Tales and Sketches.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 13, 22 April 1871, Page 17

Tales and Sketches.

A CALIFOENIAN EXPERIENCE. [Prom the Overlaid Monthly] It drizzled unmistakeably that night—not in straightforward rain, but in sneaking gusts that glanced down the neck and up the sleeve. I pulled on my coat, and splashed out to the gate to see if it were fast against wandering cattle. Thejights in the, house gleamed dimly through the mist, as if the wet had reached them too. Even old • Don,' who followed me gingerly out from the porch, shook his shaggy coat and snuffed his disgust at the weather. Satisfied that all was right I was about returning to shelter when from around the cornor of the fence came the sound of horses feet and a heavy waggon sucking and groaning up the incline. A low, prolonged growl from the dog greeted the coming team, and I waited a moment to see who could be travelling at such a time and in such a sorry storm. There soon came abreast of the gate a huge waggon, drawn by six mules, which I could barely see through the fog. Attracted by the fire in my pipe, which I had succeeded in keeping alight, and the increased growling of the stopped, and after the , brake rattled down, a hoarse voice issued : 'Whoa there, June! I say, 3tranger, now far is it to town ?' ' To Los Angelos ? Ten miles !' ' That is a purty outlook for me. Ten miles ! It this a tavern?' 'No, ten miles to town !' ' Waal, stranger, I guess I'll stake out here to-night. Them animules is too beat to do that. Whare's yer water?' ' It is all around you to-night; but you can turn your mules into the corral and bring your blankets before the fire. It's too wet to stay out here.' ' Waal, I've seen wus night nor this, and I'm eenaraost waterproof; but since your pressin' I'll turn out the critters and jine you in a shake. Get up hear, you old eantakerous guv'ment mule. That ar' Black Bess is the quarest animule I ever •ee.' It required but little time to unhitch his team, and I opened the gate, and in the fagged creatures came—gaunt and worn, with moth eaten tails, and generally cast down as mules are when kicking days are past. Though there was a prospeot for them of fodder and corn, not the ghost of a trot appeared, but they meandered slowly into the yard, where our own horses crowded together under the shed, and gazed inhospitably at the new comers. 1 Have you any supper ?' I inquired of the teamster, as he came into the house with his blankets. 'Waal, now you mention it, I rayther think not, and I do feel a heap hungry.' I managed to get him a cold bite and a glass of toddy and as he whipped out his short black pipe, and moved up to the fire, he began to thaw, mentally, as I saw from the gladness in his eye, and physically, as the steam from his clothes attested. I was alone that night, and glad to have company. I had a good view of my guest now, a short, thick set man, with a shock of a beard, bronzed face, where it could be seen, and sharp grey eyes. A soldier's coat, much too large for him, was his upper garment, the only apparent addi tional vesture being a pair of immense boots. ' I like that liquor o' yours,' he said after a time. ' It ketches as it goes down; how long mout you have lived here?' ' Only a year,' I answered. Between the wreathe of curling smoke he scaned me closely and again inquired— * Where mout you hail from?' 'A great distance from here—from Maine.' ' From Maine ! you don't say so ? I'm from them parts myself. It seems kinder good to meet a feller nationer in a furrin country. How's all the folks down in Maine ?' ' About as usual, I fancy, but how did you get out here ?' ' I've made a long trip of it, you bet. If you don't want to turn in, I'll tell you all about it. It kinder drops the tailboard out of a feller's feeling to strike ft man from the same deestrict.' Assuring him that 1 should enjoy his confidence and his story—having mixed ' another stiff 'un to take out the last patch of cold—he related as follows: ' The fust of it was, me and the old man had a scrimmiage—not a fightin' one mind ye, fur I wouldn't have hurt a hair of the old man's head, not for gold, but I was tired of farmin' and ploughin' and hog killin, and sich like, and was bound for to go to sea. It's curus a feller never knows the right side of his melon till it's too late; but that's the way with all on us, and knockifl about in the world pulls the husk off the cob, and shows ye what's what. Howsomdever seein' as how I was hankin' to go away; and as 'Melia Prichard had married that city chap, and as the old man Said I shouldn't go, I was more determined than ever. There was a circus come along to our town, and me and the other boys was kinder handy—helpin' to water the horses, and doin' chores for the men—and we got into the show. It was the fust time I ever see a circus, and the band, and ; the riders, and.;the beautiful woman on a -calicohorse, was too much for me, particularly after I was let in to thelivin' skeleton and the fat lady. So I made up my mind to run off with this show, and

I marches up to the boss*and asked if he would take me. " What can you do P" says he. " Anythin'," says I; " mostly drive." "Well," says he, " I want a boy to drive the waggon with the centre pole, and I'll try you." And I left the old house and all ten years ago, and I've never seen em since." •The thinking man paused a moment, and then proceeded ; ' It wss Dan Rice's circus—and you know it was a good show —but it was hard lines for me, and the beautiful woman didn't look so beautiful everytime I see her afterwards, and we roughed it all the while; and I shouldn't have stuck to it if we hadn't been travelling west. I thought if I went fur enuf, I might get to Cali foray where gold was growin'. How about that gold ?' A grim peculiar smile flitted across a quarter-section of his face, and ending in a sneer lost itself in his shaggy beard. *I did leave the business for a while, and was some time in Canady and Wiscousin, but I always hankered after the show, and came back to it. There was three of us chums; and, very singular, we was all named Bill, and they gave us names to know us apart. I was called Centrepole Bill, 'cause I drove that waggon ; there was Canvas 8i11,,, as drove that waggon ; and Stubby Bill, as was a general hand. We travelled until we got to Mound City, in loway ; and there Stubby Bill was knifed for something or other in a row, and died. He and I didn't go cahoots so much as Canvas and me, but we missed him for all o' that. We see some hubby life, off and on, we did ; and if I was a youngster, I'd rather set up in any profession but a circus driver; but a man can't always have his 'drathers. Leastwise, if he could, p'r'aps he would be no better off. We got to loway, as I was say in', and the boss was mighty teary one night. He had a swivel eye, and was hot when he was drunk; and he giv' us partikler deviltry, which no man hankers fur if he don't deserve it, which we didn't; and that night Canvas comes to me and says he, ' Centrepole, I ain't agoin' to sling this cart any more.' And I says to him, 'Why?' No man,' says he, * can drive over me with sharp-corked horses.' Which I knew then he meant to leave the show, and was bound to jine him anyway. And he says to me, 'There's an old pard of mine here and he says as how there's a guv'ment train goin' to start from Omaha next week, and we can get a job there to go out to the Injun country.' ' Well Canvas,' says I, kinder slowly like, ' if you goes, I goes.' * All right,' says he. I couldn't help wishin' 'twas somers else than the Injun country, for I had heerd them critters was lightnin' to fight, and ate up the dead 'uns. It's all well enough to stay at home and talk about it; but when it comes to goin' its a horse of another color .' ' You teamsters have a strange, wandering life. How do you manage to life so ?' * Most fellers as comes out her to work or drive has Tun away from the East for robbin' or murders. And they can't stay in on one place; it haunts them all the time, and they must keep agoin.' But I never did no such thing. Have you ever been in the Injun country ?' * Never in my life; but I have often wished to.' ' You had better stow that, and keep out of it. It's a temptin' Providence and many red devils, to go there. But, as I was sayin', we squared up with the boss—which there wasn't much comin' to us, as there always is, for we was just like sailors, and never had a dollar in-the dunnage box —and it don't take much drinkin' and dancin' and poker to 1 clean a feller out. But we got away from there, and got to Omaha the best we could—there wasn't any railroads in them days—and Canvas and me wasn't long in hiring out ter drive: fur some of them guv'ment sogers—partickly them as has dirty uniforms—has a tarnation smart eye to pick out a feller as knows his biz, and they see at onst as how Canvas and me had saveyed hosses up to the handle—which it was true, though I say it, for Canvas and me had saveyed hosses ever sence we was knee high to a snipe—and some of them drivers didn't know no more about hosses than a dog lyiows the price of hymn books.' ' What made you and Canvas such friends ?' 'Waal, you see, we had paddled together, and was made to go in double harness. Don't you know that Natur' makes everything in pairs? And some men get married—which I never could since that city chap carried off 'Melia — and which is resky, anyhow, 'cause one or t'other is bound to kick over the pole or bust the beeshin'; but there's some as gets to be pards, and them's better nor man and wife. And old Canvas, he ohst saved my life when I was attacked by a euchre-slinger in Chicago, which I sometimes think he didn't ought ter, as I hain't been wuth to nobody.' * But/ said I,' there's always something for a man to do, if he only knows it.' , And the teamster drained the glass, and answered, 'You're right there; but it's lucky if anybody can find it out, if he onst gets down like. You ain't a.gettin tired, are ye ? I'll go through the rest

like the Ten Commandments through a Sunday school.' . 'By no means; it interests me very much.' * Waal, we started on our trip, and was bound for Arizona; twenty-eight waggons; four amb'lances, and two companies of cavalry—a right smart line of us. It ain't very interestin'going' overthe Plains, nothing but sage brush and jackass, rabbit, and deer, and such vermin. And the deserts, where we had to drag- along hubdeep in the sand, water forty miles apart, and no grass nor nothin'—in some of them nights I used to wish to go home again. But Canvas and me was goin' to get gold, and go back rich and see the old folks, but which it can never be. Canvas and me done the'best we could ; we didn't see many Injuns fust along ; onst in a while a few would hang around behind us, or we would see one or two skurry ing up a canon. After we got well away "from the settlements, they tried to stampede the cattle; but we was prepared for them, and they didn't get but a few. It wasn't pleasant for a man to be thinking of Injuns all the time, and many a night as iVe been on guard I thought I see a big 'un underevery bush. My old mother used to read the Scriptur' about 'roarin' lions' and ' seeking to devour,' but that book don't say nothin'about 'Paches, which is very singular, if it makes for to show us how to go. P'r'aps the fellers as wrote it never was in Arizona, and I often thought as how God left that country out of his daybook, as bein' of no account—leastwise, p'r'aps that was the place where the devil squatted when he was jerked out of the garding, as gran'ther used to tell us.' * But the government does it's best there, doesn't it ? Spends millions of money ?' ' Best be blowed ! Young man, d'ye know I think our guv'ment is bilked in them matters. They sends out agents, and bureaus, and comishners, with pockets full of money, and them fellers cheats the Injuns, and cheats the guv'ment, and everybody but themselves; and 'stead of wipin' out the cusses, writes reports and sends home skillets of yarns—how two regiments corralled one squaw, and retired without no loss. But they've got one bully boy there now—Custar—and he's puttie'a head on them Injuns; and he just don't wait for no comishners, but goes for 'em, and plum to the devil goes Mr Injun.' ' I see that some Quakers have been appointed to that department. Don't you think they will succeed ? ' You can just bet high agin it, and bet to win! Did you ever try to keep off bumble bees by givin' on 'em sugar ? Them Territories won't never be wuth nothin' nor safe till them cussed varmints is wiped out. If I was the boss driver of that department, I'd send enough sojers to corral all on 'em, and I'd take every blarsted copper colored thief and hang him up in what trees we could find, till the crows' day of judgment had settled on 'em. But this ain't my story. I guess I'll ile up a little; it runs rayther heavy tonight,' said he, as he filled Jrimself another glass, and continued:— * We camped out one night at the jaw of a canon, ate our suppers, and Canvas and me was on guard together, in the early watch. We used to meet at the end of the walk, and stop a bit and talk. But we had a good look out all the while. It was verydark, and everyone was asleep. By and by, Canvas, says he, " Centre, I'm going up to the spring to get a drink." The spring was about a hundred yards up the gulch, among the bushes. ' Well,' says I, ' don't be long, and if you see anything yell.' A.nd off he went whistlin' softly like to hisself j and I stepped away again. He was gone a. long time—longer than he had any right to—and though I hadn't heerd any noise, I was kind of narvous, as we never knowed how many Injuns might be doggin' us. At last, I couldn't stand it no longer, and I put for the waggons, and waked up Jim Bruce, which was outside, and Bill West, and says I to 'em as how Canvas bad been gone too long, and would they go along of me to look arter him; which they did, being good fellers and never hard to do a good turn, partickly for me and Canvas, which had often helped them to shoe their team when the blacksmith was sick; and we went up to the spring together. You couldn't see a wink, and we darsen't take a light for them thieves to shoot us by, and we softly crawled up to the spring. There was a big Cottonwood tree growin' just aside of. it, and we ran agin' this and somethin' sitting like, leanin' against tho trunk. Canvas, says I, Canvas, my boy, is that you ? And he never made me no reply, but kept as quiet as a skull on a tombstone. Jim Bruce, says 1, just scratch for a lantern ; there's something wrong. I felt of the body, and there was a wet stream upon it. Canvas, says I, what is the matter? and no word. Jim soon fetched a light, and there was Canvas, stone-dead, pinned to the tree by seven arrows. And the thieves had cut off his hands, and put them in his pockets, and cut off his ears and fastened them on his forehead!' Oh! what a vengeful glitter shone in his eye!

* Young man, they say when a woman loses her first young 'un, it breaks her; and as how a lion robbed of her cubs is crazy ; but may you never feel as I did when I saw Canvas—him as had been my pard.; had sot by the same fire, and drank out of the same dipper, and shared his last terbacker with me—when I saw old Canvas, cut up like a sheep, and dead for ever from me. Ten thousand devils was tuggirig at my heart, and I sunk, with a yell, down by his dead side.' The emotion of the stranger almost overpowered him, as he recalled those agony days of the past. 'They told me arterward that my yell roused the camp, and they came rushing out to the spring; but I didn't kuow it then. I was stunned like, and never knew what happened. When morning came they buried Canvas near where ho died. They didn't leave no mound to draw the Injuns; but on that ground I knelt and cried. I don't look as if I could cry, but I did then. Canvas, said I, old pard you're gone! You was thirty-four years old. So help me God, I'll kill an Injun for every year of yours, till I wipe out the score ! They took me away, and for four weeks I was laid in a fever, whinh nighly made me pass in my checks ; but I didn't for I couldn't die till I'd kept my word with Canvas.' 'Young man,' he continued after a pause, ' I left that train at Tuscon, and since that time I've been roamin', roamin'. I have come on this trip to get a little money, and I'm going back. D'ye see this knife?' He pulled out from his belt a huge broad knife, with a wide handle, and handed it to me. In the wood I saw thirteen holes, as if bored with gimlets. 'You see them holes? Every one is a 'Pache. It's my account book, and every Injun I kill, in goes a hole. I've got a good many more to make 'fore I do as I said to Qanvas; but I'm going back, and p'raps I may meet Canvas some day, if I keep my word, which the preacher says is the right lay.' What room there was here for a homily on human vengeance ! But I could not give it. ' Well, you've kindly heard my story, and you're from Maine, thank ye for both. I'm going to turn in.' And with this rough good night, he rolled himself up in his blankets, and the regular breathing soon showed him to be asleep. I had but fitful slumbers until early morning, when the teamster roused me to take his leave, and he disappeared. Nearly a year after, my connections with the mines took me to Tuscon, and while I was there, a scouting party came in with a badly wounded man, who had been with them—not a soldier, but one who was always eager for an Indian fight —and, further than this, nothing wag known of him. Out of curiosity, I went in with the surgeon to see him ; and there was Centrepole Bill. He recognized no one, but kept in a deep stupor, bleeding from internal wounds that could not be staunched. 'He was an awful fighter,* said the doctor, • and has done nothing but follow the scouts.' ' Doctor,' said I, * I know that man.' And as we watched, I told his story. We sat there several hours, and at last the struggle came. The dying man, raising himself on the pallet, looked fixedly at the ceiling, and, in a hoarse voice, said—'There's the show—and Canvas-—' and he fell back dead. I looked afterwards in his belt, and found two knives, and in each of the handles there were seventeen holes. These keepsakes of the man I begged, and have them to this day.