Riggs—Good Rifle-shooting—The General wishes him to go to Ohio—Declines going—Reaches Wheeling, and is hired by John Caldwell —Gets acquainted with Daughter Nancy—His first Bear Hunt—Nancy described an Indian Attack—Old Lady does not treat him kindly—Stays four months— Leaves, to the regret of the family — Misfortunes of Caldwell's family.
Having left Mary in such a hurry in order to suppress my feelings, I feared that she would doubt my sincerity in what I had been saying to her at our last two meetings; and I stopped in the road to consider whether I should not go back to make all right. But, after some little re- flection, I said to myself, "Would I not look like a fool to be seen going back, no one but Mary knowing what had brought me there? But let her think what she pleases ; hang me if I will go back! "So saying, I tra- veled the road as fast as I could walk; but my toes were so sore from being frozen only the week before, that I made rather a slow walk of it; trying all the time to dis- pel the thoughts of Mary, and the manner in which I had left her. Almost before I knew where I was, I found my- self in full sight of Uncle James Spurgin's farm; having traveled seven miles on my way westward.
Entering the house, I was received kindly; and, a very cold night coming on, I was asked which way I was going. This was a tough question for me, as I was leaving his brother; but I resolved to tell the truth, anyhow.
" I am going to Wheeling, uncle," was my reply.
A HUNTER'S LIFE. 35
" So you have left John, have you? "
"Yes, sir. Uncle John is a good, kind man, but he is doing nothing for himself; and I can never do anything while I stay with him."
"That is true, Meshach; but what do you intend to go at, as you have no learning?"
"I cannot tell you, uncle, till 1 get there; and then whoever gives me the best wages I will work for."
"And how long will it take you to get to Wheeling? "
"I do not know, sir; for my feet were frozen so badly last week that I can't walk fast. But I have allowed my- self four days at the outside. That is twenty miles a day; and if my feet do not get worse I can do it in three."
" How much money have you ?"
" One dollar, sir."
"And do you think to get to Wheeling with one dollar, boy ? "
"I don't know, sir; but I have this buckskin,"—show- ing him the skin,—"and intend to sell that in Union Town for what it will bring; and it ought to be worth seventy-five cents, at any rate. I think that will take me there; and if it does not, I will turn out in the country and work a day or two, and then go on again."
"Well, Meshach," said he, " I will give you my advice if you will promise me to take it, and attend to it."
"That I will promise you to do, sir; for I know I stand in need of good counsel."
"Then," said he, "be sure to avoid bad company ; avoid all drunken crowds of rowdies and houses of ill-fame. Never suffer yourself to be drawn into them, for you will be tried often. And when these temptations appear be- fore you, then remember what I now tell you, and avoid them. Furthermore," he continued, "when you find a man who wishes to hire you, ascertain, if you can, whether be is honest; and if so, go to him, and do for him a just
36 FORTY-FOUR YEARS OF
and fair day's work. And if anything goes wrong, either owing to your neglect or accidentally, never tell a lie to screen yourself; but speak candidly, and acknowledge the truth of the whole matter. This will give your employer confidence in you. But, on the contrary, if you undertake to lie yourself out of it, you will be sure to be detected in so doing, and then you will be disgraced. Take it for granted, Meshach, that all good people despise a liar as much as they do a thief; and let me tell you, boy, a good name is the best thing that a young man can have. If you will take ray advice, and never tell a falsehood, under any circumstances whatever, you will in the end find that, in any and every place, truth is far better than a lie. And now, Meshach, I do not blame you for leaving your uncle John; and I wish you may have good luck in your under- taking, and that you may become a good and an honor- able man." Here he ceased speaking, being called to supper, which ended the discourse.
Supper being over, the old people went into another room, and left me to talk with my cousins. I was taxed strongly by Lina, for that was the name of the daughter whom I had left with so much unwillingness, and had cried in the road about, when I was driving the cows. She said she had heard I was deeply in love with Polly McMullen. I replied, it did not seem much as if I was in love with any one when I was then on my way to the West, perhaps never to comeback again. "But," said I, "let ma tell you, girls, that Mary McMullen is one of the sweetest girls in all this country ; and if I was old enough, and was as well situated as your brother Jesse is, I would like very well to marry her. Marry her! yes, indeed. Lord! wouldn't I like to take such a pretty little bird as Mary is 1 "
This was said in a joke; but my feelings were such that I feared that Lina would see something in me that would
A HUNTER'S LIFE 37
betray ray real sentiments. But it all passed off as a joke, and our time was spent very agreeably till the old people called out bedtime.
We all parted, and I lay a long time before I could persuade my eyes to close. Uncle's good advice had made a deep impression on my mind; and, seeing the benefit it was intended to be to me, I concluded that from that time forward I would never tell a lie. And I now declare so- lemnly that I have never, to this day, told what I knew to be false, except, perhaps, when I have been sometimes called on to relate some mischievous tales that were going the rounds; when I have said I knew nothing of the mat- ter; and in this way, and this only, have I ever departed from the known truth.
And here I say, thanks be to the name and to the me- mory of James Spurgin; to whom, I am free to acknow- ledge, together with another very kind friend of mine, of whom I shall speak hereafter, I owe all that I now am. However, nature overcame my feelings at last, and I knew nothing of myself till the old folks called for the boys to rise and make fires. Up we all bounded, and soon had them roaring and crackling. Then for feeding the stock. Snow had fallen during the night above knee-deep, and the morning was stormy and very cold. But out we ran, as if we would defy everything like snow and wind ; and soon we had fifty or sixty cattle fed with hay from the stack ; two pitching it off and one scattering it out.
"Now for the horses!" cried Jesse, as he started for the barn.
Off went Jonathan and myself; but Jesse had the start of us, and was throwing the hay on to the floor ; and in a few minutes the feeding was done, and we all gathered around the fine fireside. By this time the girls had break- fast ready, and all were seated; the conversation being mostly between the girls and myself, as to where I ex-
4
38 FORTY-FOUR YEARS OF
pected to make my residence, and when they should look for my return. To all questions 1 made the same reply— that it would be very uncertain when I should return, if I ever returned at all; when Lina took the opportunity to tell me when I would come back. That would be, she said, as soon as I began to think about that pretty little bird that I had been telling them of last night, I replied that I would go out to the far West and look me up a pretty little squaw, and live among the Indians and hunt buffaloes and bears.
" Well," said Lina, "when you undertake that, the In- dians will take off your
