It looked as if ill-fortune was to follow him so long at least as he stayed in South Dakota, for sickness, accident, and misfortune succeeded each other, until he would have despaired but for those around him.
His wife was well fitted to be the helpmate of a pioneer, for she was hopeful, industrious, strong, and brave. She carefully nursed him, making light of their afflictions, and declaring that all would soon come right, and that prosperity would prove the sweeter from having been deferred so long.
Edith, bright-eyed, pretty, affectionate and loving, was the comfort of those hours which otherwise would have been intolerably dismal, when confined in his small humble home. He read to and taught her, told her delightful fairy stories, listened to her innocent prattle and exchanged the sweetest of confidences.
Sometimes Hugh Kingsland wondered after all whether he was not the most fortunate individual in the world in being thus blessed in his family relations.
And there was another from whom the meed of praise must not be withheld. That was Brinton, now close upon seventeen years of age. The ill-fortune to which we have alluded made him in one sense the virtual head of the family. He was strong, cheerful, and resembled his mother in his hopeful disposition. The difficulties in which his father was continually involved brought out the real manhood of his nature. He looked after the cattle and live stock, galloped across the plains to Hermosa, Fairburn, Rapid City, and other points for supplies or on other business, or, fording the Big Cheyenne, White, and smaller streams, crossed the reservation to Pine Ridge.
The youth was indispensable, and did his work so well, that the father, in his occasional moments of rallying, remarked that he thought of continuing to play the sick man, since it was proved that he was of no account.
"I hope you will soon become well," said the red-cheeked lad one evening, as the group gathered around the fire; "but stay here in the house as long as you wish, for mother and Edith and I can get along without your help."
"Yes, husband; don't fret over that. Only become well, and until you do so, be assured that everything is going along as it should."
"I have never had a doubt of that; but, ah me," he added with a sigh, "this is tiresome after all, especially when it begins to look as though I shall never be well again."
"For my part," said Edith very earnestly, "I don't want you to get well, and I am praying that you will not."