On the frontier : $b or, Scenes in the WestPearson, C. H. (Charles Henry)
General
On the frontier : $b or, Scenes in the West
Pearson, C. H. (Charles Henry)
Frontier and pioneer life -- United States -- Juvenile fiction; Sunday school literature
Brave, and physically powerful, he sometimes takes the law into his own
hands, and settles quarrels. Not a few "new country" differences, of
threatening aspect, have vanished before his stalwart form. As when,
for example, a tempting "claim" was in dispute, and the rival party
had gathered in force to drive the other away. Coolly listening to the
altercation, he would espouse the side he judged in the right,—perhaps
the weaker; then, laying aside his coat, as their champion, offer to
decide the case by an appeal to muscular force, announcing himself
ready to meet "any three" of the trespassers. But, however, the
challenge was not accepted. Whether the sight of that huge fist excited
fear, or conscience, or both, it proved a potent pacificator.
He was also well read,—a fluent public speaker, when once under way,
and in debate, an opponent not to be despised. A politician, too, he
had graced more than one new State legislature. And though in his early
days in Maine he stood well as a church-member, he was now, alas! an
avowed skeptic;—perhaps not a strange sequence to years of migratory
life in California and the West.
Many a fine chat had Mr. B. and I enjoyed together, seated before
the ample clay-stick-and-stone fireplace in his cabin, as he solaced
himself with his pipe of an evening; and though, at times, I pressed
home the claims of religion, he was not offended, if not convinced.
But this was before the fierce wintery blockade had cut off neighborly
intercourse.
The object of his call was at once stated. It appeared that, recently,
having got out of supplies, he had ventured to break a road to M—, a
settlement eleven miles distant, to buy flour and other stores. While
there, he heard that a lad, twelve years of age, was frozen to death
on the prairie, the first of the season, and that the parents were
so deeply afflicted that it was feared the mother's reason would be
unsettled. His sympathies being stirred, he visited the sorrowing
household to offer consolation. To his surprise, his words were
powerless. Nothing he could say, however kind or well-reasoned, reached
their case; and, baffled, he saw they needed divine sympathy, of which
he could not speak. He advised them, therefore, to call in a Christian
minister.
Weepingly, they rejoined that they knew not as there was one in all the
region.
"There is one tarrying in my neighborhood," he replied, "and I doubt
not he will cheerfully come, preach a funeral discourse at your house,
and do all he can for your peace of mind."
"And now," said he, after narrating the above, "if you will set a time
to go over, I will carry them word, that they may arrange for your
coming, and give due notice of the sermon."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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