CHAPTER XXII
A STRANGER APPEARS
Hiram Strong was learning something about corn growing that he had not found out before. That is, after all, one of the greatest charms of the science of agriculture: There is always something new to learn.
There is in addition always something new to find out regarding the methods adopted in different localities for the cultivation of the same crop. Farmers who have cultivated a certain plant in a certain locality where their fathers and grandfathers have grown the same plant, usually develop an almost uncanny knowledge of the conditions under which that particular plant will best grow and come to fruitage.
All the scientific knowledge of farming methods does not come from the agriculture colleges; the ordinary farmer often cultivates his crop in a certain way because it is the right way without knowing the reason for following that particular method.
One thing about growing corn in this Middle West section of the country was fast becoming a conviction in Hiram Strong's mind. Methods which had grown him a bumper crop of corn in the East might work quite as well here on Sunnyside Farm, but there had arisen objections to them. He had admitted as much to Orrin Post on a recent occasion.
His old methods were quite necessary for the locality in which he had used them. But corn growing on the Atterson Eighty and corn growing on Sunnyside Farm were two distinctly different matters.
"Always something new to learn," Hiram said to his companion.
"Right you are," answered Orrin. "A good deal to learn," and he sighed heavily.
Throughout July and more than half of August Hiram and Orrin worked almost on the run to keep up with the growing corn. Jerry and his mate lost flesh under this grilling work. To get over all the fields, and at the proper time, with one-horse cultivators, was an almost superhuman task.
Besides, Hiram watched the shallow cultivation of his neighbors' corn. They used two- and three-horse knife-hoes that stirred the soil scarcely an inch deep and left the earth between the rows just as level as the harrow had left it when the field was first smoothed.
Most of these farms about Sunnyside were more heavily manured than the fields that Hiram cultivated. The neighboring farms had not been cropped to death by careless tenants.
These neighbors planted their corn in rows rather than checking it. The stalks stood twelve to fifteen inches apart in the row, making more than twice the number of hills to the acre than Hiram had planted.
He was satisfied that he had planted and left to grow all the corn his land would develop properly. Two stalks to a hill and two good ears to a stalk was better to his mind than more fodder and less corn.
The cultivating method followed by the neighboring farmers was not all it might be. The two- and three-horse cultivators left much to be desired. There were more weeds left in the row than Hiram cared to see. When he and Orrin got through cultivating a piece of corn they could safely have offered a prize for any weed in the field that had not been covered.
In this connection, however, Hiram had something to learn, too. This land was not so cursed with weeds as that he had been used to cultivating farther East. There was no twitch-grass, wild mustard, or purslane. After many years of deep plowing and crop rotation, the fields of this part of the corn-belt were comparatively free of weeds. Only on land that had been allowed to lie fallow were the weeds a pest.
The fields of Sunnyside Farm must be greatly improved before Hiram could, however, take up the local methods of corn growing in every particular.
He knew of no improving crop better suited to his needs than crimson clover. It is rich in nitrogen, makes a heavy crop of hay before corn-planting time, and it could be sowed at the last cultivation of the present corn crop.
The drawback was that it necessitated the cutting of the corn to the ground and the removal of the shocks from the field. On the better farms near by the corn was allowed to cure on the standing stalk and then the cattle and hogs were turned in to graze on the fodder, the stalks being knocked down and cut up by the disc harrow before plowing in the spring.
That was another method Hiram could not adopt. If his clover catch was worth anything at all he did not want the corn stalks mixed with it at hay-making time. He talked the matter over with Mr. Bronson, and a machine was secured at harvesting time that, drawn by one of the Percherons, went through the field cutting two rows of corn at a time and giving the two men working with it all they could do shocking the corn at proper intervals.
This corn finished curing in the shock and the husking was done at the barn where the fodder was stacked against the increasing need of the herd of young stock that Mr. Bronson was continually adding to.
This method of harvesting cost more in time and labor than Hiram could have desired; but it left his fields clean and gave the young clover a better chance.
The corn he had obtained from Daniel Brown proved to be all that Hiram had hoped it would be. That which he had raised for seed was so evenly matured and sound in the ear that Mr. Bronson admitted it was by far the most satisfactory variety Hiram had tried. And how it did mount up in the cribs with its glossy red and yellow grains!
The wheat thrashing had yielded Hiram not more than sixteen to eighteen bushels to the acre—scarcely a paying investment. But it was all profit for Mr. Bronson, as the crop had been planted when he bought the farm.
Hiram knew well enough where the fault lay. The land was not strong enough for wheat, and he proposed to plant but a small acreage to that grain for the next season.
"Oats will pay us better, I believe. Some of this upland can be plowed early in the spring, and as soon as the oats are off we'll disc and put in cowpeas, turning them under for the corn crop."
"Ow!" ejaculated his employer, "do you mean to plow under both the oat stubble and the peas for the corn?"
"If you want corn—real corn," the young fellow told him. "This land is poverty stricken. And give me all the cattle you can find, Mr. Bronson. I'll manage to feed them somehow or other."
The ensilage crop demanded his attention and the labor of all the hands for the better part of a week. Even Mr. Turner had been forced to confess that something had happened to that twenty acres of Sunnyside along the county road that heretofore had yielded such poor crops. Since Hiram's underdraining scheme had gone into effect the soil seemed entirely different. The corn and cowpeas had grown like a rank swamp. When cut and carted to the shredder it was so heavy it was all a man could do to lift a forkful.
It was not particularly hard to load the wagon in the field; getting the ensilage off the cart was the more difficult part of the job.
A brief experience taught the young farm manager something. He unhung the wagon and put the low wheels behind and the big wheels in front. With side racks spread at a wide angle and chains front and rear to hold the racks, they were enabled to pile an enormous load upon the sloping wagon body.
The Percherons could pull all the ensilage the men could pile on. When drawn to the shredder all that was needed was to unfasten the chains at front and rear and draw the wagon out from under the load.
This was quick work and kept the crew at the shredder busy all the time. The ensilage was blown into the silo as rapidly as it was shredded, and at the end of the week the huge tank was filled.
Hiram at once had the twenty-acre piece broadcasted with stable manure, and as the heavy crop of corn and peas had kept the soil comparatively moist it was plowed much easier than might have been expected after the August drought. At wheat planting Hiram used a good fertilizer in the drill and set the sprouts to run about a bushel and a half rather than a bushel and a peck to the acre.
This he did save on the lower four acres next to Yancey Battick's place. This patch was considered by both Mr. Bronson and Battick the best soil for experiment with the new wheat, and Battick planted the wonderful new grain himself, using a hand-sower and sowing only three pecks to the acre.
The new wheat plant proved to stool so heavily that Battick claimed the field would be quite as well covered in the spring as the rest of the twenty acres. Hiram had observed the stooling property of the new wheat; but he had some doubt about its being well to sow the grain so thinly. He feared it would not furnish sufficient protection for the ground.
But as this crop was for seed rather than for bulk of grain, it might be all right. In any case the young farmer watched the experiment with much interest.
Long before Thanksgiving the farm work was pretty well cleared up. Hiram kept only Orrin and the boy, Jim Larry, to help him do the winter chores. The three of them could feed the cattle, draw out the stable manure and spread it on the corn land which he would first plow in the early spring, and do the other necessary winter work.
The house had been long since finished, although the interior had not been decorated, as Mr. Bronson wished to wait for the house to settle. It was otherwise ready for occupancy and there was a heating plant in the cellar. Hiram and the boys moved into the house when the weather became severe and started the furnace. Mr. Bronson furnished some necessities in the way of cots and warm blankets, and the three were very comfortable.
Miss Delia Pringle insisted upon coming over on frequent occasions and "ridding up" for them.
"For, talk as you will, men-folks ain't fitted by nature to be good housekeepers. For the land's sake! I remember once my mother and I went away from home for a time and left father alone, and when we came back we couldn't tell for the mess there was whether it was father or the dog that had lived in the kitchen. I am sure of one thing—the dog-kennel was a long sight the cleanest!"
Miss Pringle was anxious to have another dance in the new house at Sunnyside; but Hiram did not like to ask Mr. Bronson for permission. There were certain rough fellows in the neighborhood who Hiram believed had helped Adam Banks loose Turner's bull on the occasion of the former dance. Besides, Ad Banks himself was at home again for the winter.
What the fellow had been doing about Sunnyside at the time of the tornado in June, Hiram had never discovered. He certainly had not remained at home for long on that occasion. Yancey Battick was not at all convinced that Banks had not come straight from Loomisville for the express purpose of burning his stack of wheat. Battick still clung to the belief that the men who had stolen his Mortgage Lifter Oats had information of the new wheat, and were determined to ruin his chances of raising a crop of it for seed if they could do so. Adam Banks would be a perfect instrument to their hands, he declared, and he felt that Banks must be watched closely.
However this might be, Hiram did not wish to tempt the ne'er-do-well to try any further tricks about Sunnyside Farm. Hiram, with Orrin and Jim Larry, were always on the keen lookout for Adam Banks. Orrin, by this time, was in good health and quite able to defend himself in any case. His ability to work well and his willingness pleased Hiram immeasurably. If only the fellow was not so secretive about his past! Hiram knew little more about Orrin Post now than he had when he found him in the calf shed, eight or nine months before.
Orrin in all this time had never mentioned his family, his friends, where he was born, or what his circumstances had been before he came to Sunnyside Farm. His having been driven away by his former employer when he was taken ill, was positively all the information he had vouchsafed.
Hiram had learned that he had come through Pringleton the day he had arrived at Sunnyside. Previous to such arrival, however, Orrin Post's life was a total blank to the young farm manager.
Hiram did not believe that Orrin's previous life had been a happy existence. It might be even that he had had trouble with the police, and for that reason was so close-mouthed. Nevertheless, Hiram kept such thoughts as this to himself. For his own part he accepted Orrin Post at his face value.
The three young fellows at Sunnyside used the kitchen to cook and eat in, set up their cots in the dining room, and occasionally on a rainy day or on Sunday sat in the parlor, where they could watch the road through the broad windows.
They were doing this last on one dripping Sunday afternoon, when Jim spied a vehicle coming up the hill from the direction of Battick's and Pringleton. He did not identify the horses or the man driving them.
"Stranger in this neighborhood," he announced. "That fellow driving has got a bushel of whiskers on his face. Did you ever see the like?"
Hiram was reading and did not even get up to look out. Orrin, however, examined the approaching turnout at some length, but he made no comment and finally drifted out of the room. Hiram heard him open and close the back door just as Jim exclaimed:
"Hey! Old Whiskers is stopping here. He's waving his whip and calling. What do you suppose he wants, Mr. Strong?"
Hiram put down his book. "The best way to find out is to ask him," he said laughing, and rose to go to the front door.