The Heritage of Dedlow Marsh and Other TalesHarte, Bret
General
The Heritage of Dedlow Marsh and Other Tales
Harte, Bret
California -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Western stories
And yet, perhaps, we had as little reason for it as we had for
remaining there. There was no warrant for any belief in the special
divining power of the unknown Lacy Bassett, except Captain Jim's
extravagant faith in his general superiority, and even that had always
been a source of amused skepticism to the camp. We were already
impatiently familiar with the opinions of this unseen oracle; he was
always impending in Captain Jim's speech as a fragrant memory or an
unquestioned authority. When Captain Jim began, "Ez Lacy was one day
tellin' me," or, "Ez Lacy Bassett allows," or more formally, when
strangers were present, "Ez a partickler friend o' mine, Lacy
Bassett--maybe ez you know him--sez," the youthful and lighter members
of the Eureka Mining Company glanced at each other in furtive
enjoyment. Nevertheless no one looked more eagerly forward to the
arrival of this apocryphal sage than these indolent skeptics. It was
at least an excitement; they were equally ready to accept his
condemnation of the locality or his justification of their original
selection.
He came. He was received by the Eureka Mining Company lying on their
backs on the grassy site of the prospective quartz mill, not far from
the equally hypothetical "slide" to the gulch. He came by the future
stage road--at present a thickset jungle of scrub-oaks and ferns. He
was accompanied by Captain Jim, who had gone to meet him on the trail,
and for a few moments all critical inspection of himself was withheld
by the extraordinary effect he seemed to have upon the faculties of his
introducer.
Anything like the absolute prepossession of Captain Jim by this
stranger we had never imagined. He approached us running a little
ahead of his guest, and now and then returning assuringly to his side
with the expression of a devoted Newfoundland dog, which in fluffiness
he generally resembled. And now, even after the introduction was over,
when he made a point of standing aside in an affectation of
carelessness, with his hands in his pockets, the simulation was so
apparent, and his consciousness and absorption in his friend so
obvious, that it was a relief to us to recall him into the conversation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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