Nevada (1995) (14 page)

"Reckon I don't know enough about Arizona to tell you that. I'
m
able, though, to give you some hunches about where NOT to go.

Southern Arizona is too hot, an' in the north it's too cold. O
n
the other hand, you want to steer clear of the Tonto Basin, th
e
Sierra Ancas, the Mogollons, the Little Colorado country. Aroun
d
Springerville an' Snowflake there's fine grazin' lands. That'
s
near the White Mountains. But Mormons mostly have settled i
n
there. The Santa FT Railroad has just lately been laid acros
s
Arizona. An' all along the line new ranches have been added to th
e
few settlers that were there. Anyone goin' into the cattle game o
n
a big scale, as of course you will, don't want to get too far fro
m
the railroad. I'd say a hundred miles should be the limit, an'
t
hat's too far, in Arizona. Roughest, wildest country on earth, I
r
eckon. . . . Now, Ben, the only advice I'll presume to give yo
u
is this. Have a winter home in San Diego, California. There's th
e
mildest, most equable climate in all the world. That's the plac
e
for your mother an' for all of you. San Diego is not so far fro
m
southern and central Arizona. By doin' so you can pick the bes
t
range land in Arizona, an' needn't worry so much about winte
r
climate. Some of them high plateaus get plumb cold in winter, bu
t
are grand all the rest of the year."

"By George! that's a good idea," exclaimed Ben, enthusiastically.

"Never thought of that myself. I've heard about San Diego. It'
s
on the seashore near the Mexican border. They say the sun shine
s
there every day in the year. By George!--it solves our problem
,
Ina."

"I like the idea very much indeed," replied Ina.

"How about you, Hettie?" queried Ben, eagerly.

"It would appeal to mother," said Hettie. "She's a little hippe
d
on this wild and woolly Arizona, as your San Francisco informan
t
called it."

"Sheriff, you sure have given me a hunch," declared Ben, turning t
o
his friend. "Now, about my horses. You know I'd never go anywher
e
without Red and some of the others. But why not take the best o
f
my stock?"

"Wal, by all means take them," replied the sheriff. "That's a hos
s
country, an' also a hoss-THIEF country. I'd send them overland b
y
easy stages in care of some reliable men. Send a chuck wagon, an'
a
lso another wagon, so they can haul outfits an' plenty of grain.

An', Ben, I'd start them soon as possible. They'll need time.

They got to cross Nevada an' most of Utah. That depends on th
e
best route, which they'll have to find."

"Exactly. The main thing, though, is an objective point. Wher
e
shall my men go in Arizona?"

"Wal, that is a stumper," replied the other. "Here it's well alon
g
in May now. You said you'd agree to vacate this range in about tw
o
months."

"Yes. But, come to think of it, that's just prolonging th
e
agony. . . . Girls, how about it? Couldn't you get out of her
e
in two WEEKS?"

"Oh dear!" cried Hettie, helpless before this rush of events an
d
the wonderful stir it roused.

"Yes, Ben, we could. The sooner the better," replied Ina, wide-
e
yed with the seriousness of this decision.

"Good!" ejaculated Ben. "Then I'll go with the horses. You ca
n
pack what you want to take, send it to Klamath to be freighted.

Then you and Hettie can fetch Blaine and mother by way of Frisco."

"They can take the Santa FT from Los Angeles," interposed th
e
sheriff.

"And be landed somewhere in wild Arizona to wait weeks for you,"
a
sserted Ina.

"Ben, if you go overland I'm going with you," added Hettie
,
spiritedly.

"We'll ALL go with you," added Ina, a spot of red showing in eac
h
pearly cheek.

"Aw, girls, that'll never do," expostulated Ben. "It's--it's
a
crazy idea."

"We could stand it," returned Ina, gathering courage with th
e
growing conception. "I think we'd have fun. Back to the pionee
r
days! Remember how our mothers used to brag about the wagon-tea
m
into Oregon?"

"It would be great," added Hettie, in low voice, and she felt he
r
breast heave.

"Say, you're laying it on thick," declared Ben, at his wits' end.

Plain it was he had at once set his heart upon riding overland.

"You girls might do it, but think of Blaine and mother."

"Mother would not only like it, but she could go through with it,"
s
aid Hettie, jumping up. "I'll ask her."

She ran in to lay the point before her mother.

"Well, daughter," came the reply, with unusual animation, "recko
n
that's the first sensible idea Ben has thought of, if it did com
e
from him. It'd do me good. Work an' livin' outdoors is what I
n
eed."

Hettie rushed outside triumphantly to announce her mother'
s
opinion, at which Ben threw up his hands.

"I'll have to give up that plan," he said, regretfully.

Whereupon he took the sheriff off for the corrals, leaving Hetti
e
and Ina deep in a discussion of this important phase of thei
r
exodus into a new country. On Blaine's behalf, Ina could not se
e
any reason why he should be a deterrent. And Hettie foun
d
innumerable arguments in favor of the overland journey.

"We can pack a wagonload of trunks and chests and boxes with th
e
things most dear to us, and ship the rest," averred Ina. "It'd b
e
a safer way."

Hettie agreed wholly with Ina on the economic and practical aspect
s
of the matter, and did not slight the romance, or the adventur
e
side. In the end they convinced each other that the overlan
d
journey was the one they wanted to take.

"Leave Ben to me," concluded Ina.

"Oh, what will Marvie say to this?" added Hettie, with shinin
g
eyes.

As Hettie had suspected, her brother was not so easy to persuade a
s
Ina had confidently anticipated. During the two days of thi
s
deadlock the affairs of the ranch went topsy-turvy. What time Be
n
was not listening and gradually weakening to Ina's importunities h
e
lounged around the corrals, not in a very approachable mood.

At daylight on the third morning Ben pounded on Hettie's door.

"Wake up!" he shouted, gayly. "You'll make a fine wife for
a
pioneer."

"Oh, Ben, what's the matter?" cried Hettie, sitting up in alarm.

"Roll out. There's work to do, young lady."

"Are you--have you--" faltered Hettie.

"I reckon. We leave June first," he replied, deep-voiced.

"Overland?"

"Sure. And Marvie goes with us. Ina's father was pretty decent
,
for him. Agreed to let Marvie come with us for a year, on trial.

I had to give my word of honor I'd send him back if he went wild."

"Marvie won't go wild--that is, not much," replied Hettie. "Oh
,
I'm glad! Ina loves him best of all her family. . . . Ben, the
n
we're--really going?"

"You bet, unless you girls four-flush on me," rejoined Ben, an
d
then he thumped away down the hall with rapid stride.

Hettie gave a little gasp and fell back on her pillow. She seeme
d
suddenly weak. What a wonderful prospect, yet terrifying for al
l
its thrill! Before she recovered Ina came running in, full
y
dressed, with wild dark eyes of radiance.

"Get up, you lazy girl," she said, hugging and pulling at Hettie.

"It's all settled. Ben was over home till late. I was asleep whe
n
he got back. He woke me at four o'clock and told me he'd decided.

We're to go overland. We'll have a regular wagon-train. Oh, I'
m
so excited I'm silly. . . . I believe it was Marvie who turned th
e
scales. He can do anything with Ben--he's so like Nevada. Wasn'
t
it bright of me to enlist Marvie in our cause?"

"Bright? You're wonderful! The Ide outfit wouldn't be complet
e
without Marvie."

That dawn was the beginning of excited, full, strenuous days.

Hettie did not know where the hours flew. If anything inspired he
r
more than her own secret longing that she might meet Nevada but i
n
Arizona, it was the interest and enthusiasm shown by her mother.

They wasted as much time in choosing what to take as they worke
d
hard and late in packing. Ben sold most of the furniture almos
t
over their heads. As the first of June drew swiftly and fearfull
y
on, Hettie realized she must spare time to see a few old schoo
l
friends before she left. As it turned out, however, they called t
o
see her.

Ben bought several new, large, deep-bodied wagons, which he ha
d
covered with canvas stretched over high hoops. One for Hettie an
d
her mother, and another for himself, Ina, and Blaine, he had fitte
d
out so that they made comfortable little rooms. What tinglin
g
pleasure Hettie derived from climbing into her wagon, that must b
e
her home for weeks, possibly months! It was almost like, when sh
e
had been a little girl, playing at keeping house.

Wherefore furnishing this wagon-house proved both a joy an
d
problem. Hettie arranged curtains just behind the wide driver'
s
seat in front. The two single cots had a narrow aisle betwee
n
them, which was covered with a strip of carpet. Underneath th
e
cots Hettie stowed bags and boxes. At the rear of the wagon wa
s
space enough for a low chair, a bureau with mirror, a tin
y
washstand, and an improvised cloth-curtained wardrobe in which t
o
hang clothes.

The morning of departure was like a nightmare for Hettie. Bu
t
after she had passed through Hammell, which passing was in th
e
nature of a parade, Hettie began to recover. Her mother la
y
quietly on her cot, wearied, but not manifesting any signs of dee
p
grief. Hettie parted the front curtains and got out on the hig
h
seat with the driver, one of the older men, who had worked for th
e
Ides as long as Hattie could remember. She did not want to cry
,
and thought that outside she might better keep from it.

A string of horses, mostly bays and blacks, among which Californi
a
Red shone like fire in the sun, led the cavalcade up the long hil
l
road. They were in charge of three of Ben's best riders. Nex
t
came the chuck wagon, and after it the one containing extr
a
supplies, both of which were drawn by four horses. Ben's wago
n
came third, and Hettie's last.