These were the most precious moments of all to the teacher, when the formal lesson was completed, and he sat down for a little talk with his pupil. He occupied the stone which served her for a seat, while one arm loosely clasped the figure which stood between his knees. She patted his cheek, played with his rough collar and s.h.a.ggy whiskers, while as he listened and replied to her prattle, felt as never before the truth of the declaration that of such is the kingdom of heaven.

"Mr. Brush," she finally said, "do you know why I love you?"

"I suppose it must be because I am so handsome," he replied with a smile.

"No; it isn't that, for you _ain't_ handsome."

"Whew! but you are not afraid to speak the truth, little one, and I hope you will always do that. No; I don't know why you love me, unless you are so good yourself that you can't help it."

This was not exactly clear to the little one, and she stood silent for a minute, gently fingering his long beard. Then she thought it best to clear up the mystery without further parley.

"I love you 'cause you're good."

Even though the avowal was delightful, it caused a pang, like a knife-thrust from his accusing conscience.

"I am thankful to hear you say that, but, Nellie, I am not good."

"Yes, you is, but if you ain't good, why ain't you good?"

The logic of the reply of the adult was of the same grade as that of the child.

"I suppose the true reason is because I am bad. I am sorry to say it, but I have drifted far away from where I ought to be."

The dimpled hand continued to fondle the whiskers, and the little brain was busy, but a wisdom that was more than human guided it.

Turning those l.u.s.trous blue eyes upon him she softly asked:

"Will you do what I ask you?"

He almost gasped, for he instinctively suspected what was coming, but he answered without hesitation:

"If it is my power I will do it, though it kills me."

"Oh, I don't want it to kill you; this won't hurt you; will you do it, Mr. Brush?"

"Yes, G.o.d helping me."

"Do like Mr. Ruggles."

"How's that?" asked the parson with a sinking heart.

"Don't drink any more of that red water, which makes men talk loud and sometimes say bad words."

"Heavens!" thought the parson; "she little dreams what she is asking me, but it is not she but some One who is thus calling me back to duty. Yes, my child, I will do what you ask."

"You is as good and nice as you can be now, but then you will be a good deal gooder and nicer," said she, warmly kissing him.

"I hope so," he added, rising to his feet, with the feeling that he was not himself but some one else, and that that some one else was the young man away among the distant hills of Missouri, before he wandered to the West, and in doing so, wandered from the path along which he had attempted to guide and lead others.

"I call myself her teacher," he mused, as he reached down and took the tiny hand in his own, "but she is the teacher and I am the pupil."

They had started in the direction of the cabins, when they heard curious shouts and outcries in that direction. "There's something strange going on down there," he said, peering toward the point; "I wonder what it can be; let us hurry and find out."

Firmly clasping her hand, the two hastened down the incline, wondering what it was that caused all the noise and confusion.

CHAPTER VIII

THE Pa.s.sING YEARS

THE excitement in New Constantinople was caused by the arrival of Vose Adams, the mail carrier and messenger, with his budget of letters and freight for the Heavenly Bower.

These periodical journeys never occupied less than two weeks, and in the present instance he had been absent several days beyond that period, so that some anxiety was felt for him, since every trip was attended with more or less danger. He was exposed to the peril of storms, snowslides, wild animals and hostile Indians. The elemental disturbances in the Sierras are sometimes of a terrific nature. Twice he had lost a mule, and once both animals went spinning down a precipice for a thousand feet, in an avalanche of snow and were never found again. Vose's only consolation in the last instance was that it occurred when on his way to Sacramento, while in the former case he saved one of the precious kegs, which he insisted was the means of saving him in turn from perishing in the Arctic temperature.

The shadowy trail wound in and out among the gorges and canons, beside towering mountain walls, at a dizzying elevation, over ridges above the snow line, across table lands, through forests of pine and cedar and tumultuous mountain torrents, where he took his life in his hands every time he made the venture.

The unerring marksmanship of Vose and his alertness reduced the danger from the fierce grizzly bears and ravening mountain wolves to the minimum, but the red men were an ever present peril. He had served as the target of many a whizzing arrow and stealthy rifle shot, but thus far had emerged with only a few insignificant hurts. He was ready at the stated times to set out on his journey, and appeared indeed to welcome the change in the existence which otherwise became tiresome and monotonous. It mattered not that his friends often intimated that he was starting on his last venture of that nature, for he believed that his "time" had been set and it mattered naught what he did, since it could not be changed.

Vose explained that the cause of his last delay was the old one--Indians. They had pursued and pestered him so persistently that he was compelled to hunt out a new trail, longer and more difficult that the old one, and which came within a hair of landing him into the very camp of his enemies. However, everything had turned out well, and he brought with him the most prized cargo that ever arrived in New Constantinople.

First of all, were the two casks of freight, which had suffered so slight leakage, that Landlord Ortigies complimented the vigilance of the messenger. Then he brought with him fully a hundred letters and newspapers. Each citizen received one, and many had several. In every instance, the grateful recipient paid Vose a dollar for his mail, so that the reward was generous, including as it did a liberal honorarium from the proprietor of the Heavenly Bower.

In addition to the mail and freight, there were a number of articles to which no special reference is needed. In one package, however, every one was deeply interested, and Nellie Dawson more than the others. Unknown to the father, a goodly sum had been entrusted to Adams, with which to purchase such articles as it was believed the child needed. These included material for numerous new dresses of gorgeous pattern, stockings, shoes, slippers, ribbons, hats and even gloves, trinkets and playthings beyond enumeration.

When these were spread out before the little one, she clapped her hands and danced with delight. She had never dreamed of or seen such bewildering wealth, and the miners were repaid a hundred fold, while the grateful parent thanked them for their thoughtful kindness.

With no other person of her s.e.x in the settlement, it would naturally be thought that she lacked in many of the little attentions which only a mother or adult female friend can give, but such was not the case.

There was not a man among them all, who had not been taught in the hard school of necessity to become his own tailor and conservator of clothing. Many had natural taste, and had not wholly forgotten the education and training received in the homes of civilization, before they became adventurers and wanderers. A consensus of views, all moved by the same gentle impulse, resulted in Nellie Dawson being clothed in a garb which would hardly have caused criticism in the metropolis of our country. Not only that, but she was abundantly provided against all kinds of weather, and with Vose Adams making his regular trips westward, there was no possibility of her ever knowing the want of thoughtful care.

The education of the little one was never neglected. Enough has been told to show her brightness, and even had not her teacher been inspired by his affection for the little one, the task of imparting knowledge to such an apt pupil must have been a constant pleasure.

This work, as we have shown, fell by common consent to the parson, Felix Brush, though his choice at first was not unanimous. Wade Ruggles was so insistent that he should have a part in the work, that he was allowed a trial, but it cannot be said the result of several days' effort was satisfactory. A stealthy inspection of the blackboard by Budge Isham and the parson disclosed that Ruggles had constructed the alphabet on a system of his own. Some of the letters were reversed, several inverted, while the forms of others prevented any one from identifying them except the teacher himself.

An examination of the pupil developed the same startling originality in Ruggles's system of orthography, which seemed to be a mixture of the phonetic and the prevailing awkward method. Thus he insisted that "purp" was the right way to spell the name of a young dog, whose correct t.i.tle was "dorg." Ruggles was finally persuaded to resign, though he displayed considerable ill feeling and intimated that the movement was inspired by jealousy of his success.

Budge Isham not only refrained from referring to the slip which the parson made in his spelling lesson, but spoke in such high terms of his success with Nellie, that every one conceded the right teacher had been selected, and it would be a misfortune for any one to a.s.sume to take the place of the parson.

Not until the final summing up of all accounts, will the full measure of the influence of the little one be known. It was gentle, subtle, almost imperceptible. Wade Ruggles never broke his resolve not to touch liquor. Inasmuch as an appet.i.te nourished for years, cannot be wholly extirpated in a day, he had his moments of intense yearning for stimulants, when the temptation was powerful, but his will was still more so, and the time came when the terrific thirst vanished entirely, though he knew it was simply "asleep" and could be roused into resistless fury by indulgence in a single gla.s.s.

The parson had a severer struggle. After holding out for days, he yielded, and by his inordinate dissipation brought back matters to a fair average. Then he set about manfully to retrieve himself. A second time he fell, and then, thank heaven! he gained the mastery.

Henceforward he was safe.

Maurice Dawson himself had been an occasional tippler for years, but he felt the influence of example and experienced no trouble in giving up the habit. Several others did the same, while more tried but "fell by the wayside."

Landlord Ortigies noticed the diminution in his receipts, but, strange as it may sound, down in his heart he was not sorry. Like nine out of ten engaged in his business he was dissatisfied, and like the same nine out of ten, he longed for the chance to take up some other calling which would bring him bread and b.u.t.ter and no accusing pangs of conscience.

Before the coming of Nellie Dawson, brawls and personal encounters often occurred. The walls of the Heavenly Bower contained several pounds of lead. Blood had been shed, and the history of the settlement showed that three persons had died with their boots on, but those stirring days seemed to have departed forever.