CHAPTER VI.NON-RESISTANCE.
It was the custom of the Pioneers to send once a week to Union Mills in order to do their necessary marketing and to get the post, which came there twice a week from Kansas City by stage-coach. The subject of the post was one that had been rather hotly debated at Perfection City, although to the outsider it would seem a very harmless topic, and not fruitful of division. The fact was, however, that there was only one member of the Community who showed any eagerness about getting letters regularly and often, and that member was Madame. She indeed did receive a most unconscionable number of letters and periodicals, so the other members thought. She got several American Magazines, such as the Atlantic Monthly and Harper’s, but she also received English papers, and French ones, and occasionally German ones as well. The Community thought, but did not dare to give public expression to the thought, that Madame should have rested content with the mental sustenance provided by themselves for home consumption.Brother Wright in particular felt himself equal to the task of providing everybody with all they needed in the way of correct views upon even the highest subjects. But Madame, although she listened with politeness and apparent attention to what he had to say, found this sustenance too meagre for the wants of her nature. Moreover she took a deep interest in the affairs of the outside world, an interest almost offensive to persons who prided themselves upon having risen above the world and all its concerns. It was really humiliating to think that the leading spirit of their Community should occupy her mind with the relations between Prussia and Austria, when such questions as affected the future of humanity and of Perfection City were what filled their souls. She even evinced a keen interest in the career and personality of the Prussian minister, Bismarck, and that, too, when Brother Wright was willing to give her the light of his thoughts upon all really important questions. It was painful to the feeling of the Pioneers, who were all in all to themselves and wished to be so to others, but they had to put up with it, since Madame was their leader and, moreover, the only one who had a purse with some money in it. Ezra was the only member of the Community who sided with Madame in her taste for reading the new books and the latest periodicals. He and she had that taste, with many others, in common, and it drew them together in an especial degree. On his last trip East during the winter, when hehad been so unexpectedly delayed, as they now knew, by meeting with his fate in the shape of Olive, one of his commissions had been to bring back a box of books, which were now arranged in neat shelves in Madame’s private sitting-room. And yet notwithstanding all these books, a hundred or more, the steady stream of papers, periodicals, and magazines continued as before, and had to be fetched regularly from Union Mills.
The brethren took it in turns to go to the town, which was some ten miles distant, and they always combined some useful business with the fetching of the letters. Brother Wright was a frequent messenger, for he liked going better than Ezra did, while of course Brother Dummy was precluded by his affliction from going, and Brother Carpenter was hopelessly unable to drive horses. Some of the women generally contrived to find an excuse for going to Union Mills, for women like to get away from the petty cares of house and home, a peculiarity from which the sisters of Perfection City were by no means exempt. In particular Mrs. Ruby, invariably called Aunt Ruby, loved to go. She thus got a chance of seeing new faces and talking with new people. She would not for worlds have confessed that she was tired of the restricted society of Perfection City, but she knew so well what each had to say, that it was refreshing to go out sometimes into the world and meet people whose ideas could not always be guessed beforehand.
It so happened that the day after the corn planting it became necessary to go to Union Mills in order to take a grist of corn to be ground. Madame suggested that Brother Wright should go, while Brother Dummy took up his plough-handles and finished the field the former was preparing for the corn. Mary Winkle, still prostrated by the previous day’s hard work, urged her spouse to go, “For then,” said she, “if you ain’t here I needn’t get any dinner. I’ll just send Willette over to Sister Olive’s for dinner, and I needn’t stir till milking time.” This seemed a happy arrangement, and her husband set off shortly after breakfast, picking up Aunt Ruby as he passed her cottage.
“Be you lonesome living in that house by yourself?” asked Brother Wright as they jogged along over the prairie, for it had struck him as very lonely that morning as he drove up.
“No, no, I ain’t lonely, least not most whiles,” answered Aunt Ruby, an alert little old woman, not unlike a bird in her quick movements. “In the summer-time there’s allus the chickens to see to an’ feed an’ ten’, an’ chickens is powerful spry an’ talkin’ birds. They most allus has somethin’ to scold an’ chatter ’bout, chickens an’ hens has, an’ cocks. Then in the winter I hev the clock tickin’ loud o’ evenin’s, an’ that’s most as good as a pusson in the room, an’ there’s allus the cat, an’ mostly the kettle singin’ on the stove. Come to think on’t, there’s a heap o’ companyin a house like mine, if you on’y has ears to hear an’ un’erstan’ what is said by beasts an’ things.”
Yet notwithstanding this “heap o’ company” Aunt Ruby dearly loved a good gossip with the saddler’s wife at Union Mills, whenever that luxury was attainable. On the present occasion Aunt Ruby had a real good time, for Brother Wright was delayed longer than usual, first in order to get some harness mended, and afterwards to have a shoe replaced that suddenly showed signs of coming off one of the horses. Thus it was very near sun-down before they left Union Mills. Aunt Ruby, owing in large measure to her gossip, and also partly to an exceptionally strong cup of tea, was in a highly nervous and excitable frame of mind.
Had Brother Wright, she asked, heard of that rumour about the Cherokees? And did he think there was any danger of their leaving their Reservation and going on the war-path? Brother Wright, who had a poor opinion of Indians, and a worse one of the way in which the white men had treated them, thought on the whole that the rumour might be considered false. This comforted Aunt Ruby, to whom the word “Injun” suggested torture and death and all sorts of horrors. She remained comforted until she remembered that other rumour—about the raid of border ruffians from out of Missouri. Brother Wright thought it highly probable that this rumour might prove to be true. Missouri men had raided Kansas more than once,and it was possible they might do so again at any moment. With conversation such as this they came to the end of the daylight and the beginning of the trees around Cotton Wood Creek about the same time.
“I shall be glad when we are safe over this ford and out of the dark wood beyond,” said Brother Wright, trying to urge his horses along, but he had a heavy load of timber and coal and some iron bars for smith-work.
“Ain’t it near here that those people over beyond Jacksonville got robbed?” asked Aunt Ruby, nervously peering about in the gloom with her weak old eyes. At this moment some distant creature made a shrill scream or howl.
“Oh! what was that,” exclaimed Aunt Ruby nervously.
“That was a prairie wolf, I guess,” answered Brother Wright quietly.
Silence followed, except for the creaking of the waggon, the straining of the horses at their traces, and an occasional clang made by one of the bars of iron which was not sufficiently wedged up with hay.
“If those Missouri border ruffians came to Perfection City, do you reckon our principles would save us from being robbed?” asked Aunt Ruby. “Most everybody knows as we are non-resistants.”
“I don’t think our principles would stand in the way of a Missouri man. More likely they would take advantage of them. They are mean cusses, and areused to riding rough-shod over principles and rights. It is a recognised thing everywhere that women and children are non-resistants, yet that does not save ’em from being raided and robbed by border ruffians.”
“And you think they would rob us, peaceful folks as ha’n’t no arms nor nothin’?” asked Aunt Ruby anxiously.
“I guess they would try,” replied Brother Wright.
“Then I think as we oughter reconsider our principles a mite,” said Aunt Ruby. “For if we are robbed and killed by folks as can’t un’erstan’ the higher life, we shan’t be able to teach the world nothin’. An’ what’s the good o’ principles when you’re dead an’ gone an’ undergroun’?”
“That is so,” assented Brother Wright.
“I didn’t never think on’t in this light afore,” said Aunt Ruby. “It ’pears to me as how we should meet together an’ try an’ settle some way as how we can keep our principles an’ yet live on the prairie.”
“I guess you’ve pretty nearly said the truth,” said Brother Wright.
“What we hev to do is to live here an’ show ’em our principles at work, an’ not die straightway afore we’ve done anything to improve mankind. That’s my view,” said Aunt Ruby. “What do you think, Brother Wright?”
Instead of answering Brother Wright pulled up short and looked intently in front of him.
“What’s the matter?” exclaimed Aunt Ruby in a high-pitched voice of alarm.
“Hush!” replied her companion, “don’t make a noise.”
Aunt Ruby’s heart began to beat violently. “Do you see anything?” she asked in a whisper.
“I see a man over there by the road, sitting on horseback with his right arm out pointing towards the waggon.”
“Oh! brother, I wish you had a carnal weapon of defence,” said Aunt Ruby in a shaking voice.
“I have,” replied Brother Wright, pulling an uncommonly useful-looking Colt’s revolver from his breeches pocket. “I always carry one in case of Injuns.”
Again they sat silent for a moment, the horses shook their heads, and one of them stamped a foot.
“Who goes there?” hailed Brother Wright in a loud defiant voice. “Drop that right arm of yours or I’ll fire.”
No answer.
The figure sat motionless, the right hand still raised in that menacing attitude.
“I am a man of my word,” said Brother Wright, rising to his feet and sighting his revolver steadily on the figure, while to Aunt Ruby he said, “Hold on tight, the horses will jump.”
A shot rang out on the still night air. The horses nearly jumped out of their skins with fright, andwould certainly have run away, only the waggon was very heavy, and they decided to run in different directions. Hence they only jerked each other almost to the ground and then stood still amazed and trembling.
“Better make sure,” said Brother Wright, emptying another barrel at the figure which appeared to remain motionless in the uncertain foggy light. This time the horses came to the same conclusion and tried to turn round abruptly, but the attempt was expertly frustrated by Brother Wright and a cowhide whip of exceptional stinging power. Having thus reduced the horses to reason, he again turned his attention to the figure and saw with amazement that it still sat on horseback in the same spot.
“Well, I swan!” said Brother Wright, rubbing his eyes. “That beats all! It can’t be a mortal man, or he would have either dropped or returned fire. I guess I’ll drive on and do no more shooting this time.”
He stowed his pistol away in his pocket and drove on.
“Hadn’t you better keep the weapon handy?” suggested Aunt Ruby. “You might lay it down in my lap, if you like.”
“No, thank’ee,” replied Brother Wright. “I don’t generally give that sort of thing to women to hold for me.”
He pulled up at a little opening just near theford, where the faint light of a crescent moon showed between the bare branches of the trees, and a sort of water-fog hung along the elder bushes by the banks.
“This is the spot he was standing,” remarked Wright, “the exact spot. I guess I’ll just look and see if there is any trail. The ground is soft about here and should show up pretty clear.”
He descended from the waggon and carefully examined the side of the road, but could see nothing. There was a large stump with a broken branch sticking out which attracted his attention, and he walked around it a couple of times, surveying it critically in the uncertain light.
“Well, I swan!” he exclaimed, after the third inspection. “I didn’t think I could have been mistaken.”
Then he climbed back into the waggon, and said, “Gee-up!”
“Did you fin’ any tracks o’ robbers?” asked his companion anxiously.
“No,” replied Brother Wright, “no tracks of robbers, but I lighted on the trail of a doggauned fool. Guess we’ll not say much about the attack made on our waggon, at Little Cotton Wood Creek.”
“I won’t mention it at all,” remarked Aunt Ruby, “’cause it might frighten the folks up to Perfection City an’ make ’em uneasy ’bout coming to Union Mills.”
Brother Wright only chuckled in reply, possiblybecause his whole attention was required at this juncture to get his horses and waggon safely through the water, for it was certainly very dark in that bottom-land. Once the creek was crossed and the high prairie reached, it became easy enough to see by the light of the new moon and the stars, and the pair reached Perfection City in safety, although very late.
Brother Wright was very eager to unravel the mystery of that horseman at the ford on Little Cotton Wood Creek, so he made a private expedition thither on horseback as soon as he could frame an excuse for a morning’s absence. He went to the place whence he had first seen the alarming stranger, half closed his sharp grey eyes, and looked.
“Well, I swan!” he remarked, as this expression seemed somehow to relieve his feelings. By daylight there was nothing suspicious to be seen, but the old stump with the broken branch sticking out from it straight towards the spectator. Brother Wright surveyed this stump critically and came to the conclusion that with the help of darkness, a slight mist, a new moon, and a nervous companion, the old stump might take on an alarming aspect. He rode up to the stump, got off his horse, and examined it.
“I should like to know that I hit him plumb with both bullets anyhow,” remarked he, with a grin most unbecoming to a Perfection City non-resistant. He had hit “him” plumb, but so had other people, and the amazed Brother Wright counted no less than seventeenbullet holes, both old and new, in the body of that long suffering stump.
“Well, I be jiggered!” said Brother Wright as he mounted his horse. “What a sight of blamed fools there must be in the world!” and with this comforting reflection he rode home, and ever after held his peace about the episode on the ford of Little Cotton Wood Creek. And so likewise did Aunt Ruby, that talkative old lady. But sometimes, when she and Brother Wright looked into each other’s eyes, they grinned a little sheepishly, showing that the recollection of it had not quite faded from their minds.