The Cabin on the Prairie Part 6

CHAPTER V.

BROTHER SMITH AND QUARTER STAKES.

"Good morning, Mr. Jones. I suppose we may call this Indian summer--may we not?" and the missionary--for it was he--shook hands with the hunter.

"Scarcely time for it yet," replied the latter. "But this is fine weather, though."

"Shall you be busy to-day? I wish to find a good quarter section of land on which to put up a house. I have been thinking that as I have never pre-empted, and have therefore a right to do so, I may as well do it."

The hunter laughed scornfully, and said,--

"Good many folks about here pre-empt more than once."

"But that is illegal," replied the minister.

"They don't stand about that."

"But they are obliged to take oath at the Land Office that they have never availed themselves of the privilege."

"And they take it."

"But they perjure themselves in doing so."

"Yes."

"Well," said the clergyman, with a sigh, "I can't understand how a person can break the laws and take a false oath for the sake of a little land."

"Nor can I," replied the hunter, almost fiercely; "and I makes no pretensions to _piety_, either. I pre-empted once, and afterwards sold out; and I hev moved about considerable sence; but I have never cheated government out of a cent yet--nor anybody, as to that. I don't own nothing here; this is government land that my cabin sets on, and if it was put up for sale to-day, by the proper authorities, I couldn't say a word if it was sold, improvements and all. I have to take my risk, and I'm contented to, rather than own the biggest farm out doors, and get it by lying under oath. No; they calls Joseph Jones a worthless dog, and _I_ don't say he isn't; but let me tell you, neighbor, that I haven't it on my conscience that I went into the Land Office and lifted up my right hand, solumly promising to speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and then, when I knows that I have pre-empted once, or maybe a number of times, swear that I never hev--as some of your praying, psalm-singing folks has!"

"Do I understand you to say, Mr. Jones, that professing Christians living about here have done this?"

"That's _just_ what I say," replied the hunter; "and I have as much respect for sich whining hypercrites as I have for a hissing adder: that's why I never took much to meetin's, I suppose. What I gits, I gits honest--don't I, pet?" and he caressed his rifle as if it were a living thing, and understood what he said. "I brings home what the good Lord sends inter the woods an' over the prairies fur me. 'The cattle upon a thousand hills are his'--that's Scripter, I believe; and it means, I take it, that the deer, and the elk, and the bear, and the geese and the hens, belong to _him_: n.o.body ken say, '_I_ owns them all,' and keep them for his own use; and when Billy, here,"--patting his gun,--"brings down a fat buck, we feel _honest_ about it--don't we, Bill? 'Tisn't like standing behind the counter with a smerk on yer face, as yer cheat in weight an' measure, or sell sanded sugar for the genuine. Many an' many's the time I've known this done, by them that lives in fine houses, and wears fine clothes, an' goes reg'lar to church; an' if they pa.s.sed Joseph Jones, wouldn't deign to speak to the old hunter. Not that I care about that; I don't deign to speak to them; and if heaven is for _them_, I had just as lieves stay a while outside, for they an' I could never git along together here, and we couldn't be expected to there. But did you want anything perticular of me?"

"I was told," said the missionary, "that none of the settlers understood so well about the land, and where to find the section and quarter section stakes as you; and I thought, if it wouldn't be taking too much of your time, that perhaps you would show me around a little."

"Nothin' would suit my feelings better," said the hunter. "Was there any perticular direction you wish to go to?"

"Brother Smith tells me that here is a fine quarter section still unclaimed;" and the clergyman took from his note-book a roughly-sketched map of the vicinity, purporting to show what was taken up and what was not.

"Did he give you _that_?" asked the hunter, as he ran his eye over the paper.

"Yes; as looking up land is new to me, I was thankful to get some sort of a guide," replied the missionary.

"I don't see much to be thankful for on that drawin'."

"Why, isn't that quarter section free?" inquired the minister, perplexed.

"Yes; an' we'll go an' see it. But are yer goin' afoot?"

The missionary replied affirmatively.

"You'll never stand it in the world, to hunt up land in that way--too much ground to go over. Wife," he added, putting his head in at the door, "you jist entertain the minister, while I see if I ken scare up a team fur him."

Mr. Jones strode off as if he had a congenial errand to do, and striking a "bee line" across the prairie, over a river, through a grove, halted before a cosy cottage that would remind one of New England. The acres and acres of tilled land stretched away from the dwelling, enclosed in the most substantial manner, and sleek cattle, that fed in the rich pasture, bespoke competency and enterprise. He stopped not to knock at the door, but entering, asked of a lady who sat sewing'--

"Is yer husband about, Mrs. Lincoln?"

"Yes; he's in the other room. I'll speak to him."

And in a moment the robust form of the owner of the farm appeared.

"How are you, Jones?" he said, in an offhand way.

"O, I'm nicely. I called on an errand fur yer minister, that you've invited to settle among us. He wants a spot for a cabin,--like the rest of us, I suppose,--and Smith has told him to look at the quarter section way over there, a mile and a half beyond Clark's; you know the place. I jist want to git your team and take him over in a good, Christian way, and not let him travel his legs off, so that he can't preach to us sinners next Sunday."

Mr. Lincoln had been foremost in urging the missionary to cast in his lot with them, and no one had made more promises of material aid than he. He was sincere in this, and was really a generous man, but exceedingly careless. He had been told that the minister was going to look up a claim; but it had never occurred to him, until now, that the preacher had no other conveyance than his feet, and that to walk over the prairies would be a toilsome and time-consuming task. Slapping his caller on the shoulder, he said,--

"Glad to see you interested, Jones; and to encourage you, I'll harness right up, and you may take the span."

The nimble-footed steeds were soon in the buggy; and the hunter, having taken the preacher aboard, was, in good time, pointing out to him the boundaries of the claim. It was a lovely spot,--like many such in Prairiedom,--and the hunter took care that it should be seen to advantage. On a gentle swell of ground was a small gem of a grove, commanding a view of the rest of the section. The fall flowers, many-hued and bright-eyed, nodded gayly in the tall gra.s.s; a natural spring, bursting from the hillock, wound its way along till lost in the distance; the sun was pouring down its rays from a sky fleecy-clouded and soft. How could the preacher, with his pure tastes and cultivated love of the beautiful, help being delighted with the scene?

"This is delightful!" he exclaimed. "I'll build my cottage right here by the side of this spring, and my tilled land will always be in view."

The hunter had antic.i.p.ated his decision, and dryly observed,--

"It wouldn't be no sich place as yer ought to hev."

"Why not?" asked the minister, smiling.

"Do you reckon on keeping a horse?" asked the other.

"No; I couldn't afford that."

"How, then, are you goin' to git to yer appintments, an' to visit the sick an' the dyin', from this pint? And you'll never farm it much; the land looks nice and slick as a gentleman's lawn: this is one of the Lord's lawns, neighbor; but 'twasn't made for you to live on. Don't you expect to hev no evenin' meetin's? You can't hev them out here where there's no live critter but the prairie hins, and maybe in the winter a stray wolf or two. You're a _perfessional_ man, and it's necessary for you to be right among folks, and not livin' off one side, like as if you wanted to keep out the way of company."

This rugged, common-sense way of putting things was quite effective, and the missionary said,--

"You are right. But what can I do? By this chart I find that there is little vacant land about here, and I am unable to purchase an improved farm at the prices at which they are held."

"You don't mean to settle down on _this_--do ye?"

"That is out of the question."

"Well, Joseph Jones isn't of much account, but if he don't show you a bit of land that's been left for jist sich as you, then I lie like that lying chart," he said, angrily. And motioning the preacher to resume his seat in the buggy, the hunter drove back for some distance in the direction from which they had come, then, striking a well-worn cart-path to the right, suddenly emerged from a piece of woods near a river, on the farther bank of which was a saw-mill, and in the stream were men at work strengthening a dam.

"There," said the hunter, "is the centre of things, so fur as this vicinity is concerned. That's the store,"--as he pointed across the river to a small building,--"and a hotel is going up just opposite; and the land sharks and speculators that's going to settle here will want jist sich as you right among 'em, to stir up their consciences, and jog their pure minds by way of remembrance,--as the Book says,--an' not way off there!" pointing contemptuously over his shoulder.

"But brother Smith informs me that all the land near to the town is taken up," said the missionary.