The Great Small Cat, and Others: Seven Tales

by May E. Southworth

THE CAT
The Kitten Had Grown Into the
Most Splendid Bigness of His Race,
Handsome, Shining and Saucy,
All Muscle and Nerve, Unusually Broad
of Chest and Looking as if Bred to
the Mountain Fastness and
Able to Endure
all Sorts of Pioneer Hardships

It was in the evening, when pick and shovel were standing sentinel in the corner and the chimney sending its curly blue beacons of comfort toward the sky, that this wonderful "pardner" of the miner shone in all the glory of his domestic virtues, giving the rough cabin the grace and semblance of home. This evening hour bestowed happiness on both the man and the cat, and marked the very height of their goodfellowship. The man, his day's work over, steeped in the tang of the pine logs roaring in the huge fireplace, was at rest and at peace with all the world, puffing voluminous clouds from his pipe. His drowsy friend, too, was filled to the heart with the warmth from the ruddy logs and, in blinking satisfaction, would occasionally relieve his overflowing gratitude by low throaty murmurs of blissful content. These tranquil hours by the fire certainly atoned for many hardships, and feeling such a glow of nameless satisfaction in the snug, solitary enjoyment of them, the thankful man was more than compensated for all the sacrifices he had made. Being a willing, self-imposed exile, he felt that his blessings were more than he really deserved.

In the narrow canon at the base of these mountains, closing it in on both sides, was where the miner was following the old lead in which he had so much faith. In the rocky bottom grew scraggy fir and pine trees and in the crevice at the very bottom, a little stream hurried along, a trifling affair at this time of the year, but in the winter assuming the proportions of a raging torrent, as it was fed from the great volume of water that fell from the heights above. Here the miner washed his "pay dirt" at the "clean up," and it was also the cat's happy hunting ground, for it was the home of the wood mice, chipmunks, squirrels and other "small deer" nutting among the pines and going their ways boldly and busily, thoroughly intent on the business of living and making a living.

The cat roamed these wilds freely, foraging unchallenged, exploring with eyes and nose every tree, hollow and boulder, for he, too, was a practical, busy cat, making a living, as he had to work out his own salvation in this respect. He certainly had the right of way in this world of forage, and the thrifty little bodies that in the days of abundance would prepare for a day of need, had to be very wily as to where they laid their stores, for the cat would nose and ferret out their most secret hiding places.

One morning the miner, taking his dirt to the ravine, found the cat vigorously digging in the loose earth at the opening of a gigantic fissure in the rocky peaks, a fissure that led in gradual ascent, its sides sheer and steep, to the peaks above. So intent was the cat on his quarry that he did not notice his master's greeting, but kept the dry earth briskly flying to the right and left. The man supposed, as a matter of course, that he was on a scent and had cornered some game in its den, and in careless sympathy thought to help him out and struck his shovel deep into the loose earth. As he turned the heavy load he gasped, for he found it freighted with sparkling metal. He rubbed his eyes in wonder, dazed with astonishment, looking first at the cat now sitting demurely by with a satisfied air, as if he had done his part and then at the twinkling scales of gold blinking up at him as he shifted it through his shaking fingers. This sudden realization of the hopes of all the long hard years and the past months of active search, staggered his faculties. In a bewildered way he fingered the gravel in his hand, and wondered if it could be that he had "struck it rich" this time; if so, it was surely this prince of cats, either by chance or luck, that had proven the cleverer prospector of the two.

He followed the deep narrow gulch on and on, up and up, not for an instant suspecting the marvelous wealth it would reveal. He was lured on by frequently finding deep and rich pockets of yellow ore, mixed with water-worn loose rocks and dirt, which evidently had been collecting in this rough trough for a million years, washed down from the steep sides and many peaks above and around.

When night came down, shutting the cañon in absolute darkness, it roused the man from his golden dream with a start, and he straightened his bent, aching body and mopped his hot forehead. His first thought was for the cat, totally forgotten through all these absorbing hours, and an instant of self-reproach for fear he had not followed, but had gone back to the cabin at the usual time. At his startled call the neglected cat came rubbing his comforting presence about his feet, showing that he had been faithful all through the long day in which he had not been noticed. This God-sent lucky chum, that had brought him the great good fortune, had unmistakably an air of triumph gleaming from the depths of his great black pupils, and his beautiful sleek body assumed an attitude scandalously near a swagger, as if waiting for this opportunity to presume on his partnership in this affair, to advise his master that they had better be getting home. The miner instantly recognized the justice of his impertinence and caught him up in his arms, and they camped right there where they were through the short, starry night, hugged close.

At the first faint glimmering of day, the miner and the cat found their way back to the cabin. The man had pulled himself together by this time and had his nerve steadied back into its wonted control and his brain normal, in good working order. After his night's rest, in which the calm had returned to his overwrought imagination, he was able to meditate reasonably on the good fortune which began now to assume definite shape. To convince himself past all doubting, he drew from his pockets the yellow proof. There was no doubt about its being the real thing and he lifted his hat in gratitude to the cat, for this little prospector had certainly opened up for him the best lead in the whole country. The magnitude of what this developed was more than he ever dreamed could be. It seemed to him that all the gold that God ever gave to the world was in that one gulch, and there it lay unappropriated from end to end. It was like an Aladdin's fairy lamp, a gift of the gods. Millions were there and all there was to do was to pick up the yellow lumps. How this golden placer could have lain there, hidden in the sand and gravel of this fissure so long undiscovered, was a mystery that baffled even the miner's most profound attempts to conjecture. He had simply to accept his good fortune with a glad heart, as one of the favored caresses of the Enchantress of the Hills. His luck in being the "hundredth man" was, he claimed, all owing to his wonderful mascot, that in a time of desperation he had just gone out and annexed. His mate shared sympathetically in the sense of well-being in these great days of success, and must have realized, from the almost reverent homage that was accorded him, that he had played some very important part in winning the game.

And the partners linger and linger, rejoicing in the big loneliness of this little paradise all their own, ever happy and without a care, their cheery hearts growing bigger and bigger in unbroken friendship. The miner knows that just "over yonder," beyond the purple twilight, is the busy world and that he can "clean up" and go back to things and the life of people of affairs at any moment. Yet he stays on, loving this life under the sky, of joy and independence, hardship and adventure, with its splendid achievement, too much to make any change in the happy order of things.