 INTRODUCTION OF SELECTED STORIES BY BRETT HEART This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. RECORDING BY GZENA SELECTED STORIES BY BRETT HEART INTRODUCTION The life of Bret Hart divides itself, without adventitious forcing, into four quite distinct parts. First, we have the precocious boyhood, with its eager response to the intellectual stimulation of cultured parents. Young Bret Hart assimilated Greek with amazing facility, devoured voraciously the works of Shakespeare, Dickens, Irving, Forsar, Cervantes, Fielding, and, with creditable success, attempted various forms of composition. Then, compelled by economic necessity, he left school at thirteen and for three years worked first in a lawyer's office and then in a merchant's counting house. The second period, that of his migration to California, includes all that is permanently valuable of Hart's literary output. Arriving in California in 1854, he was, successively, a schoolteacher, drugstore clerk, express messenger, typesetter and itinerant journalist. He worked for a while on the Northern California, from which he was dismissed for objecting editorially to the contemporary California sport of murdering Indians. And then on the Golden Era, 1857, where he achieved his first moderate acclaim. In this latter year, he married Anne Griswold of New York. In 1864, he was given the secretory ship of the California Mint, a virtual sinecure, and was enabled to do a great deal of writing. The first volume of his poems, The Lost Galleon and Other Tales, Condensed Novels, Much Underrated Parodies, and The Bohemian Papers, were published in 1867. One year later, the Overland Monthly, which had aspirations of becoming the Atlantic Monthly of the West, was established and Hart was appointed its first editor. For it, he wrote most of what still remains valid as literature, the lack of roaring camp, the outcasts of poker flat, plain language from Trifle James, among others. The combination of Irving-esque romantic glamour and Dickensian bittersweet humour applied to picturesquely novel material, with the addition of a trick ending was fantastically popular. Editors began to clamour for his stories. The University of California appointed him Professor of Recent Literature, and the Atlantic Monthly offered him the practically unprecedented sum of $10,000 for exclusive rights to one year's literary output. Hart's star was, briefly, in the Ascendant. However, Hart had accumulated a number of debts, and his editorial policies, excellent in themselves, but undiplomatically executed, were the cause of a series of arguments for the publisher of the Overland Monthly. Fairly assured of profitable pickings in the East, he left California permanently, as it proved. The East, however, was financially unappreciative. Hart wrote an unsuccessful novel and collaborated with Mark Twain on an unremunerative play. His attempts to increase his income by lecturing were even less rewarding. From his departure from California in 1872 to his death 30 years later, Hart's struggles to regain financial stability were unremitting, and to these efforts is due the relinquishment of his earlier deal of a peculiarly characteristic Western American literature. Henceforth Hart accepted, as Professor Hicks remarks, the role of entertainer and as an entertainer he survived for 30 years his death as an artist. The final period extends from 1878, when he managed to get himself appointed consul to Krefeld in Germany, to 1902, when he died of a throat cancer. He left for Krefeld without his wife or son, perhaps intending, as his letters indicate, to call them to him when circumstances allowed, but save for a few years prior to his death, the separation, for whatever complex of reasons, remained permanent. Hart, however, continued to provide for them as liberally as he was able. In Krefeld, Hart wrote A Legend of Samerstand, Views from a German Spion, and Unser Karl. In 1880 he transferred to the more lucrative consulship of Glasgow, and Robin Gray, a tale of Scottish life, is the product of his stay there. In 1885 he was dismissed from his consulship, probably for political reasons, though neglect of duty was charged against him. He removed to London, where he remained for most part, until his death. Brett never really knew the life of the mining camp. His mining experiences were too fragmentary, and consequently his portraits of mining life are wholly impressionistic. No one, Mark Twain wrote, can talk the quartz starlet correctly without learning it with pick and shovel and drill in fuse. Yet Twain added elsewhere. Brett Hart got his California and his Californians by unconscious absorption, and put both of them into his tales alive. That is, perhaps, the final comment. Much could be urged against Hart's stories. The glamour they throw over the life they depict is largely fictitious. Their pathetic endings are obviously stylised, their technique is overwhelmingly derivative. Nevertheless, so excellent a critic as Chesterton maintained that there are more than 999 excellent reasons which we could all have for admiring the work of Brett Hart. The figures perhaps exaggerated, but there are many reasons for admiration. First, Hart originated a new and inculculably influential type of story, the romantically picturesque human interest story. He created the local colour story, Professor Blankenship remarks, or at least popularised it, and he gave new form and intent to the short story. Character motivating action is central to this type of story rather than mood dominating incident. Again Hart's style is really an eminently skillful one, admirably suited to his subjects. He can manage the humourous or the pathetic excellently, and his restraint in each is more remarkable than his excesses. His sentences have both force and flow, his backgrounds are crisply but carefully sketched, his characters and caricatures have their own logical consistency. Finally, granted the desirability of the theatrical finale, it is necessary to admit that Hart always rings down his curtain dramatically, undefectively. Arthur Zeiger, MA. End of introduction. Recorded by Gazine in September 2007. The luck of Roaring Camp. There was commotion in Roaring Camp. It could not have been a fight for an 1850 that was not novel enough to have called together the entire settlement. The digits and clays were not only deserted, but Tuttle's grocery had contributed its gamblers, who it will be remembered, calmly continued their game the day that French Pete and Kanaka Joe shot each other to death over the bar in the front room. The whole camp was collected before a rude cabin on the outer edge of the clearing. Conversation was carried out in a low tone, but the name of a woman was frequently repeated. It was a name familiar enough in the camp, Cherokee Sal. Perhaps the less said or further better. She was a coercer and it is to be feared a very sinful woman. But at that time she was the only woman in Roaring Camp. It was just then lying and sore extremity, when she most needed the ministration of her own sex. Dissolute, abandoned and irreclaimable. She was yet suffering a martyrdom hard enough to bear, even in way by sympathizing womanhood. But now terrible in her loneliness. The primal curse had come to her, in that original isolation which must have made the punishment of the first transgression so dreadful. It was perhaps part of the expiation of her sin, that at the moment when she most lacked her sexist, intuitive tenderness and care, she made only the half-contemptious face of her masculine associates. Yet a few of the spectators were, I think, touched by her sufferings. Sandy Tipton thought it was rough on sale. And in the contemplation of her condition, for a moment rose superior to the fact that he had an ace and two bowers in his sleeve. It will be seen also that the situation was novel. Deaths were by no means uncommon in Roaring Camp, but a birth was a new thing. People had been dismissed in the camp effectively, finally, and with no possibility of return. But this was the first time that anybody had been introduced up an issue, hence the excitement. You go in there, Stumpy, said a prominent citizen known as Kentuck, addressing one of the loungers. Go in there and see what you can do. You've had experience in them things. Perhaps there was a fitness in the selection. Stumpy and other climbs had been the putative head of two families. In fact, it was owing to some legal informality in these proceedings that Roaring Camp, a city of refuge, was indebted to his company. The crowd approved the choice, and Stumpy was wise enough to bow to the majority. The door closed on the extemporal surgeon and midwife, and Roaring Camp sat down outside, smoked its pipe, and evaded the issue. The assemblage numbered about a hundred men. One or two of these were actual fugitives from justice. Some were criminal, and all were reckless. Physically, they exhibited no indication of their past lives and character. The greatest scamp had a Raphael face with a profusion of blonde hair. Oakhurst, the gambler, had the mollicolor air and intellectual abstraction of a hamlet. The coolest and most courageous man was cast over five feet in height with a soft voice and embarrassed timid manner. The term roughs applied to them was a distinction rather than a definition. Perhaps in the minor details of fingers, toes, ears, etc., the camp may have been deficient. But these slight omissions did not detract from the aggregate force. The strongest man had but three fingers on his right hand. The best shot had but one eye. Such was the physical aspect of the man that were dispersed around the cabin. The camp lay in the triangular valley between two hills and a river. The only outlet was a steep trail over the summit of a hill that faced the cabin, now illuminated by the rising moon. The suffering woman might have seen it from the rude bunk whereon she lay, seen it winding like a silver thread until it was lost in the stars above. A fire of withered pine boughs added sociability to the gathering. By degrees, natural levity of roaring camp returned. Betsere freely offered and taken regarding the result. 3-5 that Sel would get through with it. Even that the child would survive. Side-bats added to the sex and complexion of the coming stranger. In the midst of an excited discussion, an exclamation came from those nearest the door and the camp stopped to listen. Above the swaying and moaning of the pines, the swift rush of the river and the crackling of the fire, wrote a sharp, credulous cry, a cry unlike anything heard before in the camp. The pines stopped moaning, the river ceased to rush and the fire to crackle. It seemed as if nature had stopped to listen to. The camp rose to its feet as one man. It was proposed to explode a barrel of gunpowder, but in consideration of the situation of the mother, better counts were prevailed and only a few revolvers were discharged. For whether owing to the rude surgery of the camp or some other reason, Cherokee Sel was sinking fast. Within an hour she had climbed as it were that rugged road that led to the stars and so passed out of roaring camp its sin and shame forever. I do not think that the announcement disturbed them much, except in speculation as to the fate of the child. Can you live now? was asked of Stumpy. The answer was doubtful. The only other being of Cherokee Sel's sex and maternal condition in the settlement was an ass. There was some conjecture as to fitness, but the experiment was tried. It was less problematical than the ancient treatment of Romulus and Remus and apparently as successful. When these details were completed, which exhausted another hour, the door was opened and the ancient crowd of men who had already formed themselves into a queue entered in single file. Beside the low bunk or shelf on which the figure of the mother was starkly outlined below the blankets, stood a pine table. On this a candle box was placed and within it, swayed in staring red flannel lay the last arrival at roaring camp. Beside the candle box was placed ahead, its use was soon indicated. Gentleman said Stumpy, with a singular mixture of authority and exoficial complacency, gentlemen will please pass in at the front door, round the table and out at the back door. Them as wishes to contribute anything towards the orphan will find ahead handy. The first men entered with his head on. He uncovered, however, as he looked about him and so unconsciously set an example to the next. In such communities, good and bad actions are catching. As the procession filed in, comments were audible. Criticisms addressed perhaps rather to Stumpy and the character of Showman. Is that him? Quite a small specimen. Hasn't Morrin got the color? Ain't Bigot nor Derringer? The contributions were as characteristic. A silver tobacco box. A doubloon. A navy revolver. Silver mounted. A gold specimen. A very beautifully embroidered ladies handkerchief. From Oakhurst the gambler. A diamond breastpin. A diamond ring suggested by the pin, with a remark from the giver that, he saw that pin and went two diamonds better. A slung shot. A Bible. Contributor not detected. A golden spur. A silver teaspoon. The initials I regret to say were not the givers. A pair of surgeon's chairs. A lancet. A bank of England note for five pounds. And about two hundred dollars in loose golden silver coin. During this proceedings Stumpy maintained a silence as impassive as dead on his left. A gravity as inscrutable as that of the newly born on his right. Only one incident occurred to break the monotony of the curious procession. As Kentuck bent over the candle box, half curiously, the child turned, and in the spasm of pain, caught at his grope in finger and held it fast for a moment. Kentuck looked foolish and embarrassed. Something like a blush tried to assert itself in his weather-beaten cheek. The damned little cuss, he said, as he extricated his finger, with perhaps more tenderness and care than he might have been deemed capable of showing. He held that finger a little apart from his fellows as he went out and examined it curiously. The examination provoked the same original remark in regard to the child. In fact, he seemed to enjoy repeating it. He rested with my finger, a remark to tip and holding up the member. The damned little cuss. It was four o'clock before the camp soldier posed. A light burned at the cabin where the watcher sat, for Stumpy did not go to bed that night, nor did Kentuck. He drank quite freely and related with great gusto his experience, invariably ending with his characteristic condemnation of the newcomer. It seemed to relieve of any unjust implication of sentiment, and Kentuck had the weaknesses of the nobler sex. When everybody else had gone to bed, he walked down the river and whistled reflectingly. Then he walked up the gulch past the cabin, still whistling with demonstrative unconcern. At a large redwood tree he paused and retraced the steps, and again passed the cabin. Halfway down to the river's bank he again paused and then returned and knocked at the door. It was opened by Stumpy. How goes it said Kentuck, looking past Stumpy towards the candle-box. All serene replied Stumpy. Anything up? Nothing. There was a pause and embarrassing one. Stumpy still holding the door. Then Kentuck had recourse to his finger which he held up to Stumpy. He wrestled with it. The damned on the cuss, he said, and retired. The next day Cherokee sailed at such roots of culture as Roaring Camp afforded. After a body had been committed to the hillside, there was a formal meeting of the camp to discuss what should be done with her infant. A resolution to adopt was unanimous and enthusiastic, but an animated discussion in regard to the manner and feasibility of providing for its wants at once sprang up. It was remarkable that the argument partook of none of those fierce personalities with which discussions were usually conducted at Roaring Camp. Tipton proposed that they should send the child to Red Dog, a distance of 40 miles, where female attention could be procured, and the unlucky suggestion met with fears and unanimous opposition. It was evident that no plan which entailed parting from the new acquisition would for a moment be entertained. Besides, said Tom Ryder, the fellow at Red Dog would swap it and ring in somebody else on us. A disbelief in the honesty of other camps prevailed at Roaring Camp as in other places. The introduction of a female nurse in the camp also met with objection. It was argued that no decent woman could be prevailed to accept Roaring Camp as her home, and the speaker urged that they didn't want any more of the other kind. This unkind allusion to the defunct mother, Hasha the same may seem, was the first spasm of propriety, the first symptom of the camp's regeneration. Stumpy advanced nothing. Perhaps he felt a certain delicacy in interfering with the selection of a possible successor in office. But when questioned, he averaged stoutly that he and Ginny, the mammal before alluded to, could manage to rear the child. There was something original, independent and heroic about the plan that pleased the camp. Stumpy was retained. Certain articles were sent for the Sacramento. Mind set the treasurer as he pressed a bag of gold dust into the expressman's hand. The best that can be got, lazily know, and filigree worked, and thrills damned the cost. Strange to say, the child thrived. Perhaps the invigorating climate of the mountain camp was compensation for material deficiencies. Nature took the founding to a broader breast. In that rare atmosphere of the Sierra foothills, that air pungent with balsamic odor, that ethereal cordial at once bracing and exhilarating, he may have found food and nourishment, or a subtle chemistry that transmuted ass milk to lime and phosphorus. Stumpy inclined to the belief that it was a letter and good nursing. Me and that ass, he would say, has been father and mother to him. Don't you, he would add, apostrophizing the helpless bundle before him would never go back on us. By the time he was a month old, the necessity of giving him a name became apparent. He had generally been known as the kid, Stumpy's boy, the coyote, an allusion to his vocal powers, and even by Kentuck's endearing diminutive of the damn little cuss. But these were felt to be vague and unsatisfactory, and were at last dismissed under other influence. Gamers and adventurers are generally superstitious, and O'Cursed one day declared that the baby had brought the luck to a roaring camp. It was certain that of late they had been successful. Luck was the name agreed upon to the prefix of Tommy for greater convenience. No illusion was made to the mother, and the father was unknown. It's better, said the philosophical O'Cursed, to take a fresh deal all around. Call him luck and start him fair. A day was accordingly set apart for the christening. What was meant by the ceremony, the reader may imagine who has already guarded some idea of the reckless irreverence of roaring camp. The master of ceremonies was one Boston, a noted wag, and the occasion seemed to promise the greatest facetiousness. This ingenious setarist had spent two days in preparing a burlesque of the church service, with pointed local illusions. The choir was properly trained, and Sandy Tipton was to stand godfather. But after the procession had marched to the grove with music and banners, the child had been deposited before a mock altar, stumpy stepped before the expecting crowd. It ain't my style to spoil fun boys, said the little man's doubly, eyeing the faces around him. But it strikes me that this thing ain't exactly on the score. It's playing it pretty low down on this year baby to ring in fun on him, that he ain't going to understand. And if there's going to be any godfather's round, I'd like to see who's got any better rights than me. The silence followed stumpy's speech. To the credit of a humorist, Beatt said that the first man to acknowledge it was a setarist thus stopped of his fun. But, said stumpy quickly following opposite vantage, we're here for a christening, and we'll have it. I proclaim you, Thomas Luck, according to the laws of the United States and the state of California, so help me God. It was the first time that the name of the deity had been otherwise uttered than profanely in the camp. The form of christening was perhaps even more ludicrous than a setarist had conceived. But strangely enough, nobody saw it, and nobody loved. Tommy was christened as seriously as he would have been under a christian roof, and cried, and was comforted in as orthodox fashion. And so the work of regeneration began on the roaring camp. Almost imperceptibly, a change came over the settlement. The cabin assigned to Tommy Luck, or the Luck as he was more frequently called, first showed signs of improvement. It was kept superlatively clean and whitewashed, that it was boarded, clothed, and papered. The rosewood cradle, packed 80 miles by mule, had in Stumpy's way of putting it, sought to kill the rest of the furniture. So the rehabilitation of the cabin became a necessity. The men, who were in the habit of lounging in at Stumpy's to see how the Luck out on, seemed to appreciate the change, and in self-defense the rival establishments of Tuttle's grocery bestowed itself and deported the carpet and mirrors. The reflection of the letter on the appearance of roaring camp tended to produce stricter habits of personal cleanliness. Again Stumpy imposed a kind of quarantine, upon those who aspire to the honor and privilege of holding the Luck. It was a cruel modification to Kentuck, when the carelessness of a large nature and the habits of frontier life had begun to regard all garments as second cuticle, which like a snake's only slowed off through decay, to be debarred as privilege from certain prudential reasons. Yet such was the subtle influence of innovation, that he thereafter appeared regularly, every afternoon, in the clean shirt and face, still shining from his ablutions. Nor were moral and social sanitary laws neglected. Tommy, who was supposed to spend his whole existence in a persistence attempt to repose, must not be disturbed by noise. The shouting and yelling which had gained the camp at some infillicitous title were not permitted within hearing distance of Stumpy's. The man conversed and whispers a smoke with Indian gravity. Profanity was tacitly given up in these sacred precincts and throughout the camp a popular form of expletive known as Damn the Luck and Curse the Luck was abandoned as having a new personal bearing. Vocal music was not interdicted, being supposed to have a soothing tranquilizing quality, and one song sung by Mena Ward Jack, an English sailor from Her Majesty's Australian colonies, was quite popular as a lullaby. It was a lugubrious recital of the exploits of the Arathusa 74 in a muffled minor, ending with a prolonged dying fall at the burden of each verse, on board of the Arathusa. It was a fine sight to see Jack holding the Luck rocking from side to side as if with emotion of a ship and cruelling forth his naval ditty. Either through the peculiar rocking of Jack or the length of the song that contained 19 stanza, it was continued with a consensuous deliberation to the bitter end. The lullaby generally had the desired effect. At such times the man would lie at full length under the trees in the soft summer twilight, smoking their pipes and drinking in the melodious utterances. An indistinct idea that this was pastoral happiness pervaded the camp. This error kind of thing, said the cockney Simmons, meditatively reclining on his elbow, is evingly. It reminded him of Greenwich. On the long summer days the Luck was usually carried to the gulch from whence the gold-stove roaring camp was taken. There on the blanket spread over pine boughs he would lie while the man were working in the ditches below. Laterally there was a rude attempt to decorate this bower with flowers and sweet-smelling shrubs, and generally someone would bring him a cluster of wild honey-suckles at Salias or the painted blossoms of Las Maris posas. The man had suddenly awakened to the fact that there was beauty and significance in these trifles, which they so long had trodden carelessly beneath their feet. A flake of glittering meeker, a fragment of variegated quartz, a bright pebble from the bed of the creek, became beautiful to eyes thus cleared and strengthened, and were invariably put aside for the Luck. It was wonderful how many treasures the woods and hillsides yielded that would do for Tommy. Surrounded by playthings such as never child out of fair land had before, it is to be hoped that Tommy was content. He appeared to be serenely happy, albeit there was an infantile in gravity about him, a contemplative light in the round grey eyes that sometimes were stumpy. He was always tractable and quiet, and it is recorded that once, having crept beyond his corral, a hedge of tessellated pine boughs which surrounded his bed, he dropped over the bank on his head in the soft earth and remained with his modest legs in the air in that position for at least five minutes with unflinching gravity. He was extricated without a murmur. I hesitate to record the many other instances of his sagacity, addressed, unfortunately, upon the statements of prejudiced friends. Some of them were not without tinge of superstition. I crept out of the bank just now set Kentuck one day in a breathless state of excitement and darned my skin if he wasn't talking to a jay bird as was sitting on his lap. There they were just as free as sociable as anything you please, enjoying at each other just like two cherry bumps. How be it? Were the creeping over the pine boughs or lying lazily on his back blinking at the leaves above him? To him the bird sang, the squirrels chattered, and the flowers bloomed. Nature was a snersen playfellow. For him she would let sleep between the leaves golden shafts of sunlight that fell just within his grasp. She would send wandering breezes to wither him with a balm of bay and resinous gum. To him the tall red was knotted familiarly and sleepily. The bumblebees buzzed and the rooks cored with slumberous accompaniment. Such was the golden summer of roaring camp. They were flushed times and the luck was with them. The acclaims had yielded enormously. The camp was jealous of its privileges and looked suspiciously on strangers. No encouragement was given to immigration and to make the seclusion more perfect, the land on either side of the mountain wall that surrounded the camp they duly preempted. This and the reputation for singular proficiency with a revolver kept the reserve of roaring camp inviolate. The expressmen, their only connecting link with the surrounding world, sometimes told wonderful stories of the camp. He would say, they've a street up there in roaring. They would lay over any street in red dog. They've got vines and flowers around their houses and they wash themselves twice a day. But they were mighty rough on strangers and their worship an engine baby. With the prosperity of the camp came a desire for further improvement. It was proposed to build a hotel in the following spring and to invite one or two decent families to reside there for the sake of the luck, who might perhaps profit by female companionship. The sacrifice that this concession to the sex caused the man, who was fiercely skeptical in regard to his general virtue and usefulness, can only be accounted for by their affection for Tommy. A few still held out, but the resolve could not be carried into effect for three months and the minority meekly yielded in the hope that something might turn up to prevent it. And it did. The winter of 1851 will long be remembered in the foothills. The snow lake deep on the sierras and each mountain creek became a river and each river a lake. Each gorge and gulch was transformed into a tumultuous water course that descended the hill sides, tearing down giant trees and scattering its drift and debris along the plain. Red dog had been twice underwater and roaring camp had been forewarned. Water put gold into them gulch as it stumpy. It'd been here once and will be here again. And that night the North Fork suddenly leaped over its banks and swept up the triangular valley of roaring camp. The infusion of rushing water, crashing trees and crackling timber and the darkness which seemed to flow with the water and blot out the fair valley but little could be done to collect the scattered camp. When the morning broke, the cabin of stumpy nearest the river bank was gone. Higher up the gulch they found the body of its unlucky owner, but the pride, the hope, the joy, the luck of roaring camp had disappeared. They were returning with sad hearts when the shout from the bank recalled them. It was a relief boat from down the river. They had picked up, they said, a man and an infant nearly exhausted about two miles below. Did anyone know them? Did they belong here? It needed but a glance to show them can tuck lying there, cruelly crushed and bruised but still holding the luck of roaring camp in his arms. As they bent over the strangely assorted pair, they saw that the child was cold and heartless. He's dead, said one. Kentuck opened his eyes. Dead? He repeated feebly. Yes, my man, and you are dying too. A smile lit the eyes of the expiring Kentuck. Dying? He repeated. He's taking me with him. Tell the boys I've got the luck with me now. And the strong man, clinging to the frail babe as a drowning man is said to cling to a straw, drifts away into the shadowy river that flows forever to the non-own sea. End of the luck of roaring camp. Recording by Theo Bacha. The outcasts of poker flat in selected stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This reading by Lucy Burgoyne. Selected stories by Brett Hart. The Outcasts of Poker Flat. As Mr John Oakhurst, gambler, stepped into the main street of Poker Flat on the morning of the 23rd of November, 1850, he was conscious of a change in its moral atmosphere since the preceding night. Two or three men conversing earnestly together seized as he approached and in changed significant glances. There was a sabbath lull in the air which, in a settlement unused to sabbath influences, looked ominous. Mr Oakhurst's calm, handsome face betrayed small concern in these indications. Whether he was conscious of any predisposing cause was another question. I reckon there are to somebody he reflected, likely it's me. He returned to his pocket the handkerchief with which he had been wiping away the red dust of poker flat from his neat boots and quietly discharged his mind of any further conjecture. In point of fact, poker flat was after somebody. It had lately suffered the loss of several thousand dollars, two valuable horses, and a prominent citizen. It was experiencing a spasm of virtuous reaction, as lawless and ungovernable as any of the acts that had provoked it. A secret committee had determined to rid the town of all improper persons. This was done permanently in regard of two men who were then hanging from the boughs of a sycamore in the gulch and temporarily in the banishment of certain other objectionable characters. I regret to say that some of these were ladies. It is but due to the sex, however, to state that their impropriety was professional and it was only in such easily established standards of evil that poker flat ventured to sit in judgment. Mr. Ochurst was right in supposing that he was included in this category. A few of the committee had urged hanging him as a possible example, an assured method of reimbursing themselves from his pockets at the sums he had won from them. It's again justice, said Jim Wheeler, to let this year young man from Roaring Camp, an entire stranger, carry away our money. But a crude sentiment of equity being in breasts of those who had been fortunate enough to win from Mr. Ochurst overruled this narrower local prejudice. Mr. Ochurst received his sentence with philosophic calmness, nonetheless coolly that he was aware of the hesitation of his judges. He was too much of a gambler not to accept fate. With him life was at best an uncertain game and he recognised the usual percentage in favour of the dealer. A body of armed men accompanied the deported wickedness of poker flat to the outskirts of the settlement. Besides Mr. Ochurst, who was known to be a coolly, desperate man and for whose intimidation the armed escort the exasperated party consisted of a young woman, familiarly known as the Duchess, another who had won the title of Mother Shipton and Uncle Billy a suspected sluice robber and confirmed drunkard. The calbecade provoked no comments from the spectators, nor was any word uttered by the escort. Only when the gulch was marked the utter most limit of poker flat was reached. The leaders spoke briefly and to the point the exiles were forbidden to return at the peril of their lives. As the escort disappeared their pent up feelings found vent in a few hysterical tears from the Duchess, some bad language from Mother Shipton and a party of expletives from Uncle Billy. The philosophic Ochurst alone remained silent. He listened calmly to Mother Shipton's desire to cut somebody's heart out to the repeated statements of the Duchess that she would die in the road and to the alarming oaths that seemed to be bumped out of Uncle Billy as he rode forward. With these eagerness and humor characteristic of his class he insisted upon exchanging his own riding horse, Five Spot, for the sorry mule which the Duchess rode. But even this act did not draw the party into any closer sympathy. The young woman registered her somewhat draggled plumes with a feeble faded coquetry. Mother Shipton eyed the dresser of Five Spot with malevolence and Uncle Billy included the whole party in one sweeping and Athena. The rode to Sandy Bar a camp that not having as yet experienced the regenerating influences of poker flat consequently seemed to offer some invitation to the immigrants laying over a steep mountain range. It was distant a day's severe travel. In that advanced season the party soon passed out of the moist temperate regions of the foothills into the dry cold bracing air of the Sierras. The trail was narrow and difficult. At noon the Duchess rolling out of her saddle upon the ground declared her intention of going no farther and the party halted. The spot was singularly wild and impressive. A wooded amphitheater surrounded on three sides by perceptuous cliffs of naked granite sloped gently toward the crest of another precipice that overlooked the valley. It was undoubtedly the most suitable spot for a camp being advisable. But Mr. O'Cursed knew that scarcely half the journey to Sandy Bar was accomplished and the party were not equipped or provisioned for delay. This fact he pointed out to his companions curtly with a philosophic commentary on the folly of throwing up their hand before the game was played out but they were furnished with liquor which in this emergency stood them in place of food, fuel, rest and prescience. In spite of these reminiscences it was not long before they were more or less under its influence. Uncle Billy passed rapidly from a Balaco state into one of Stupa. The Duchess became modern and Mother Shipton snored. Mr. O'Cursed alone remained erect leaning against a rock calmly surveying them. Mr. O'Cursed did not drink. It interfered with the profession which required coolness, impassiveness and presence of mind and in his own language he couldn't afford it. As he gazed at his recumbent fellow exiles the loneliness begotten of his very atrade. His habits of life his very vices for the first time seriously oppressed him. He bestowed himself in dusting his black clothes washing his hands and face and other acts characteristic of his studiously neat habits and for a moment forgot his annoyance. The thought of deserting his weaker and more pitiable companions never perhaps occurred to him yet he could not help feeling the want of that excitement which, singly enough, was most conducive to that calm equanimity for which he was notorious. He looked at the gloomy walls that rose a thousand feet sheer above the circling pines around him. At the sky ominously clouded at the valley below already deepening into shadow and doing so suddenly he heard his own name called. A horseman slowly ascended the trail in the fresh open face of the newcomer Mr. Oakhurst recognised Tom Simpson otherwise known as the Innocent of Sandy Bar. He had met him some months before over a little game and had with perfect equanimity won the entire fortune amounting to some forty dollars of the gildest youth. After the game was finished Mr. Oakhurst drew the youthful speculator behind the door and thus addressed him Tommy, you're a good little man but you can't gamble worth a cent. Don't try it over again. He then handed him his money back pushed him gently from the room and so made a devoted slave of Tom Simpson. There was a remembrance of this in his boyish and enthusiastic greeting of Mr. Oakhurst. He had started to go to poker flat to seek his fortune alone, no not exactly alone in fact a giggle he had run away with piney woods didn't Mr. Oakhurst remember piney she that used to wait on the table at the temperance house they had been engaged a long time that old Jake Woods had objected so they ran away and were going to poker flat to be married and here they were and they were tired out and how lucky it was they had found a place to camp and company. All this the innocent delivered rapidly while piney a stout cumbly damsel of fifteen emerged from behind the pine tree where she had been blushing unseen and rode to the side of her lover Mr. Oakhurst seldom troubled himself with sentiment, still less with propriety but he had a vague idea that the situation was not fortunate he retained however his presence of mind sufficiently to kick Uncle Billy who was about to say something and Uncle Billy was sober enough to realise in Mr. Oakhurst's kick a superior power that would not bear trifling he then endeavoured to dissuade Tom Simpson from delaying further but in vain. He even pointed out the fact that there was no provision nor means of making a camp but unluckily the innocent met this objection by assuring the party was provided with an extra mule loaded with provisions and by the discovery of a rude attempt at a log house near the trail. Piney can stay with Mrs. Oakhurst said innocent pointing to the duchess and I can shift for myself. Nothing but Mr. Oakhurst's admonishing foot saved Uncle Billy from bursting into a roar of laughter as it was he felt compelled to retire up the canyon until he could recover his gravity there he confided the joke to the tall pine trees with many slips of his leg contortions of his face and the usual profanity but when he returned to the party he found them seated by a fire strangely chill and the sky overcast in apparently amical conversation Piney was actually talking in an impulsive girlish fashion to the duchess who was listening with an interest and animation she had not shown for many days the innocent was holding forth apparently with equal effect Mr. Oakhurst and Mother Shipton who was actually relaxing into amiability is this your a damn picnic said Uncle Billy with inward scorn as he surveyed the Sylvan group the glancing firelight and the tethered animals in the foreground suddenly an idea mingled with the alcoholic fumes that disturbed his brain it was apparently of a jocular nature he compelled to slip his leg again and cram his fist into his mouth as the shadows crept slowly up the mountain a slight breeze rocked the tops of the pine trees and moaned through their long and gloomy aisles the ruined cabin patched and covered with pine boughs was set apart for the ladies as the lovers parted and eventually exchanged a kiss so honest and sincere that it might have been heard above the swaying pines the frail duchess and the malevolent Mother Shipton were probably too stunned to remark upon this last evidence of simplicity and so turned without a word to the hut the fire was replenished the men lay down before the door and in a few minutes were asleep Mr. Oakhurst was a light sleeper toward morning he awoke benumbed and cold as he stirred the dying fire the wind which was now blowing strongly brought to his cheek that which caused the bud to leave it snow he started to his feet with the intention of awakening the sleepers but there was no time to lose but turning to where Uncle Billy had been lying he found him gone a suspicion leaped to his brain and accursed to his lips he ran to the spot where the mules had been tethered they were no longer there the tracks were already rapidly disappearing in the snow the momentary excitement brought Mr. Oakhurst back with his usual calm he did not awaken the sleepers the innocent slumbered peacefully with a smile on his good, humid, freckled face the virgin panic slept beside her frail of sisters as sweetly as though attended by celestial guardians and Mr. Oakhurst, drawing his blanket over his shoulders stroked his moustaches and waited for the dawn it came slowly in a whirling mist of snowflakes that dazzled and confused the eye what could be seen as the landscape appeared magically changed he looked over the valley and summed up the present and future in two words snowed in a careful inventory of the provisions that Mr. Oakhurst had been stored within the hut and so escaped the felonious fingers of Uncle Billy disclosed the fact that with care and prudence they might last ten days longer that is, said Mr. Oakhurst the subtle boss to the innocent if you're willing to board us if you ain't and perhaps you'd better not you can wait till Uncle Billy gets back with provisions for some occult reason Mr. Oakhurst could not bring himself to disclose Uncle Billy's rascality and so offered the hypothesis that he had wandered from the camp and had accidentally stampeded the animals he dropped a warning to the Duchess and Mother Shipton who of course knew the facts of their associate's defection and the truth about us all when they find out anything he added significantly and there's no good frightening them now Tom Simpson not only put all his world least of all at the disposal of Mr. Oakhurst but seemed to enjoy the prospect of their enforced seclusion we'll have a good camp for a week and then the snow will melt and we'll all go back together the cheerful goatee of the young man and Mr. Oakhurst's calm infected the others the innocent with the aid of pine boughs extemporised a thatch for the ruthless cabin and the Duchess directed piney in the rearrangement at the interior with the taste and tack that opened the blue eyes of that provincial maiden to their fullest extent I reckon now you're used to find things at poker flat said piney the Duchess turned away sharply to conceal something that reddened her cheeks through its professional tint and Mother Shipton requested piney not to chatter but when Mr. Oakhurst returned from a weary search for the trail he heard the sound of happy laughter echoed from the rocks he stopped in some alarm his thoughts first naturally reverted to the whiskey which he had prudently catched and yet it don't somehow sound like whiskey said the gambler it was not until he caught sight of the blazing fire through the still blinding storm and the group around it that he settled to the conviction that it was square fun where the Mr. Oakhurst had catched his cards with the whiskey hoping to bar the free access of the community I cannot say it was certain that in Mother Shipton's words he didn't say cards once during that evening happily the time was beguiled by an accordion produced somewhat ostentatiously by Tom Simpson from his pack notwithstanding some difficulties attending the manipulation of this instrument piney woods managed to pluck several reluctant melodies from its keys to an accompaniment by the innocent on a pair of bone castanets but the crowning festivity at the evening was reached in a rude camp meeting him which the lovers joining hands sung with great earnestness and vociferation I fear that a certain defiant tone recubinant to swing to its chorus rather than any devotional quality caused it speedily to infect the others who at last joined in the refrain I'm proud to live in the service of the Lord and I'm bound to die in his army the pines rocked, the storm eddied and whirled above the miserable group and the flames of their alter leaped heavenward keeping token of the vow at midnight the storm abated the rolling clouds parted and the stars glittered keenly above the sleeping camp Mr. Oakhurst, whose professional habits had enabled him to live on the smallest possible amount of sleep in dividing the watch with Tom Simpson somehow managed to take upon himself the greater part of that duty gave himself to the innocent by saying that he had often been awake without sleep doing what asked Tom poker replied Oakhurst sententuously when a man gets a streak of luck nigger luck, he don't get tired the luck gives him thirst luck continued the gambler reflectively is a mighty queer thing all you know about it for certain is that it's bound to change and it's finding out when it's going to change that makes you we've had a streak of bad luck since we left poker flat you come along and slack you get into it too if you can hold your cards right along you're all right for added the gambler with cheerful irrelevance I'm proud to live in the service of the Lord and I'm bound to die in his army the third day came and the sun looking through the white curtain valley saw the outcasts divide their slowly decreasing store of provisions for the morning meal it was one of the peculiar arities of that mountain climate that it's raised diffused a kindly warmth over the wintry landscape as if in regretful commiseration of the past filled drift on drifter snow piled high around the hut a hopeless uncharted trackless sea a white line below the rocky shores to which the castaways still clung through the marvellously clear air the smoke of the pastoral village of poker flat rose miles away mother shipped and saw it and from a remote pinnacle of a rocky fastness hurled in that direction a final malediction it was her last vertebrative attempt and perhaps for that reason was invested with a certain degree of sublimity it did her good she privately informed the duchess just you go out there and cuss and see see then set herself to the task of amusing the child as she and the duchess were pleased to call piney piney was no chicken but it was a soothing and original theory of the pair thus to account for the fact that she didn't swear and wasn't improper when night crept up again through the gorges the reedy notes of the accordion rose and fell in fitful spasms and long drawn gasps by the flickering campfire but music failed to fill entirely the aching void left by insufficient food and a new diversion was proposed by piney storytelling neither Mr. Ochus nor his female companions caring to relate their personal experiences this plan would have failed too but for the innocent some months before he had chanced upon a stray copy of Mr. Pope's ingenuous translation of the alone he now proposed to narrate the principal incidents of that poem having thoroughly mastered the argument and fairly forgotten the words in the current vernacular of Sandy Barr and so for the rest of that night the Homeric demigods again walked the earth Trojan bully and the great pines in the canyon seemed to bow to the wrath of the sun Apelius Mr. Ochus listened with quiet satisfaction most especially was he interested in the fate of Ash Hills as the innocent persisted in denominating the swift-footed Achilles so with small food and much of Homer and the accordion a week passed over the heads of the outcasts the sun again forsook them and again from leaden skies the snowflakes were sifted over the land day by day closer around them drew the snowy circle until at last they looked from their prison over drifted walls of dazzling white that towered 20 feet above their heads it became more and more difficult to replenish their fires even from the fallen trees beside them now half hidden in the drifts and yet no one complained the lovers turned from the dreary prospect and looked into each other's eyes and were happy Mr. Ochus settled himself coolly to the losing game before him the Duchess more cheerful than she had been assumed the care of Piny and Mother Shipton once the strongest of the party seemed to sicken and fade at midnight on the 10th day she called Ochus to her side I'm going she said in a voice of queeriless weakness but don't say anything about it don't waken the kids take the bundle from under my head and open it Mr. Ochus did so it contained Mother Shipton's rations for the last week untouched give them to the child pointing to the sleeping Piny you've starved yourself said the gambler that's what they call it said the woman as she lowered down again and turning her face to the wall passed quietly away the accordion and the bones were put aside that day and Homer was forgotten when the body of Mother Shipton had been committed to the snow Mr. Ochus took the innocent aside and showed him a pair of snow shoes which he had fashioned from the old packed saddle there's one chance in a hundred to save her yet he said pointing to Piny but it's there he added pointing toward poker flat if you can reach there in two days she saw and you asked Tom Simpson I'll stay here was the curt reply the lovers parted with a long embrace you are not going to said the Duchess as she saw Mr. Ochus apparently waiting to accompany him as far as the canyon he replied he turned suddenly to the Duchess leaving her pallid face a flame and her trembling limbs rigid with amazement night came but not Mr. Ochus it brought the storm again and the whirling snow then the Duchess feeding the fire found that someone had quietly piled beside the hut enough fuel to last a few days longer the tears rose to her eyes and she hid them from Piny the women slept but little in the morning looking into each other's faces they read their fate neither spoke but Piny accepting the position of the stronger drew near and placed her arm around the Duchess's waist they kept this attitude for the rest of the day that night the storm reached its greatest fury and just under the protecting pines invaded the very hut to a broad morning they found themselves unable to feed the fire which gradually died away as the envies slowly blackened the Duchess crept closer to Piny and broke the silence of many hours Piny can you pray nobody said Piny simply the Duchess knowing exactly why felt relieved and putting her head upon Piny's shoulder spoke no more and so reclining the younger and the purer pillowing the head of her soiled sister upon her virgin breast they fell asleep the wind lulled as it feared to waken them further adrift of snow shaken from the long pine boughs like white winged birds and settled about them as they slept the moon through the rifted clouds looked down upon what had been the camp but all human stone all trace of earthly travail was hidden beneath the spotless mantle mercifully flung from above they slept all that day and the next nor did they waken when voices broke the silence of the camp and when pitying fingers brushed the snow from their wane faces you could scarcely have told from the equal piece that dwelt upon them which was she that had sinned even a law a poker flat recognised this and turned away leaving them still locked in each other's arms but at the head of the gulch the largest pine trees they found the juice of clubs pinned to the bark with a bowie knife it bore the following written in pencil in a firm hand beneath this tree lies the body of John Ochurst who struck a streak of bad luck on the 23rd of November 1850 and handed in his checks on the 7th of December 1850 and pulseless and cold with a derringer by his side and a bullet in his heart they still calm as in life beneath the snow lay he who was at once the strongest and yet the weakest of the outcasts of poker flat end of the outcasts of poker flat 1850 in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit Librivox.org selected stories by Brett Hart Miggles we were eight including the driver we had not spoken during the passage of the last six miles since the jolting of the heavy vehicle over the roughening road had spoiled the judge's last poetical quotation the tall man beside the judge was asleep his arm passed through the swaying strap and his head resting upon it altogether a limp, helpless looking object as if he had hanged himself and been cut down too late the French lady on the back seat was asleep too yet in a half conscious propriety of attitude shown even in the disposition of the handkerchief which she held to her forehead and which partially veiled her face the lady from Virginia city since lost all individuality in a wild confusion of ribbons veils, furs, and shawls there was no sound but the rattling of wheels and the dash of rain upon the roof suddenly the stage stopped and we became dimly aware of voices the driver was evidently in the midst of an exciting colloquy with someone in the road a colloquy of which such fragments as bridge gone, twenty feet of water can't pass distinguishable above the storm then came a lull and a mysterious voice from the road shouted the parting adoration Try Miggles' we caught a glimpse of our leaders as the vehicle slowly turned of a horseman vanishing through the rain and we were evidently on our way to Miggles' who and where was Miggles the judge, our authority did not remember the name and he knew the country thoroughly the driver thought Miggles must keep a hotel we only knew that we were stopped by high water in front and rear and that Miggles was our rock of refuge a ten minute splashing through a tangled by-road scarcely wide enough for the stage and we drew up before a bar and boarded gate in a wide stone wall or a fence about eight feet high evidently Miggles' and evidently Miggles did not keep a hotel the driver got down and tried the gate it was securely locked Miggles, oh Miggles no answer Miggles, you Miggles continued the driver with rising wrath Miggles' joined the expressmen persuasively, oh Miggie, Migg but no reply came from the apparently insensitive Miggles the judge who had finally got the window down put his head out and propounded a series of questions which if answered categorically would have undoubtedly elucidated the whole mystery but which the driver evaded by replying that if we didn't want to sit in the coach all night we had better rise up and sing out for Miggles so we rose up and called on Miggles in chorus then separately and when we had finished a hibernian fellow passenger from the roof called for Miggles where at we all laughed while we were laughing the driver cried Shoo! to our infinite amazement the course of Miggles was repeated from the other side of the wall even to the final and supplemental Miguel's extraordinary echo said the judge extraordinary damned skunk roared the driver contemptuously come out of that Miggles and show yourself be a man Miggles don't hide in the dark I wouldn't if I were you Miggles continued Yuba Bill now dancing about in an excess of fury Miggles continued the voice oh Miggles my good man Mr. Miguel said the judge softening the asperities of the name as much as possible consider the inhospitality of refusing shelter from the inclemency of the weather to helpless females really my dear sir but a succession of Miggles ending in a burst of laughter drowned his voice Yuba Bill hesitated no longer taking a heavy stone from the road he battered down the gate and with the expressmen entered the enclosure we followed nobody was to be seen in the gathering darkness all that we could distinguish was that we were in a garden from the rose bushes that scattered over us a minute spray from their dripping leaves and before a long rambling wooden building do you know this Miggles asked the judge of Yuba Bill no nor don't want to said Bill shortly who felt the pioneer stage company insulted in his person by the contumacious Miggles but my dear sir expostulated the judge as he thought of the barred gate looky here said Yuba Bill with fine irony hence you better go back and sit the coach till you're introduced I'm going in and he pushed open the door of the building a long room lighted only by the embers of a fire that was dying on the large hearth at its farther extremity previously papered and the flickering firelight bringing out its grotesque pattern somebody sitting in a large arm chair by the fireplace all this we saw as we crowded together into the room after the driver and expressmen hello be you Miggles said Yuba Bill to the solitary occupant the figure neither spoke nor stirred Yuba Bill walked wrathfully toward it and turned the eye of his coach lantern upon its face it was a man's face prematurely old and wrinkled with very large eyes in which there was that expression of perfectly gratuitous limity which I had sometimes seen in an owls the large eyes wandered from Bill's face to the lantern and finally fixed their gaze on that luminous object without further recognition Bill restrained himself with an effort Miggles be you deaf you ain't dumb anyhow you know and Yuba Bill shook the insensitive figure to our great dismay as Bill removed his hand the venerable stranger apparently collapsed sinking into half his size and an undistinguishable heap of clothing well turn my skin said Bill looking appealingly at us and hopelessly retiring from the contest the judge now stepped forward and we lifted the mysterious invertebrate back into his original position Bill was dismissed with the lantern and a conitor outside for it was evident that from the helplessness of this solitary man there must be a tendons near at hand and we all drew around the fire the judge who had regained his authority and had never lost his conversational ammability standing before us with his back to the hearth charged us as an imaginary jury as follows it is evident that either our distinguished friend here has reached that condition described by Shakespeare as and yellow leaf or has suffered some premature abatement of his mental and physical faculties whether he is really the Miggles here he was interrupted by Miggles, oh Miggles and in fact the whole chorus of Miggles in very much the same key as it had once before been delivered unto us we gazed at each other for a moment in some alarm the judge in particular vacated his position quickly to come directly over his shoulder the cause however was soon discovered in a large magpie who was perched upon a shelf over the fireplace and who immediately relapsed into a sepulchral silence which contrasted singularly with his previous volubility it was undoubtedly his voice which we had heard in the road and our friend in the chair was not responsible for the discurtecy Yuba Bill who re-entered the room after an unsuccessful search was loath to accept the explanation and still eyed the helpless sitter with suspicion he had found a shed in which he had put up his horses but he came back dripping and skeptical there ain't nobody but him within ten miles of the shandy and that our damned old ski-six knows it but the faith of the majority proved to be securely based Bill had scarcely ceased growling before we heard a quick step upon the porch the trailing of a wet skirt the door was flung open and with flash of white teeth a sparkle of dark eyes and an utter absence of ceremony or diffidence a young woman entered shut the door and panting leaned back against it oh, if you please I'm Miggles and this was Miggles this bright eyed full-throated young woman whose wet gown of coarse blue stuff could not hide the beauty of the feminine curves to which it clung from the chestnut crown of whose head topped by a man's oil-skin southwestern to the little feet and ankles hidden somewhere in the recesses of her boy's broken's all was grace this was Miggles laughing at us, too in the most airy frank offhand manner imaginable you see boys, she said quite out of breath and holding one little hand against her side quite unheeding the speechless discomforture of our party or the complete demoralization of Yuba Bill whose features had relaxed into an expression of gratuitous and imbecile cheerfulness you see boys, I was more than two miles away when you passed down the road I thought you might pull up here so I ran the whole way knowing nobody was home but Jim and I'm out of breath and that lets me out and here Miggles caught her dripping oil-skin hat from her head with a mischievous swirl scattered a shower of raindrops over us attempted to put back her hair dropped two hairpins in the attempt laughed and sat down beside Yuba Bill with her hands crossed lightly on her lap the judge recovered himself first and assayed an extravagant compliment I'll trouble you for that Thar Harpin, said Miggles gravely half a dozen hands were eagerly stretched forward the missing hairpin was restored to its fair owner and Miggles, crossing the room looked keenly in the face of the invalid the solemn eyes looked back at hers with an expression we had never seen before life and intelligence seemed to struggle back into the rugged face Miggles laughed again it was a singularly eloquent laugh and turned her black eyes and white teeth once more toward us this afflicted person is hesitated the judge Jim, said Miggles your father no brother no husband Miggles darted a quick half defiant glance at the two lady passengers who I had noticed did not participate in the general masculine admiration of Miggles and said gravely no it's Jim there was an awkward pause the lady passengers moved closer to each other the washowy husband looked abstractly at the fire and the tall man apparently turned his eyes inward for self-support at this emergency but Miggles' laugh which was very infectious broke the silence come, she said briskly you must be hungry who will bear a hand to help me get tea she had no lack of volunteers in a few moments Yuba Bill was engaged like Caliban in bearing logs for this Miranda the expressman was grinding coffee on the veranda to myself the slicing bacon was assigned and the judge lent each man his good humor and valuable counsel and when Miggles assisted by the judge and our hibernian deck passenger set the table with all the available crockery we had become quite joyous in spite of the rain that beat against the windows the wind that whirled down the chimney the two ladies who whispered together in the corner or the magpie who uttered a satirical and croaking commentary on their conversation from his perch above in the now bright blazing fire we could see that the walls were papered with illustrated journals arranged with feminine taste and discrimination the furniture was extemporized and adapted from candle boxes and packing cases and covered with gay calico or the skin of some animal the armchair of the helpless Jim was an ingenious variation of a flower barrel there was neatness and even a taste for the picturesque to be seen in the few details of the long low room the meal was a culinary success but more it was a social triumph chiefly I think owing to the rare tact of Miggles in guiding the conversation asking all the questions herself yet bearing throughout a frankness that rejected the idea of any concealment on her own part so that we talked of ourselves of our prospects of the journey of the weather of each other of everything but our host and hostess it must be confessed that Miggles conversation was never elegant rarely grammatical and that at times she employed expletives the use of which had generally been yielded to our sex but they were delivered with such a lighting up of teeth and eyes and were usually followed by a laugh peculiar to Miggles so frank and honest that it seemed to clear the moral atmosphere once during the meal we heard a noise like the rubbing of a heavy body against the outer walls of the house this was shortly followed by a scratching and sniffling at the door that's Hoa Quinn said Miggles in reply to our questioning glances would you like to see him before we could answer she had opened the door and disclosed a half grown grizzly who instantly raised himself on his hunches with his four paws hanging down in the popular attitude of mendicancy and looked admiringly at Miggles with a very singular resemblance in his manner to Yuba Bill dog said Miggles in explanation oh he don't bite she added as the two lady passengers fluttered into a corner does he old toppy the latter remark being addressed directly to the sagacious Hoa Quinn I tell you what boys continued Miggles after she had fed and closed the door on Ursa Minor you were in big luck that Hoa Quinn wasn't hanging around when you dropped in tonight where was he asked the judge said Miggles Lord love you he trot around with me nights like as if he was a man we were silent for a few moments and listened to the wind perhaps we all had the same picture before us of Miggles walking through the rainy woods with her savage guardian at her side the judge I remember said something about Yuna and her lion but Miggles received it as she did other compliments with quiet gravity whether she was altogether conscious of the admiration she excited she could hardly have been oblivious of Yuba Bill's adoration I know not but her very frankness suggested a perfect sexual equality that was cruelly humiliating to the younger members of our party the incident of the bear did not add anything in Miggles' favor to the opinions of those of her own sex who were present in fact they were passed over a chillness radiated from the two lady passengers that no pine bowels brought in by Yuba Bill and cast as a sacrifice upon the hearth could wholly overcome Miggles felt it and suddenly declaring that it was time to turn in offered to show the ladies to their bed in an adjoining room you boys will have to camp out here by the fire as well as you can she added for there ain't but the one room our sex by which dear sir I allude of course to the stronger portion of humanity has been generally relieved from the imputation of curiosity or a fondness for gossip yet I am constrained to say that hardly had the door closed on Miggles then we crowded together whispering, snickering, smiling and exchanging suspicions surmises and a thousand speculations in regard to our pretty hostess and her singular companion I fear that we even hustled that imbecile paralytic who sat like a voiceless memnon in our midst gazing with the serene indifference of the past in his passionate eyes upon our wordy counsels in the midst of an exciting discussion the door opened again and Miggles re-entered but not apparently the same Miggles who a few hours before had flashed upon us her eyes were downcast and as she hesitated for a moment on the threshold with a blanket on her arm she seemed to have left behind the frank fearlessness which had charmed us a moment before coming into the room she drew no stool beside the paralytic's chair sat down drew the blanket over her shoulders and saying if it's all the same to you boys as we're rather crowded I'll stop here tonight took the invalid's withered hand in her own and turned her eyes upon the dying fire an instinctive feeling that this was only premonitory to more confidential relations and perhaps some shame at our previous curiosity kept us silent the rain still beat upon the roof wandering gusts of wind stirred the umbers into momentary brightness until in a lull of the elements Miggles suddenly lifted up her head and throwing her hair over her shoulder turned her face upon the group and asked is there any of you that knows me? there was no reply think again I lived at Marysville in 53 everybody knew me there and everybody had the right to know me I kept the pulcus loon until I came to live with Jim perhaps I've changed some the absence of recognition may have disconcerted her she turned her head to the fire again and it was some seconds before she again spoke and then more rapidly well you see I thought some of you must have know me there's no great harm done anyway what I was going to say was this Jim here she took his hand in both of hers as she spoke used to know me if you didn't and spent a heap of money upon me I reckon he spent all he had and one day, it's six years ago this winter, Jim came into my back room sat down on my Sophie like as you see him in that chair and never moved again without help he was struck all of a heap and never seemed to know what ailed him the doctors came and said as how it was caused all along of his way of life for Jim was mighty free and wild like and that he would never get better and couldn't last long anyway they advised me to send him to Frisco to the hospital for he was no good to anyone and would be a baby all his life perhaps it was something in Jim's eye perhaps it was that I never had a baby but I said no I was rich then for I was popular with everybody gentlemen like yourself, sir, came to see me and I sold out my business and bought this here place because it was sort of out of the way of travel you see and I brought my baby here with a woman's intuitive tact and poetry she had as she spoke slowly shifted her position so as to bring the mute figure of the ruined man between her and her audience hiding in the shadow behind it as if she offered it as a tacit apology for her actions silent and expressionless it yet spoke for her helpless, crushed and smitten with the divine thunderbolt it still stretched an invisible arm around her hidden in the darkness but still holding his hand she went on it was a long time before I could get the hang of things about here for I was used to company and excitement I couldn't get any woman to help me and a man I didn't trust but what with the Indians here about who'd do odd jobs for me and having everything sent from the North Fork Jim and I managed to worry through the doctor would run up from Sacramento once in a while maybe Miggles's baby as he called Jim and when he'd go away he'd say Miggles you're a Trump God bless you and it didn't seem so lonely after that but the last time he was here he said as he opened the door to go do you know Miggles your baby will grow up to be a man yet and an honor to his mother but not here Miggles not here and I thought he went away sad and here Miggles's voice and head were somehow both lost completely in the shadow the folks about here are very kind said Miggles after a pause coming a little into the light again the men from the Fork used to hang around here until they found they wasn't wanted and the women are kind and don't call I was pretty lonely until I picked up Hoa Quinn in the woods yonder one day when he wasn't so high and taught him to beg for his dinner then there's Pauly that's the magpie she knows no end of tricks and makes it quite sociable of evenings with her talk and so I don't feel like as I was the only living being about the ranch and Jim here said Miggles with her old laugh again and coming out quite into the firelight Jim why boys you would admire to see how much he knows for a man like him sometimes I bring him flowers and he looks at him just as natural as if he knew him and times when we're sitting alone I read him those things on the wall why Lord said Miggles with her Frank laugh I've read him that whole side of the house this winter there never was such a man for reading as Jim why asked the judge do you not marry this man to whom you have devoted your youthful life well you see said Miggles it would be plain it rather low down on Jim to take advantage of his being so helpless and then to if we were man and wife now we'd both know that I was bound to do what I do now of my own accord but you are young yet and attractive it's getting late said Miggles gravely and you'd better all turn in good night boys and throwing the blanket over her head Miggles laid herself down beside Jim's chair her head pillowed on the low stool that held his feet and spoke no more the fire slowly faded from the hearth we each sought our blankets in silence and presently there was no sound in the long room but the pattering of the rain upon the roof and the heavy breathing of the sleepers it was nearly morning when I awoke from a troubled dream the storm had passed the stars were shining and through the shutterless window the full moon lifting itself over the solemn pines without looked into the room it touched the lonely figure in the chair with an infinite compassion and seemed to baptize with a shining flood the lowly head of the woman whose hair as in the sweet old story bathed the feet of him she loved it even lent a kindly poetry to the rugged outline of Yuba Bill half reclining on his elbow between them and his passengers with savagely patient eyes keeping watch and ward and then I fell asleep and only woke at broad day with Yuba Bill standing over me and all aboard ringing in my ears coffee was waiting for us on the table but Miggles was gone we wandered about the house and lingered long after the horses were harnessed but she did not return it was evident that she wished to avoid a formal leave taking and had so left us to depart as we had come after we had helped the ladies into the coach we returned to the house and solemnly shook hands with the paralytic gym as solemnly settling him back into position after each handshake then we looked for the last time around the long low room at the stool where Miggles had sat and slowly took our seats in the waiting coach the whip cracked and we were off but as we reached the high road Bill's dexterous hand laid the six horses back on their haunches and the stage stopped with a jerk for there on a little eminence beside the road stood Miggles her hair flying her eyes sparkling her white handkerchief waving and her white teeth flashing a last goodbye we waved our hats in return and then Yuba Bill as if fearful of further fascination madly lashed his horses forward we sank back in our seats we exchanged not a word until we reached the north fork and the stage drew up at the independence house then the judge leading we walked into the bar room and took our places gravely at the bar are your glasses charged gentlemen said the judge solemnly taking off his white hat they were well then here's to Miggles God bless her perhaps he had who knows end of Miggles Tennessee's partner in selected stories by Bret Hart this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org selected stories by Bret Hart Tennessee's partner I do not think that we ever knew his real name our ignorance of it certainly never gave us any social inconvenience for at Sandy Bar in 1854 most men were christened anew sometimes these appellatives were derived from some distinctness of dress as in the case of Dungaree Jack or from some peculiarity of habit as shown in Salaratus Bill so called from an undue proportion of that chemical in his daily bread or for some unlucky slip as exhibited in the iron pirate an offensive man who earned that baleful title by his unfortunate mispronunciation of the term iron pirates perhaps this may have been the beginning of a rude heraldry but I am constrained to think that it was because a man's real name in that day rested solely upon his own unsupported statement call yourself Clifford do you said Boston addressing a timid newcomer with infinite scorn hell is full of such Cliffords he then introduced the unfortunate man whose name happened to be really Clifford as J.Bird Charlie an unhollowed inspiration of the moment that clung to him ever after but to return to Tennessee's partner whom we never knew by any other than this relative title that he had ever existed as a separate and distinct individuality we only learned later it seems that in 1853 he left poker flat to go to San Francisco ostensibly to procure a wife he never got any farther than Stockton at that place he was attracted by a young person who waited upon the table at the hotel where he took his meals one morning he said something to her which caused her to smile not unkindly to somewhat coquettishly break a plate of toast over his upturned serious simple face and to retreat to the kitchen he followed her and emerged a few moments later covered with more toast and victory that day week they were married by a justice of the peace and returned to poker flat I am aware that something more might be made of this episode but I prefer to tell it as it was current at Sandy Bar in the gulches and bar rooms where all sentiment was modified by a strong sense of humor of their married felicity but little is known perhaps for the reason that Tennessee then living with his partner one day took occasion to say something to the bride on his own account at which it is said she smiled not unkindly and chastely retreated this time as far as Marysville where Tennessee followed her and where they went to housekeeping without the aid of a justice of the peace Tennessee's partner took the loss of his wife simply and seriously as was his fashion but to everybody's surprise when Tennessee one day returned from Marysville without his partner's wife she having smiled and retreated with somebody else Tennessee's partner was the first man to shake his hand and greet him with affection the boys who had gathered in the canyon to see the shooting were naturally indignant their indignation might have found vent in sarcasm but for a certain look in Tennessee's partner's eye that indicated a lack of humorous appreciation in fact he was a grave man with a steady application to practical detail which was unpleasant in a difficulty meanwhile a popular feeling against Tennessee had grown up on the bar he was known to be a gambler he was suspected to be a thief in these suspicions Tennessee's partner was equally compromised his continued intimacy with Tennessee after the affair above quoted could only be accounted for on the hypothesis of a co-partnership of crime at last Tennessee's guilt became flagrant one day he overtook a stranger on his way to Red Dog the stranger afterward related that Tennessee beguiled the time with interesting anecdote and reminiscence but illogically concluded the interview in the following words and now young man I'll trouble you for your knife your pistols and your money you see your weapons might get you into trouble at Red Dog and your money's a temptation to the evilly disposed I think you said your address was San Francisco I shall endeavor to call it may be stated here that Tennessee had a fine flow of humor which no business preoccupation could wholly subdue this exploit was his last Red Dog and Sandy Bar made common cause against the highwayman Tennessee was hunted in very much the same fashion as his prototype, the Grizzly while the toils closed around him he made a desperate dash through the bar emptying his revolver at the crowd before the arcade saloon and so on up Grizzly Canyon but at its farther extremity he was stopped by a small man on a grey horse the men looked at each other a moment in silence both were fearless both self-possessed and independent and both types of a civilization that in the 17th century would have been called heroic but in the 19th simply reckless what have you got there I call said Tennessee quietly two bowers and an ace said the stranger as quietly showing two revolvers and a bowie knife that takes me return to Tennessee and with this gambler's epigram he threw away his useless pistol and rode back with his captor it was a warm night the cool breeze which usually sprang up with the going down of the sun behind the Chaparral Crested Mountain was that evening withheld from Sandy Bar the little canyon was stifling with heated resinous odors and the decaying driftwood on the bar sent forth faint sickening exhalations the feverishness of day and its fierce passions still filled the camp lights moved restlessly along the bank of the river striking no answering reflection from its tawny current against the blackness of the pines the windows of the old loft above the express office stood outstaringly bright and through their curtainless pains the loungers below could see the forms of those who were even then deciding the fate of Tennessee and above all this etched on the dark firmament rose the Sierra remote and passionless crowned with remotor, passionless stars the trial of Tennessee was conducted as fairly as was consistent with a judge and jury who felt themselves to some extent obliged to justify in their verdict the previous irregularities of arrest and indictment the law of Sandy Bar was implacable but not vengeful the excitement and personal feeling of the chase were over with Tennessee safe in their hands they were ready to listen patiently to any defense which they were already satisfied was insufficient there being no doubt in their own minds they were willing to give the prisoner the benefit of any that might exist secure in the hypothesis that he ought to be hanged on general principles they indulged him with more latitude of defense than his reckless hardy hood seemed to ask the judge appeared to be more anxious than the prisoner who otherwise unconcerned evidently took a grim pleasure in the responsibility he had created I don't take any hand in this here game had been his invariable but good-humored reply to all questions the judge who was also his captor for a moment vaguely regretted that he had not shot him on site that morning but presently dismissed this human weakness as unworthy of the judicial mind nevertheless when there was a tap at the door and it was said that Tennessee's partner was there on behalf of the prisoner he was admitted at once without question perhaps the younger members of the jury to whom the proceedings were becoming mercimally thoughtful held him as a relief for he was not certainly an imposing figure short and stout with a square face some burned into a preternatural redness clad in a loose stuck jumper and trousers streaked and splashed with red soil his aspect under any circumstances would have been quaint and was now even ridiculous as he stooped to deposit at his feet a heavy carpet bag he was carrying it became obvious from partially developed legends and inscriptions that the material with which his trousers had been patched had been originally intended for a less ambitious covering yet he advanced with great gravity and after having shaken the hand of each person in the room with labored cordiality he wiped his serious perplexed face on a red bandana handkerchief a shade lighter than his complexion laid his powerful hand upon the table to steady himself and thus addressed the judge I was passing by he began by way of apology and I thought I'd just step in and see how things was getting on with Tennessee Thar my partner it's a hot night I just remember any sitch weather before on the bar he paused a moment but nobody volunteering any other meteorological recollection he again had recourse to his pocket handkerchief and for some moments mopped his face diligently have you anything to say on behalf of the prisoner said the judge finally that's it said Tennessee's partner in a tone of relief I come yarr as Tennessee's partner knowing him nigh on four year off and on wet and dry in luck and out of luck his ways ain't always my ways but there aren't any pints in that young man there aren't any liveliness as he's been up to as I don't know and you says to me says you confidential like and between man and man says you do you know anything in his behalf and I says to you says I confidential like as between man and man what should a man know of his partner is this all you have to say asked the judge impatiently feeling perhaps that a dangerous sympathy of humor was beginning to humanize the court that so continued Tennessee's partner it ain't for me to say anything again him now what's the case here's Tennessee once money once it bad and doesn't like to ask it of his old partner well what does Tennessee do he lays for a stranger and fetches that stranger and you lays for him and you fetches him and the honors is easy and I put it to you being a far-minded man and to you gentlemen all as far-minded men if this isn't so prisoner said the judge interrupting do you any questions to ask this man no no continued Tennessee's partner hastily I play this here hand alone to come down to the bedrock is just this Tennessee the R has played it pretty rough and expensive like on a stranger and on this here camp and now what's the fair thing some would say more some would say less here $1,700 in coarse gold and a watch it's about all my pile and call it square and before a hand could be raised to prevent him he had emptied the contents of the carpet bag upon the table for a moment his life was in jeopardy one or two men sprang to their feet several hands groped for hidden weapons and a suggestion to throw him from the window was only overridden by a gesture from the judge Tennessee laughed and apparently oblivious of the excitement Tennessee's partner improved the opportunity to mop his face again with his handkerchief when order was restored and the man was made to understand by the use of forcible figures and rhetoric that Tennessee's offenses could not be condoned by money his face took a more serious and sanguinary hue and those who were nearest to him noticed that his rough hand trembled slightly on the table he hesitated a moment as he slowly turned the gold to the carpet bag as if he had not yet entirely caught the elevated sense of justice which swayed the tribunal and was perplexed with the belief that he had not offered enough then he turned to the judge and saying this here is a lone hand played alone and without my partner he bowed to the jury and was about to withdraw when the judge called him back if you have anything to say to Tennessee you had better say it now for the first time that evening the eyes of the prisoner and his strange advocate met Tennessee smiled showed his white teeth and saying you could hold man held out his hand Tennessee's partner took it in his own and saying I just dropped in as I was passing to see how things was getting on let the hand passively fall and adding that it was a warm night again mopped his face with his handkerchief and without another word withdrew the two men never again met each other alive for the unparalleled insult of a bribe offered to Judge Lynch who whether bigoted weak or narrow was at least incorruptible firmly fixed in the mind of that mythical personage any wavering determination of Tennessee's fate and at the break of day he was marched closely guarded to meet it at the top of Marley's Hill how he met it how cool he was how he refused to say anything how perfect were the arrangements of the committee were all duly reported with the addition of a warning moral and example to all future evildoers in the red dog clarion by its editor who was present and to whose vigorous English I cheerfully refer the reader but the beauty of that midsummer morning the blessed amity of earth and air and sky the awakened life of the free woods and hills the joyous renewal and promise of nature and above all the infinite serenity that thrilled through each was not reported as not being a part of the social lesson and yet when the weak and foolish deed was done and a life with its possibilities and responsibilities had passed out of the misshapen thing that dangled between earth and sky the birds sang the flowers bloomed the sun shone as cheerly as before and possibly the red dog clarion was right Tennessee's partner was not in the group that surrounded the ominous tree but as they turned to disperse attention was drawn to the singular appearance of a motionless donkey cart halted at the side of the road as they approached they at once recognized the venerable Jenny and the two-wheeled cart as the property of Tennessee's partner used by him in carrying dirt from his claim and a few paces distant the owner of the equipage himself sitting under a buckeye tree wiping the perspiration from his glowing face in answer to an inquiry he said he had come for the body of the diseased if it was all the same to the committee he didn't wish to hurry anything he could wait he was not working that day and when the gentlemen were done with the diseased he would take him if there's any present he added in his simple serious way as would care to jine in the funeral they can come perhaps it was from a sense of humor which I have already intimated as a feature of sandy bar perhaps it was from something even better than that but two-thirds of the loungers accepted the invitation at once it was noon when the body of Tennessee was delivered into the hands of his partner as the cart drew up to the fatal tree we noticed that it contained a rough oblong box apparently made from a section of sleucine and half filled with bark and the tassels of pine the cart was further decorated with slips of willow and made fragrant with buckeye blossoms when the body was deposited in the box Tennessee's partner drew over it a piece of tarred campus and gravely mounting the narrow seat in front with his feet upon the shafts urged the little donkey forward the equipage moved slowly on at that decorous pace which was habitual with Jenny even under less solemn circumstances the men half curiously half justingly but all good humoredly strolled along beside the cart some in advance some a little in the rear of the homely catafolk but whether from the narrowing of the road or some present sense of decorum as the cart passed on the company fell to the rear in couples keeping step and otherwise assuming the external show of a formal procession Jack Fallon's be who had at the outset played a funeral march in a dumb show upon an imaginary trombone desisted from a lack of sympathy and appreciation not having perhaps your true humorous capacity to be content with the enjoyment of his own fun the way led through grizzly canyon by this time clothed in funereal drapery and shadows the redwoods bearing their moccasin feet in the red soil stood in Indian file along the track trailing an uncouth benediction from their bending bows upon the passing beer a hair surprised into helpless inactivity sat up right and pulsating in the ferns by the roadside as the cortege went by scrolls hastened to gain a secure outlook from higher bowels and the blue jays spreading their wings fluttered before them like out riders until the outskirts of sandy bar were reached and the solitary cabin of Tennessee's partner viewed under more favorable circumstances it would not have been a cheerful place the unpicturesk site the rude and unlovely outlines the unsavory details which distinguished the nest building of the California minor were all here with the dreariness of decay super-added a few paces from the cabin there was a rough enclosure which in the brief days of Tennessee's partners matrimonial felicity had been used as a garden but was now overgrown with fern as we approached it we were surprised to find that what we had taken for a recent attempt at cultivation was the broken soil about an open grave the cart was halted before the enclosure and rejecting the offers of assistance with the same air of simple self-reliance he had displayed throughout Tennessee's partner lifted the rough coffin on his back and deposited it unaided within the shallow grave he then nailed down the board which served as a lid and mounting the little mound of earth beside it took off his hat and slowly mopped his face with his handkerchief this the crowd felt was a lot more exposed themselves variously on stumps and boulders and sat expectant when a man began Tennessee's partner slowly has been running free all day what's the natural thing for him to do why to come home and if he ain't in a condition to go home what can his best friend do why bring him home and here's Tennessee has been running free and we brings him home from his home he paused and picked up a fragment of quartz rubbed it thoughtfully on his sleeve and went on it ain't the first time that I've packed him on my back as you see me now it ain't the first time that I brought him to this here cabin when he couldn't help himself it ain't the first time that I and Jenny have waited for him on yon hill and picked him up and so fetched him home when he couldn't speak and didn't know me and now he rubbed the quartz gently on his sleeve you see it's sort of rough on his partner and now gentlemen he added abruptly picking up his long handled shovel the funerals over in my thanks and Tennessee's thanks to you for your trouble resisting any proffers of assistance he began to fill in the grave turning his back upon the crowd that after a few moments hesitation gradually withdrew the footage that hid sandy bar from view some looking back thought they could see Tennessee's partner his work done sitting upon the grave his shovel between his knees and his face buried in his red bandana handkerchief but it was argued by others that you couldn't tell his face from his handkerchief at that distance and this point remained undecided in the reaction that followed the feverish excitement of that day Tennessee's secret investigation had cleared him of any complicity in Tennessee's guilt and left only a suspicion of his general sanity sandy bar made a point of calling on him and proffering various uncouth but well meant kindnesses but from that day his root health and great strength seemed visibly to decline and when the rainy season fairly set in and the tiny grass blades were beginning to peep from the rocky mound above Tennessee's grave one night when the pines beside the cabin were swaying in the storm and trailing their slender fingers over the roof and the roar and rush of the swollen river were heard below Tennessee's partner lifted his head from the pillow saying it is time to go for Tennessee I must put Ginny in the cart and would have risen from his bed but for the restraint of his attendant struggling he still pursued his singular fancy there now steady Ginny steady old girl how dark it is look out for the ruts and look out for him too old gal sometimes you know when he's blind drunk he drops right down in the trail keep on straight up to the pine on the top of the hill there I told you so there he is coming this way too all by himself sober and his face is shining Tennessee partner and so they met end of Tennessee's partner