“Where is Hill, the man I contracted the work to?” he asked. “Father is yonder in the wagon. He had an accident on the way and is not able to get out of the wagon by himself,” explained Will.
Mr. Jenkins walked around to where Ned and Mr. Hill were nodding drunkenly, and turning to the boys he said, “Been drinking I guess.” The boys said nothing, for both of them were heartily ashamed of their father’s condition.
Mr. Jenkins, who had a kinder heart than tongue, said some very hard things that night to the stupid men, but helped the boys to get them off the wagons and into bed.
“If a man has no respect for himself, he ought to have some for his children. Think of your dad being out with his little girls on a trip like this and getting into such a condition,” stormed their host. The boys made little reply, for nothing they could say could mend matters nor make them less mean. As for Henry Hill, he was past all feeling or consideration, being as stupid as if he were not a man at all. He hardly knew when he was placed in his bed.
There was little room in the ranch-house, and beds had to be piled upon the floors of some empty bins in the barn. Here the weary children were soon in sweet, forgetful sleep. When Austin lay down to rest, with his little sisters sleeping near by, he thought soberly and earnestly. His lot had been cast among the wicked, but by the grace of God he meant to make the best of it anyway, and do what he could for the little ones. It was hard to have as kind a feeling toward his father as a Christian should, but he was able to conquer himself and keep peace in his soul. Never will he forget the battle he fought that night with apprehensions, discouragements, and evil feelings toward his parent. Lying there in the dusty granary with the mice scampering about, he prayed, “O God, give me grace to feel toward Father as I should. Help me in the coming weeks to always do right. Show me how to protect the children, and forgive me for consenting to bring them on such a hazardous journey.”
CHAPTER 18. — SIX WEEKS OF HAYING
Morning came at last, bringing light and warmth, and the children were up and ready for the remainder of their journey. Mr. Hill and Ned were sober now, and luckily the bottle was empty. They were very cross and out of sorts from the effects of their drinking, but able to help with the work. Mr. Hill could limp about on his injured leg, and so they were soon off to their first camp.
At last they drove to the place that Mr. Hill had previously chosen to set up camp, and soon the tent was up and the stove ready for the fire, and the few cooking-utensils in place. While part of the company were doing this, one man had already gone to the field, and the sound of the mower, as it cut the fragrant grasses, came in a merry tune to their ears.