The Land of Lure: A Story of the Columbia River BasinSmith, Elliott
General
The Land of Lure: A Story of the Columbia River Basin
Smith, Elliott
Frontier and pioneer life -- Fiction; Northwest, Pacific -- Fiction
He thought of her as he had last seen her, as she stood at the camp near
the well, struggling to withhold the tears that he know too well had
flown many times since he left. He recalled the pitiful effort she had
made to dress for the occasion of his departure; of her brown dress, her
best dress, the one that had been carefully made, stitch by stitch, in
preparation for their long journey from their old home to the land of
promise; how it had withstood the days of constant wear while she was
cramped up in the tourist coach, being whirled away across the
continent, and how guardedly she had spread the cloth upon her lap to
protect the precious fabric from being soiled by the touch of many
little fingers made greasy by clutching the huge sandwiches of fried
chicken, ham and cheese, with which the spacious hamper, their traveling
companion, was bounteously provisioned; and how after their arrival, and
while seeking a suitable location, it had been subjected to countless
brushings and spongings, until at last it bore all too plainly the
evidences of the hard usages to which it had been called up to submit.
And yet, it was still her best.
She should have a new dress, one that he himself had bought, and without
hesitating he approached the expectant merchant to make known his wants,
and here his confusion was made evident. Never having made a purchase of
this nature, he was at a loss as to quantity, quality and color. After
numerous suggestions from the over-anxious merchant a selection was
made, the required number of yards guessed at and measured off. Then
after purchasing a small carton of animal crackers and some peanuts and
candy for each of the children, he paid the amount of his purchase, and
with his precious bundles tucked beneath his arm sought the camping
place.
As he approached the camp fire around which his companions were seated,
he was seized with a desire to hide his bundles lest they might jeer him
good-naturedly about his extravagance. He tried to reach the wagon by a
circuitous route to avoid observation until he had hidden his bundles.
In this effort he was partially successful, but the others had seen him
in time to arouse their suspicions, and they accused him of buying a new
suit. To this he entered a strenuous denial, but looked guilty and felt
uncomfortable the remainder of the evening. He did not join in the
conversation that followed his arrival, but sat, as the firelight died
down, and watched across the barren waste for the first twinkling light
that might give evidence that human beings inhabited this vast region
of hidden possibilities.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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