Desert Dust Part 22

"I have said that n.o.body, man, woman or child, or dog, goes hungry from the Adams wagon. The flesh must be fed as well as the soul."

There were two women in view, busied with domestic cares. I had sensed their eyes cast now and then in my direction. One was elderly, as far as might be judged by her somewhat slatternly figure draped in a draggled snuff-colored, straight-flowing gown, and by the merest glimpse of her features within her faded sunbonnet. The other promptly moved aside from where she was bending over a wash-board, ladled food from a kettle to a platter, poured a tin cupful of coffee from the pot simmering by the fire, and bore them to me; her eyes down, shyly handed them.

I thanked her but was not presented. To the Captain's "That will do, Rachael," she turned dutifully away; not so soon, however, but that I had seen a fresh young face within the bonnet confines--a round rosy face according well with the buxom curves of her as she again bent over her wash-board.

"Our fare is that of the tents of Abraham, stranger," spoke the Captain, who had resumed his whittling. "Such as it is, you are welcome to. We are a plain people who walk in the way of the Lord, for that is commanded."

His sonorous tones were delivered rather through the nose, but did not fail of hospitality.

"I ask nothing better, sir," I answered. "And if I did, my appet.i.te would make up for all deficiencies."

"A healthy appet.i.te is a good token," he affirmed. "Show me a well man who picks at his victuals and I will show you a candidate for the devil. His thoughts will like to be as idle as his knife."

The mess of pork and beans and the black unsweetened coffee evidently were what I needed, for I began to mend wonderfully ere I was half through the course. He had not invited me to further conversation--only, when I had drained the cup he called again: "Rachael! More coffee," whereupon the same young woman advanced, without glancing at me, received my cup, and returned it steaming.

"You are from the East, stranger?" he now inquired.

"Yes, sir. I arrived in Benton only yesterday."

"A Sodom," he growled harshly. "A tented sepulcher. And it will perish. I tell you, you do well to leave it, you do well to yoke yourself with the appointed of this earth, rather than stay in that sink-pit of the eternally d.a.m.ned."

"I agree with you, sir," said I. "I did not find Benton to be a pleasant place. But I had not known, when I started from Omaha."

"Possibly not," he moodily a.s.sented. "The devil is attentive; he is present in the stations, and on the trains; he will ride in those gilded palaces even to the Jordan, but he shall not cross. In the name of the Lord we shall face him. What good there shall come, shall abide; but the evil shall wither. Not," he added, "that we stand against the railroad. It is needed, and we have pet.i.tioned without being heard. We are strong but isolated, we have goods to sell, and the word of Brigham Young has gone forth that a railroad we must have. Against the harpies, the gamblers, the loose women and the l.u.s.tful men and all the Gentile vanities we will stand upon our own feet by the help of Almighty G.o.d."

At this juncture, when I had finished my platter of pork and beans and my second cup of coffee, a tall, double-jointed youth of about my age, carrying an ox goad in his hand, strolled to us as if attracted by the harangue. He was clad in the prevalent cowhide boots, linsey-woolsey pantaloons tucked in, red flannel s.h.i.+rt, and battered hat from which untrimmed flaxen hair fell down unevenly to his shoulder line. He wore at his belt butcher-knife and gun.

By his hulk, his light blue eyes, albeit a trifle crossed, and the general lineaments of his stolid, square, high-cheeked countenance I conceived him to be a second but not improved edition of the Captain.

A true raw-bone he was; and to me, as I casually met his gaze, looked to be obstinate, secretive and small minded. But who can explain those sudden antagonisms that spring up on first sight?

"My son Daniel," the Captain introduced. "This stranger travels to Zion with us, Daniel, in the employ of Mr. Jenks."

The youth had the grip of a vise, and seemed to enjoy emphasizing it while cunningly watching my face.

"Haowdy?" he drawled. With that he tw.a.n.ged a sentence or two to his father. "I faound the caow, Dad. Do yu reckon to pull aout to-day?"

"I have not decided. Go tend to your duties, Daniel."

Daniel bestowed upon me a parting stare, and lurched away, snapping the lash of his goad.

"And with your permission I will tend to mine, sir," I said. "Mr. Jenks doubtless has work for me. I thank you for your hospitality."

"We are commanded by the prophet to feed the stranger, whether friend or enemy," he reproved. "We are also commanded by the Lord to earn our bread by the sweat of our brow. As long as you are no trifler you will be welcome at my wagon. Good-day to you."

As I pa.s.sed, the young woman, Rachael--whom I judged to be his daughter, although she was evidently far removed from parent stock--glanced quickly up. I caught her gaze full, so that she lowered her eyes with a blush. She was indeed wholesome if not absolutely pretty. When later I saw her with her sunbonnet doffed and her brown hair smoothly brushed back I thought her more wholesome still.

Mr. Jenks received me jovially.

"Got your belly full, have you?"

"I'm a new man," I a.s.sured.

"Wall, those Mormons are good providers. They'll share with you whatever they have, for no pay, but if you rub 'em the wrong way or go to d.i.c.kerin'

with 'em they're closer'n the hide on a cold mule. You didn't make sheep's eyes at ary of the women?"

"No, sir. I am done with women."

"And right you are."

"However, I could not help but see that the Captain's daughter is pleasing to look upon. I should be glad to know her, were there no objections."

"How? His daughter?"

"Miss Rachael, I believe. That is the name he used."

"The young one, you mean?"

"Yes, sir. The one who served me with breakfast. Rosy-cheeked and plump."

"Whoa, man! She's his wife, and not for Gentiles. They're both his wives; whether he has more in Utah I don't know. But you'd best let her alone.

She's been j'ined to him."

This took me all aback, for I had no other idea than that she was his daughter, or niece--stood in that kind of relation to him. He was twice her age, apparently. Now I could only stammer:

"I've no wish to intrude, you may be sure. And Daniel, his son--is he married?"

"That whelp? Met him, did you? No, he ain't married, yet. But he will be, soon as he takes his pick 'cordin' to law and gospel among them people.

You bet you: he'll be married plenty."

CHAPTER XI

WE GET A "SUPER"

What with a.s.sorting and stowing the bales of cloth and the other goods in the Jenks two wagons, watering the animals and staking them out anew, tinkering with the equipment and making various essays with the bull whip, I found occupation enough; nevertheless there were moments of interim, or while pa.s.sing to and fro, when I was vividly aware of the scenes and events transpiring in this Western world around about.

The bugles sounded calls for the routine at Fort Steele--a mere cantonment, yet, of tents and rough board buildings squatting upon the bare brown soil near the river bank, north of us, and less than a month old. The wagon road was a line of white dust from the river clear to Benton, and through the murk plodded the water haulers and emigrants and freighters, animals and men alike befloured and choked. The dust cloud rested over Benton. It fumed in another line westward, kept in suspense by on-traveling stage and wagon--by wheel, hoof and boot, bound for Utah and Idaho. From the town there extended northward a third dust line, marking the stage and freighting road through the Indian country to the mining settlements of the famous South Pa.s.s of the old Oregon Trail; yes, and with branches for the gold regions of Montana.

The railroad trains kept thundering by us--long freights, dusty and indomitable, bringing their loads from the Missouri River almost seven hundred miles in the east. And rolling out of Benton the never-ceasing construction trains sped into the desert as if upon urgent errands in response to some sudden demand of More, More, More.

Upon all sides beyond this business and energy the country stretched lone and uninhabited; a great waste of naked, hot, resplendent land blotched with white and red, showing not a green spot except the course of the Platte; with scorched, rusty hills rising above its fantastic surface, and, in the distance, bluish mountain ranges that appeared to float and waver in the sun-drenched air.

The sounds from Benton--the hammering, the shouting, the babbling, the puffing of the locomotives--drifted faintly to us, merged into the cracking of whips and the oaths and songs by the wagon drivers along the road. Of our own little camp I took gradual stock.

It, like the desert reaches, evinced little of feverishness, for while booted men busied themselves at tasks similar to mine, others lolled, spinning yarns and whittling; the several women, at wash-boards and at pots and pans and needles, worked contentedly in sun and shade; children played at makes.h.i.+ft games, dogs drowsed underneath the wagons, and outside our circle the mules and oxen grazed as best they might, their only vexation the blood-sucking flies. The flies were kin of Benton.