Little Wolf Part 1

Little Wolf.

by M. A. Cornelius.

CHAPTER I.

A SAD BREAKFAST--THE SHERMAN FAMILY--THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS--WHAT A YOUNG MAN WAS SURE OF--THE PARTING.

Early in the morning of a long ago midsummer's day, the inmates of a quiet New England home were making unusual preparations for the approaching repast. The mistress of the house was ostensibly overseeing the table; but there was an uncertainty in her movements, which indicated a contradictory mingling of interest and abstraction, such as agitates the mind, when trifles intrude on more weighty matters. Not so the maid in attendance, who had served in her present capacity for more than twenty years, and was without dispute an adept in the culinary department, if not in affairs of the heart. She was not so obtuse, however, in the present instance, as not to perceive the uncomfortable state of her mistress, and, notwithstanding the pressure of business in hand, she magnanimously paused a moment to attempt a word of comfort. How to approach a subject which had been continually on the lips of the whole family for weeks, was now the poor girl's difficulty. Every instant was precious. She was in a measure neglecting the smoking viands under her supervision, and her long established reputation as cook was in jeopardy. At this critical juncture she blundered out, "Mrs. Sherman, it's a pity; indeed, it is, that he, that Edward, is bent on going."

"Why, Recta," interrupted a musical voice reproachfully, "ma is already convinced that it is a pity Edward is going. It remains for us to persuade her that he will speedily return."

"Bless my heart, is that Miss Louise?" said Recta, turning to the person who had so unceremoniously interrupted her condolements. "Well, now, I declare," she continued, "if I ain't beat. Young girls have great arts of covering up their feelings. There's Miss Louise taking on, and walking her chamber all night, and now she's telling me what to say as unconcerned as if this wasn't the last meal she was going to enjoy with her only brother."

"O fie, Recta, haven't I told you that Edward is coming home again soon," said Louise, and, she added with a blush, "You must have heard kitty in your dreams, and magnified her step into mine. You know you have often said my tread was as light as Tabby's."

"But it wasn't, last night," persisted the other, "it was as heavy as lead."

The blush deepened on the young lady's cheek; not so much on account of the audacity with which this privileged servant had a.s.sailed her veracity, as for other and more private reasons, herein unfolded. It was not indeed, the distress occasioned by her brother's departure, which, as intimated in the preceding conversation, was about to occur, that she desired to hide; but there was one to accompany him, on whom she had bestowed more than a sister's love, and furthermore, this friend, having arrived the day before, had progressed, perhaps farther in his suit than on any former occasion, Such being the state of the case, it was natural, that, with her lover under the same roof, she should be jealous of exhibiting feelings, others than a sister's love would warrant. To cover her confusion, therefore, which Recta secretly exulted in having occasioned, she retorted;

"Heavy footsteps! ridiculous! Look at me," and she drew up her slight little figure; "for shame, Recta; confess it was your heavy ears, and I'll forgive you."

Recta compressed her lips and Louise immediately changed her tactics.

"What a nice breakfast! Recta knows what Ned likes, don't she, ma?

Fie! Ned wont stay long away from Recta and broiled chickens, will he, ma?"

Recta's lips visibly expanded. "I reckon he won't stay long away from Miss Louise and flowers," said she, glancing at a beautiful bouquet, which Louise held in her hand.

"Aren't they lovely, Recta? I've just gathered them fresh for Edward.

Now I'll arrange them on the table, while you put on the hot dishes.'"

"Gathered for Edward, as much as they are for me," muttered the unconquered servant. "Roses and forget-me-nots mean--well, George Goodrich will know what they mean; that's enough."

As dispatch was no mean part of the cook's accomplishments, it was not long before the parties mentioned in her private conjectures were seated at the breakfast table, in company with the family, the names of all of whom we know already. It will be observed that allusion has been made to but one parent. The memory of the other, still lived fresh in the affections of his wife and children, and deserves first notice among those whose plans and persons we shall endeavor in a few words, to introduce more minutely to the reader.

Judge Sherman was a man, who, through a long and active life, was distinguished for inflexible integrity, and, by means of sterling talents, he rose to the first rank in his profession as a lawyer. He married at an early age, although his courtship approached closely to the term of years which Jacob served for Rachel. Political differences of opinion were the obstacles which opposed his suit. In those days the Federalists and Democrats indulged in animosities as bitter as those which existed between the Jews and Samaritans. The latter party, being in its infancy, could ill afford to lose even a petticoat from its ranks. Luckily for the young Federalist, the lady of his choice was in her heart a rebel to her father's will and purposes. But after she became Mrs. Sherman, the united influences of both did not annihilate the opposite party, as its future history, clearly demonstrates. The ball, set rolling by Jefferson, continued to roll on, and Judge Sherman, to the day of his death, never saw his favorite principles triumph. In his efforts of a pecuniary nature he was more successful. He had acc.u.mulated a handsome property, consisting mainly of many broad acres of well-cultivated Ma.s.sachusetts soil, which, for a long course of years, had been in charge of a faithful and efficient tenant, occupying a cottage a short distance from his own dwelling, a plain old-fashioned house, situated on an airy knoll near the centre of his domains.

Here, for nearly two years after her husband's death, Mrs. Sherman lived in seclusion, receiving only occasional visits from her children, Edward and Louise. The son being engaged in studying his father's profession, while the daughter was at school preparing herself, it would be safe to say, to follow her mother's business.

Indeed, it was a fixed fact in her own mind, that when George Goodrich, her brother's warm friend and her ladyship's still warmer admirer, should become established in his profession as a physician, she would then trust herself to his care, without fear of poverty or disease. But the young M. D. having no patrimony, and becoming disgusted with the slow path in which he was treading to fortune, resolved to turn his course into a rougher road at the far West.

About the same time, Edward Sherman, having been admitted to the Bar, with no other reason except Yankee restlessness and craving, turned his thoughts in a similar direction. On discovering to each other their mutual proclivities, the friends determined to set out together, as soon as Edward could gain his mother's consent, for the Territory of Minnesota. With characteristic n.o.bleness and fort.i.tude, Mrs.

Sherman sacrificed her her own to her son's wishes, and it was not until the morning of his departure, that her courage faltered.

Mother-like she sat at the head of the table, unable to swallow a mouthful herself, while urging every delicacy upon her darling son.

"Do, dear Edward, have another cup of coffee," she pleaded, observing that his cup was empty, while his breakfast remained untasted.

"Well, just to accommodate," said Edward smiling. "I really have not much appet.i.te this morning."

"I'm glad you can relish it, Mr. Edward," said Recta, in a whining tone. "It's seasoned with old Spot's cream, and I'm thinking it will be a long time before you'll taste any more tame milk, out there among them wild cattle."

At this remark, the great square dining-room rang with the laughter of the younger occupants of the old-fashioned straight backed chairs,--this being the only room in the house, to which the progressive spirit had not yet extended, except, indeed, that which was manifested in the cut gla.s.s decanters, standing _empty_ on the handsome sideboard.

A deep convulsive sob broke from Mrs. Sherman, and the merriment instantly ceased. The mother leaned forward and covering her face with her hands, gave vent to her long suppressed feelings. Edward was by her side in an instant, and throwing his arms around her neck, exclaimed:

"Mother, I will not leave you!"

"Then I can't go alone," whispered George Goodrich to Louise.

"Ma," said Louise, "Dr. Goodrich says he will stay, too."

"No, not quite that," said the embarra.s.sed lover.

"O, you must both go," interrupted Mrs. Sherman, recovering with an effort her presence of mind; "and we are wasting precious time," she continued, pointing to the clock, with returning firmness.

The old clock which occupied one corner in seven feet grandeur, would as soon have thought of stopping to indulge in sighs and tears, as would Mrs. Sherman, when her spirit was moved to the necessity for action. So, all the scruples of her son were peremptorily shut out of existence, and Recta, frowned into silence, withheld the probe, which, having fallen into the common error, she had mistaken for the healing salve.

In pa.s.sing briefly over the season of parting, there is an item which should claim special attention for a moment, as it is intimately connected with the destination of our adventurers.

As Edward stood by the family carriage, which was to transport them to the public conveyance, while waiting for his friend, who had appropriated to himself a private moment with Louise, Mrs. Sherman inquired rather anxiously, "Edward, have you that letter?"

"Yes, mother," and, more to fill up an unpleasant gap of time than to prove his veracity, he produced from his pocket the missive. It was superscribed, "Dr. DeWolf, Chimney Rock, Minnesota Territory."

Prompted by the same motive which had actuated the other, Mrs. Sherman repeated some of her previous instructions.

"Now, Edward, when you arrive at Penddleton, by all means make an immediate effort to discover the whereabouts of Dr. DeWolf. I should much like to hear from your father's early friend. I think he states, in the only letter we have ever received from him, that he has fixed his home at Chimney Rock, in the vicinity of Pendleton. However, he may have removed from there by this time, although he was not of a roving disposition. The persuasions of an affectionate wife, who saw with anxiety, her husband's growing love for the wine cup, induced him to emigrate to the far West. In breaking away from the a.s.sociations which led him to form the habit, she hoped he might attain that rank in his profession, which his brilliant youth had promised. Edward,"

and here Mrs. Sherman's voice sank to a whisper, "your father was saved about that time. It was by signing the Washingtonian Temperance Pledge. Be warned, my son, and flee the temptation which had well nigh stigmatized you as a drunkard's son. I have always intended to tell you this, but the subject was too harrowing. I could not do it."

"You might have saved yourself the pain, now, mother," said Edward proudly; "There is no danger of _me_."

That positive declaration came from just such a son, as many a widowed mother and affectionate sister have doted on. Generous, warm-hearted, and strikingly handsome, Edward Sherman, appeared a perfect type of manhood. Were it not that the n.o.blest forms have sometimes hid blemished souls the world had not so often been baptized in tears.

The lovers were now at hand. Time had flown with them on a "dove's wings," and its flutterings lightened their last adieu.

CHAPTER II.

PENDLETON--THE REVELATION AT THE SALOON--EUPHONIOUS NAMES--THE ENCOUNTER--OUR HEROINE APPEARS AND HIGHWAYMEN DISAPPEAR.

A journey of a few days brought our travellers to the lively, bustling village, which for convenience we have named Pendleton, situated on the Upper Mississippi. After several hours of rest and refreshment at their hotel, they sallied out to enjoy a pedestrian excursion in the cool of the day. Not much of the place of their sojourn was visible.

Gaslight, had not wandered so far from its birthplace. The enterprising inhabitants, however, had manufactured an article by the same name, but it was never known to generate light. The wagging of the machinery was all that came of it.

"Lager Beer," p.r.o.nounced Edward Sherman, glancing at the gilt letters, that stood out in bold relief on the illumined window of a fashionable saloon, which they were at the moment pa.s.sing.