Tales and Trails of Wakarusa Part 2

Cartmill used the lane for a calf pasture in the summer and a place to shoot rabbits in the winter, and always claimed that he had the best of the row.

To this day the lane is a rendezvous for rabbit and quail, and as the country boys tramp through it they thank all the lucky stars for the row between the English and the Irish.

The Conversion of Cartmill

The Berry Creek Methodist church was a religious inst.i.tution. It didn't pretend to have any other purpose nor function than to promote the getting of religion. There was no attempt to provide amus.e.m.e.nts or recreation, nor to make the church organization a club or a cult of any kind or character. The preachers and the members simply preached the old-time religion and insisted that every human being must get religion or go to h.e.l.l. They were not so particular as to whether you joined the church, although it was usually urged that persons having got religion would do so. However, as a protection to the church and to prevent cluttering up their records, it was always provided that no matter how earnestly one professed religion, he must remain on probation for six months before being taken into the church. Experience showed that this was a wise provision, since many who professed religion did not remain steadfast long enough to become members of the church, and therefore the church officials were not compelled to carry them upon their books (if they kept books) as members, nor to indulge in the humiliating process of putting them out of the church because they had become backsliders.

It must be recorded that its ministers did not temporize with sin in any form, and that drinking, card-playing, dancing and other indulgences of worldly men and women were not cla.s.sified as one being more sinful than the other, but all were condemned; and the person seeking religion was urged to put the devil behind him, which meant that he must abandon all self-indulgence and worldly pleasure and dedicate his life to service and sacrifice for good. Their ministers were sometimes embarra.s.sed when called to preach the funeral of some person who had died in sin according to the doctrines of the church; but they were usually more or less resourceful at such times, and without giving way one jot or one t.i.ttle, and without indulging in elasticity of faith, they would manage to give comfort to bereaved friends and relatives, at the same time warning all of the uncertainty of life and the necessity of preparation for death.

The princ.i.p.al activity of the church consisted in holding a revival meeting once a year in the Berry Creek school-house, and during the winter of which this is written the meeting commenced early. Crops had ripened early in the fall, so that the corn was practically all shucked and in the crib by Thanksgiving time; potatoes and other vegetables had been gathered and cared for, and apples stored away in cellars or sealed up in great holes made in the ground. The meeting started off well. For some reason a good attendance was present the first night, and the preacher cl.u.s.tered his sermon and exhortation around the inquiry, "Where will you spend eternity?" It is not an exaggeration to say that during the next day hundreds of people, either directly or by grapevine-method, told others of the eloquence of the minister and of his earnestness, and of the fact that there seemed to be in the atmosphere of the meeting the presence of the Holy Spirit that stirred them all in a wonderful way.

The weather was pleasant and the attendance at the meetings increased, as night after night the revival spirit animated those in attendance. After some days of good weather a rainy period set in, and this continued more than two weeks; but this did not halt the attendance nor dampen the fire that had been kindled at the meetings.

Early in the evening the roads and trails would be full of persons afoot, on horseback, or in wagons, all happy and more or less noisy, making their way through the mud to the little school-house. The building would be crowded, and the windows thrown up so that persons standing on the outside under the eaves could hear and see all that was going on, and occasionally take part in the songs or exclamations which made up more or less of the service.

John MacDonald was trying to teach school during the daytime in the building, but he was having a hard time of it. He was his own janitor, and when he would come to build a fire in the morning and find two or three inches of mud on the floor, and all of his kindling and ready fuel burned up, he would sometimes be exasperated. In fact, one evening at the meeting, among those who stood outside, it was reported that MacDonald had complained to the board, and a new convert expressed the sentiment of those present when he said:

"h.e.l.l, John's all right; but he's a d.a.m.n Presbyterian, and can't be expected to know much about getting religion."

Someone rebuked the speaker for using profanity, since he was one of the converts; and modifying his language, he said:

"I'm durned if it ain't purty hard to quit swearing, but I'm doing the best I can, and I think if this meeting runs on another week I'll be all right."

The meetings continued, and finally the rainy weather suddenly terminated, and the temperature went down lower and lower, until by Christmas time the thermometer showed zero weather, and day after day it was cold enough that sun-dogs followed the sun all day long.

As the weather grew colder the meetings grew warmer. Practically everyone for miles around attended, and the most of them got religion. It was no unusual thing for awkward country lads who had never made a public address, to stand up and in eloquent though trembling voice profess their change of heart and their desire to do right, and without embarra.s.sment exhort their friends to join them.

Modest women who scorned unseemly conduct or notoriety would go up and down the little room urging those whom they knew to take advantage of the promises of G.o.d; and if they did at times shout and cry out, or jump up and down, or throw themselves upon the floor or the bench used for an altar, it was all because of the exaltation of the hour and a part of their good intent and good purpose. A dance in the neighborhood was simply out of the question, and it would have been hard to find a playing-card left unburned; and in their efforts to put away worldly things, many tobacco-soaked men gave up the use of the weed. One night a convert told of his experience in this behalf, and said he had had some awful dreams, and one was that he was sitting on a hill north of the Wakarusa Valley, and that there was a terrible drouth, on account of which the river was dry, and that the devil came to him with a plug of tobacco that reached from him clear over to Carbondale, and that in his weakness he had chewed, and spit in the river, and that he had chewed the entire plug and had spit in the river until it run off as though there had been a terrible rain.

The meeting kept going, and finally Dr. Taylor, who had been counted as an unbeliever, came and got religion and helped in the exhortations. One night in urging the benefits of religion upon an audience, he pointed to George Franks, and said:

"Look, what the religion of Christ has done for Brother Franks. He was a wife-beater and a drunkard----"

Just there Brother Franks interrupted him, and half arising from his seat, he said:

"Brother, not a wife-beater."

The Doctor corrected himself and went on with his ill.u.s.tration, which was just as good without the charge which was denied.

John MacDonald, notwithstanding the incident hereinbefore related, became an attendant at the meeting, and more than once, in his conservative and humorous way, took part and showed his full appreciation of the spirit of reform and revival that pervaded the neighborhood, and his full sympathy with every honest effort to do good and make men lead better lives. And so they came from up and down the valley and everywhere, the rich and the poor, the good and the bad, the conservative and the excitable, and all were melted together in religious effort. It is true that there was sometimes confusion because different persons would insist upon singing their favorite hymn at the same time; but it did not seem out of the way when Mrs. Hughes, in recollection of earlier days in Wales, would sing, "I've Reached the Land of Corn and Wine;" and an old Scotchman would start up "I'm Far Frae My Hame, and I'm Weary Aften Whiles;"

and another would sing "How Firm a Foundation Ye Saints of the Lord;"

and another, "Shall We Gather at the River;" and all liable to be interrupted by a grand old chap who would yell, rather than sing, "It's the Old Time Religion and It's Good Enough for Me."

It is not pa.s.sing strange that many of the youngsters who attended the meeting simply considered the services as entertainment, although in later life in thinking it over they were able to understand that when men and women make up their minds to abandon selfish purposes and do right at all times and in all places they naturally become possessed of the spirit of happiness, of exaltation and praise that easily accounted for the wonderful services held during such a revival.

One day little Tommy Cartmill went to the teacher and said:

"I have lost my revolver somewhere about the school grounds, and if you are at church tonight I wish you would announce it so that if anyone finds it they will return it to me."

MacDonald was amazed that a little chap of thirteen years would be carrying a revolver, and after telling him what he thought about such practice, he said that he would undertake to find the lost weapon by making the announcement requested. That night the teacher made the announcement which he had promised, and this reminded those present that the old man Cart mill had not attended the meeting and was still out in the cold world of sin; and immediately many voices plead with the Lord that Cartmill might see the error of his ways, and that the Spirit might come down upon him, and that he might be saved. Whether because of the power of prayer or of the fact that his name had been mentioned at the meeting, it soon came about that Cartmill attended the services. He was a tall, strong, lanky Irishman, with a bushy head that looked as though it never had been combed, and his quarrels with Franks and other neighbors had made him more or less of a terror. He was entirely too large to use the ordinary school pupil's seat, and he therefore stood up near the door. He gave no indication of his att.i.tude toward the meeting except to make a few scornful remarks now and then on the outside, but about the third night in the midst of a glorious period of exhortation and song he came bolting up the aisle like a mad buffalo; but as he turned around it was seen that tears streamed down his face, and commencing in a broken way, he implored the forgiveness of all whom he had wronged, and begged the prayers and help of all that he might get religion and be saved. Many crowded around him as he talked, and prayed for him, when he finally threw himself over the altar. George Franks and others whom he had terrorized put their arms around him and held to him and prayed for him as though he were the most precious mortal on earth. Finally he announced that the light had come to him, and he stood up to testify.

Among other things he confessed that he had wronged Brother Franks, and he said:

"I have done more than any of yez know. I stole his plow, a new one, that he left in the field; and I didn't stale it to kape it, but I stole it because of the divil that was in me; and I threw it in the Wakarusa in the dape hole by the big sycamore tree."

This and many other confessions he made. The meeting held till far in the night, and after it had broken up one could hear people on their way home talking loud of what a glorious meeting it had been, and an occasional voice would praise the Lord for his power to forgive and wipe out sin. The next day some st.u.r.dy youngsters cut the ice in the deep hole, where it was more than a foot thick, and hooked and grappled around in the water until they found the lost plow, and they pulled it out and carried it home to Franks. So it was that the confession was verified, and a real loss restored and made good by the influence of religion.

It matters not whether the church books ever showed that Cartmill remained steadfast until he became a member, but it must be recorded that he did get religion, and that his religion changed, influenced and made better his life, and that from that time forward no man in the whole community was less to be feared or was more helpful or considerate in his dealings or contact with his neighbors.

A Fourth of July Speech

A few of the neighbors held a meeting to arrange for a Fourth of July picnic that was to be held in the grove near the big spring that breaks through the rocky banks of the Wakarusa one and a half miles below the stone bridge, and they had quite a dispute over whether they would invite John Martin or Joseph G. Waters to make the speech.

An old mossback Democrat insisted that they have Martin. He said that Martin was a real Jeffersonian Democrat, and knew more about what the Fourth of July was made for than anybody else. A couple of younger men in the crowd insisted on having Joe Waters. They said that Joe was a Republican sure enough, but not Republican enough to hurt, and that he made a stem-windin' good speech. After considerable wrangle it was decided to invite Joe, and he consented to make the talk.

On the morning of the Fourth, along all the trails and roads people traveled, finding their way to the grove; and just about noon Captain Waters arrived with a livery team and buggy, with a negro boy driving; and he drove smas.h.i.+ng and stomping in a reckless manner all around among the trees, almost running over some of the dinner baskets that were set about on the ground. The Captain took charge from the time he arrived. Everything that was done, he had to tell how to do it. One old woman had built a little fire between a couple of rocks to make some coffee, and he went up to her and told her that it was just as fair to drink coffee on the Fourth of July as on Christmas, and that he knew more about making coffee than the man who invented it. And in spite of her protests he made the coffee, and, of course, was welcome to help drink it.

After dinner, they backed a wagon up to an open place on the ground where some seats had been arranged, and Joe jumped in, and then reached for and pulled at the old man Kosier, who climbed up and called the crowd to order, made a few remarks on his own account, and then introduced and started off the Captain.

Joe stretched up his arms and called loudly for everyone to draw near. He said that he proposed to ask some questions and find out some things before he decided whether he would make a speech to such a crowd. "First," he said, "I want to know why you call that man Big Aaron Coberly, and that one Little Aaron;" and as he spoke he pointed to Aaron, Senior, who weighed one hundred and forty pounds, and then to Aaron, Junior, who weighed two hundred and forty. An old lady's voice, cracked, but earnest, piped up:

"Big Aaron used to be the biggest--he was grown up when little Aaron was a baby."

"Fair enough," said Joe; and everybody laughed.

"Another thing," said Joe, "I want to know whether you people are up on figures or whether you are a bunch of joshers. I heard d.i.c.k Disney ask c.o.ker what he would take for his lower eighty, and c.o.ker said he would take sixteen hundred dollars for it. d.i.c.k said he'd be d.a.m.ned if he'd give it--he would give twenty dollars per acre and no more.

c.o.ker told him to go to h.e.l.l; and just then Wash Berry, Bill Cartmill and a half a dozen others crowded around and told them they ought to compromise. This talk was pulled off within ten feet of me," said Joe in a loud voice, "and I want to know if you think you can play horse with me, or is it possible you're all crazy in your arithmetic?"

A youngster yelled, "It's you 'at's crazy," and ran off through the woods.

After several further inquiries of this character the Captain said he was satisfied, and would go on with his talk.

It was a great day for Joe, and the people too; and there are some of them now who remember different portions of his speech, and especially one part that was more or less prophetic of the destiny of our country and of the fact that our soldiers might have to serve across the seas. This part was as follows:

"If I see the flag in unending line flung high up the city's wall, s.h.i.+ning and s.h.i.+mmering all day long, it is my flag, bless G.o.d! If far out on the bleak desert, parched, barren and desolate, I see it fluff and flutter about the white adobe walls of the fort, it is my flag.

If far at sea beneath the unclouded sky, the sun silvering the endless billows, it rises out of the eternal depths in its rippling folds, my blood may chill, my eyes may fill, my heart may still, for it is my flag that crests the ocean. If in a strange and alien land, alone, solitary and homesick, the pomp of royalty on every hand, suddenly there should burst in view, way up the shaded avenue, the glory, red and white and blue, oh, for the Kaiser and his crown, on me and mine to then look down, I'd lift my head and proudly say, 'That is my flag you see today, and isn't it a dandy, eh?' And I would tell his ermined queen, of all the heavens and earth between, it is the grandest thing that flies, o'er land or sea, beneath the skies! And as the years may go, as falls the snow, as flowers may blow, come weal or woe, that banner is my flag, I know."

At the close of the day, the chairman of the committee was heard to remark:

"Well, considerin' as how Joe wouldn't take any pay, and insisted on paying for the livery horses himself, and then bought out the stand of all the candy and cigars and give it all away among the crowd--I guess we got our money's worth."

The Phantom Fisherman and Other Ghosts

One morning in early June a ten-year-old lad, having been given a half-holiday, dug a fine mess of luscious worms, put them in a tin can with plenty of good dirt, and started off up Berry Creek to fish for bullheads and sunfish. He went through the papaw patch and cut a nice long pole, and took time to fix his line on it in good shape, and to see that his cork, sinker, and hook were all right. He then went on through the woods, crossed the big ravines, and climbed around the rocky cliffs, making his way to the spot designated among the boys as the "bullhead hole." This was and is the best place on earth to fish for bullheads, and the boy knew it, and it was there he wanted to commence the day's sport. Finally he climbed over the last ledge, forced his way through the brush and came in sight of his favorite place, and, to his astonishment, he found an aged, peculiar looking man sitting under the old sycamore tree in the very spot where he had planned to be. He walked slowly up to a place as near the old man as good manners would permit, unwound his line and put on a good lively worm and commenced.

The old man paid no attention to him whatever, and, on watching him closely, the boy noticed that he was fis.h.i.+ng for minnows with a pin-hook fastened to a thread, and this tied to a crooked stick. He put the minnows he caught into a tin bucket which was sitting at his feet, partially full of water. As soon as the boy noticed what he was doing, he set his pole and went up to him and offered to take off his s.h.i.+rt and help him seine for minnows with it. The old man looked up and said: