“Dear me!” exclaimed the vivacious Katie. “How can I put it where I can see it often, yet contrive to keep it free from smoke and dust?” She gave a forlorn kind of glance at the unplastered walls, through chinks of which glimpses of the sky were visible. The fact was, neither they nor their friends had been aware of the rough conditions of a settler’s life; and the cousins had brought with them many pretty little keepsakes, which they could find no places for. But it was a rule with them to utter no complaints, to add to the weight of cares already resting on their noble husbands. So the forlorn look quickly gave place to a smile, as Kate kissed her cousin, and said, “I’ll tell you what I will do, Allie dear. I will keep it in my heart.”
“It is a large place, and blesses all it keeps. That I can bear witness to,” said John. * * * *
There was need that the women of Kansas should overlook their own inconveniences, and be silent about their own sufferings; for a thunder-cloud was gathering over the heads of the emigrants, and every week it grew blacker and blacker. It needed less quickness of observation than Katie possessed, to perceive, almost immediately after their arrival, that they were surrounded by dangerous enemies.
Her husband, knowing the reliable strength of her character, did not hesitate to confide to her his anxieties and fears for Kansas. But, as far as possible, they kept danger out of sight in their conversations with Alice. They had seen proof enough that she was strong in self-sacrifice, with abundant fortitude to endure for those she loved; but they knew that the life-blood of her soul was in her affections, and that perils in her husband’s path would undermine the strength she needed for her own. Her busy hands were almost entirely employed with in-door occupations; sewing and mending for the whole family, keeping the rooms tidy, and assisting about the daily cooking. If it was necessary to purchase a pail, or pan, or any other household convenience, it was Katie who sallied forth into Massachusetts street to examine such articles as were for sale at the little shanty shops. If water was wanted, when the men were absent, she put on her deep cape-bonnet, and took the pail to the nearest spring, nearly a quarter of a mile distant; for there was so much work pressing to be done in Lawrence, that as yet there had been no time found to construct wells; and the water of the river became shallow and turbid under the summer sun. These excursions were at first amusing from their novelty, and she came home with a lively account of odd-looking Missouri cattle-drovers, and Indian squaws, with bags full of papooses strapped to their shoulders. But gradually the tone of merriment subsided; and when she had occasion to go into the street, she usually returned silent and thoughtful. Fierce-looking Missourians, from the neighbouring border, scowled at her as she passed, and took pleasure in making their horses rear and plunge across her path. In the little shops she often found more or less of these ruffians, half-tipsy, with hair unkempt, and beards like cotton-cards, squirting tobacco-juice in every direction, and interlarding their conversation with oaths and curses. Every one that entered was hailed with the interrogatory, “Stranger, whar ar yer from?” If their answer indicated any place north of the Ohio, and east of the Mississippi, the response was, “Damn yer, holler-hearted Yankees! What business have you in these diggens? You’d better clar out, I tell yer.”
On one of these occasions, a dirty drunken fellow said to Kate, “They tell me you are an all-fired smart woman. Are you pro-slave? or do you go in for the abolitionists?”
Concealing the disgust she felt, she quietly replied, “I wish to see Kansas a Free State, because I have her prosperity at heart.”
“Damn yer imperdence!” exclaimed the brute. “I should like to see you chained up with one of our niggers. I’ll be cussed if I would’nt help to do it.” And he finished by stooping down and squirting a quantity of tobacco-juice into her face.
There was another Missourian in the shop, a tall burly looking cattle drover, with a long whip in his hand. He seized the other roughly by the arm, saying, “I tell you what, my boy, that’s puttin it on a little too thick. I’m pro-slave. If you’re for a far fight with the Yankees, Tom Thorpe’s the man for yer work. But I’m down on all sich fixens. Let the woman alone!”
The rowdy drew his bowie-knife, with a volley of oaths, and Katie darted from the shop, leaving her purchases uncompleted. When she returned, she found her mother busy about dinner, and Alice sitting at the window, making a coarse frock. She raised her head and smiled, when her cousin entered, but immediately looked out toward Mount Oread. When she first saw that verdant slope, she had fallen in love with its beauty; then she had been attracted by the classic name, conferred on it by a scholar among the emigrants. There was something romantic in thus transporting the Mountain Spirits of ancient Greece into the loveliest portions of this new Western World. William often quoted Leigh Hunt’s verses, about
“The Oreads, that frequent the lifted mountains;
* * * * * * * and o’er deep ravines
Sit listening to the talking streams below.”