at a pic-nic ; dey gwine down te Kaintuck 
 an' Yicksburg te play de 'possum an' de coon. Mistah 
 'Possum he done absquatulate hissef in a big hole by 
 de ribber-bankj an' by-an'-by 'long come Mistah Coon 
 fum St. Louis on one er dem boats, an' he invite de 
 'possum out, but de 'possum he say 'No, sah!' he declah 
 he gwine ter stay right whar he am. De coon 'monstrate 
 wid de 'possum but de 'possum run roun' by de back 
 do', come up ober de bank an' 'gin te let fly at Mist' 
 Coon settin' dar on de boat in de cool ob de ebenin'. 
 Dat make de coon ask hissef whar all de bumble-bees 
 an' yaller hornets come from — ziz, ziz, boom, whiz ! 
 it gittin' stingin' hot on Mistah Coon's boat ; de bullets 
 dey fallin' lak hail, one man drop, den nudder, an' 
 nudder ; Mist' Coon 'low dar ain't no time fer te tarry, 
 he ring de bell fer de pilot, he ring de bell fer de 
 engineer, he shout fer de fust mate, de mate 'gin te 
 cuss an' howl — de boat let loose fum de levee. No, sah! 
 it ain't good fer de coon's health te come 'sturbin' de 
 'possum in his hole down dar ; dis niggah gwine stay 
 right whar he am." 
 
 The spring of 1863 was a period of grave suspense 
 in St. Louis. Would Grant succeed in taking 
 Yicksburg ? 
 
THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 275 
 
 Ou the night of April IGth, a long line of dark 
 objects could be distinguished bearing down stream 
 toward the redoubtable Rebel batteries of Vicksburg. 
 Admiral Porter headed the line in the gunboat Benton^ 
 followed by the Tuscumbia, so far beneath the surface 
 that her black iron sides were almost invisible ; then, 
 a little to the right of the ironclad fleet, and hugging 
 the opposite shore as much as safety would permit, 
 came the steamboats with ten huge barges in tow 
 laden with corn, freight, and provisions. Would they 
 succeed in running the batteries in the dark ? Would 
 the crew of the steamboats stick to their posts ? 
 Never, even to the eyes of the most hardened pilot, 
 had the moving gulf of water appeared so menacing, 
 so black, so hungry for victims. The mighty stream, 
 as the fleet approached Vicksburg, never seemed so 
 wrapped in silence as now, owing to the stillness of 
 the crews and the absence of all unnecessary noise. 
 All was going well. The Benton was now opposite 
 the Forts. All at once an awful sound smote the ears 
 of the men on the boats. The Eebel batteries had 
 opened fire. A thunderous roar went up from the 
 Benton, whose guns were all ready and only waiting 
 for such a signal. The time had arrived for the test- 
 ing of nerves, the trial of courage, the last ordeal of 
 shock and terror. 
 
 The batteries of the Fort are now belching forth shot 
 that tear across the ironclads with deadly impact, skim- 
 ming along the surface with a sickening splash so near 
 as to make death fairly palpable. The Benton has 
 escaped ; she is now beyond the fire range ; but here 
 comes the ironclad Tuscumbia, now, in her turn, within 
 the range of fire. The steamboat Forest Queen is 
 
276 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 there, too, trying to pass with the TuscumUa as 
 an escort. Something bursts just above the surface 
 of the water, driving steel splinters and bits of iron 
 in every direction. It is the first bomb from the 
 Eebel mortars. One of the steam pipes of the Forest 
 Queen is gone ; a moment more, and a ball rips 
 through the hull ; quick, the TuscumUa takes the 
 damaged boat in tow, and with all steam on, heads 
 for the bank. The air is streaked with whirling 
 flashes from the Yicksburg mortars, bombs burst in 
 mid- air, they descend in a hail of sparks and fire, they 
 burst in the water, on the decks, around the pilot- 
 houses; ears are deafened with the roar of Parrott 
 guns, it is impossible to hear the officers' commands ; 
 the steamboats rush past with all haste, for a new 
 terror has come. The river is becoming a living 
 inferno. Light is spreading over the town of Vicks- 
 burg, where houses are on fire, houses are ablaze on 
 the opposite shore ; waves of light rise and fall, and 
 rise again in different places ; a cloud of sparks are 
 shooting up from the steamboat Henry Clay in mid- 
 stream ; the black waters of the Mississippi begin to 
 shimmer with a ghastly glow, the flames lap the boat 
 with magical swiftness ; the river is bathed in an awful 
 yellow light, through which the bursting shells 
 descend in arches of fire, disclosing the crew of the 
 Henry Clay making frantic efforts to escape from 
 the burning hulk. Men are going to the bottom ; 
 her pilot, who is floating on a piece of wi'eck, is 
 picked up by General Sherman, who is there with 
 a yawl, while hard by the lucky Silver Wave skims 
 along out of the danger zone, escaping with a mere 
 scratch. 
 
THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 277 
 
 On the Henry Clay were two boys whom I knew in 
 Alton, and in the yawl with Sherman was Azariah 
 James and another volunteer we had known in Illinois. 
 
 On the 4th of July Vicksburg capitulated, and the 
 Mississippi became once more free to navigation. 
 
 In this same month I went on a visit to the family 
 of the Eeverend Samuel Smith, a Presbyterian minister 
 at Alton, and there, on the second day after my arrival, 
 as I was roaming about the levee, I saw a steamboat 
 arrive and a score of passengers come ashore. Among 
 them was a man who was hardly able to walk and who 
 stopped to look about him as if in search of someone. 
 In a few moments a woman came running down to 
 meet him. The man was Elihu Gest, the Load- 
 Bearer, so changed by illness that at first I did not 
 know him. He had been at the front with an 
 ambulance corps, and, later, acting as nurse in the 
 Overton Military Hospital at Memphis. He was now 
 " invalided home," and his wife had come to meet him 
 with a covered wagon. 
 
 When I returned to St. Louis I found my father 
 getting ready to move with the family to Niagara 
 Falls. We left Missouri in August, and arrived at 
 the celebrated watering-place at the height of a 
 brilliant season, with all the great hotels full, with 
 balls two or three times a week at the Cataract House 
 and the International Hotel, so far removed from the 
 War that it seemed as if such a thing was not known. 
 And yet, even here, on the borders of Canada, there 
 was hardly a home that did not have a friend or a 
 relative at the front. 
 
 For me, at least, the change from the hot city on 
 the Mississippi to the cool breezes wafted up from the 
 
278 THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 
 
 Eapids and the surging cataract was almost too good 
 to be true ; and for more than a year, during our stay- 
 in that wonderful spot, I wandered about free at all 
 hours, enjoying to the full this new revelation of the 
 beauty of I^atui'e. 
 
 So goes the world, for " Time and the hour runs 
 through the roughest day." 
 
 THE END. 
 
 BRAPBUEY, AONF.W, it CO. l,V., LONDON AND TONBKUiOE 
 
12 im: 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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