The Land of Lure: A Story of the Columbia River Basin

by Elliott Smith

Jack Norton turned, and taking one more long look at their starting point, allowing his gaze to wander out across the desert and after a few minutes pause answered Gully's remark by saying: "It might be that I have not given up." Travis Gully, who rather liked the young fellow, slapped him on the back and exclaimed: "That's the spirit. You might take a notion to come back with us. Well, if you do, your claim will still be safe. You know you have six months off." Jack Norton did not reply to this. He evidently did not know or had not thought but what his temporary absence from his claim would forfeit it. He sat silent for a few moments, looked back in the direction from which they had come, and remarked, "Looks good to me," and was noticeably more cheerful during the remainder of the day.

The early morning start and favorable conditions enabled them to cover the worst of their journey the first day, and the camp for the night was made far up in the grand coulee, within a few miles of where they would emerge upon the plateau where the grain fields began.

A small stream trickled down from the face of the bluff that formed the east wall of the coulee. The spring from which it flowed was inaccessable, so it was necessary to catch the water in pails as it dripped from the rock ledge far above, for it disappeared as soon as it reached the sandy bottom of the coulee.

Beautiful grasses grew at the bottom of the cliff, where the water wasted away, and rare specimens of ferns adorned the face of the rock over which it flowed, far above the reach of man. The place had been noted by those of the party who were on the trip the fall before, and the professor had expressed a desire to obtain some of the ferns for specimens during their stay in the camp. Knowing that they had ample time, as they were not due at their destination for two days, and that they could reach it the following afternoon, they decided to remain in camp the forenoon of the following day and rest their horses.

It was just before sundown when they went into camp, but knowing from past experience that the twilight between those towering walls was short, they hurriedly accumulated a sufficient quantity of sagebrush for fuel during the night, and after placing their only water pail beneath the drip of the trickling stream, awaited its filling for water with which to make coffee.

After this was procured and the coffee set to boil, Travis Gully led his horses to the patch of grass and allowed them to browse while the water dripped into the pail, and as it filled he gave each horse in its turn a drink. The evening shadows were slowly creeping upward and could be clearly outlined upon the face of the cliff that formed the west wall of the coulee. An occasional bird fluttered into one of the crevices that marred the face of the cliff, seeking shelter for the night. The only sound that disturbed the oppressive silence was that produced by the horses cropping the succulent grass and the drip, drip of the water in the pail.

The conversation at the camp fire had ceased. Gully noticing this glanced toward the small group of men assembled there in search of the cause; apparently there was none. The lunch box had been brought from the wagon and stood open near the camp fire; the blanket rolls had been thrown into a pile off to one side, and reclining against this, with his back toward the fire, young Jack Norton sat and gazed wistfully down the coulee. Gully noted the expression on the young man's face and wondered at its seriousness. He had never questioned Norton as to his affairs, and such knowledge as he had gained of the young man's life had been volunteered by him.

That he was from the south, Texas he thought, and that he had left his home the year before, when he had reached his twenty-first birthday. No reference had ever been made by him as to his relatives or home. He had come into the neighborhood where Gully met him with a party consisting of several different families, none of whom had known or seen him until he happened to drive out from the station with a number of prospective settlers under the guidance of a real estate agent who had located the majority of them.

His pleasing personality had won him much favor at the literary society, where he took an active part. Being the possessor of a splendid voice his singing was highly appreciated, and Travis Gully recalled the fact that Miss Anderson, the school teacher, had at one time expressed the opinion that his education was far above the average. Yet knowing as little as he did, Gully's heart went out to the lonely young fellow, and he attributed his failure as a homesteader to the lack of advice and encouragement, so he determined, if the opportunity presented itself, and it probably would on this trip, to speak to him and to try and persuade him to remain on his claim and try again the following year.

Darkness had now fallen, and when additional fuel had been thrown onto the dying embers of the camp fire and flared up, illuminating the surroundings, Gully called to Jack Norton to come and lend a helping hand with the horses and to another member of the party to get the pail of water that had accumulated, after which he returned to the wagon, and when his horses had been fed he joined the others at the fire.