Field and Forest; Or, The Fortunes of a Farmer

by Oliver Optic

was then sung. Many of the soldiers joined, and I was almost carried away by the strange effect, at once so melodious and so inspiring. The words of the hymn had a peculiar fitness, for the occasion, after we had been spared from the vengeance of the savages. Mr. Gracewood read each verse before it was sung, so as to recall the words to the audience. After the singing, he read a sermon appropriate to the circumstances of the family. At the end of it he spoke of Matt Rockwood, and paid a very pleasant tribute to his memory.

In the afternoon we attended another service. That Sunday was a holy day to me, and the singing had opened a new avenue of inspiration to me. In the evening Ella told me about her Sunday school in St. Louis, and I listened to her description with intense interest. I wished that I could attend one, hear the children sing, and receive the instructions of kind teachers. I was astonished when she told me that many young people did not go to the Sunday school, though all were invited to do so. I could not understand how any were willing to forego such a blessed privilege.

Early on Monday morning the troops marched for the Indian country at the north of us. I loaned them the wagon and horses to convey their baggage, and Kit Cruncher went as guide. I saw the column disappear in the forest. By this time Ella was able to walk about on the farm, and I derived great pleasure from the excursions I made with her about the clearing. I pulled up Little Fish River with her in the barge, and showed her where the battle with the Indians had occurred. We landed, examined the breastwork, and visited the mound which marked the burial-place of the savages who had fallen in the affray.

Later in the week I rowed up to Fish Rapids, and showed her how to catch a trout. She tried her hand, and soon hooked a two-pounder, which would have realized my dream about her, if I had not taken the line in my own hands. We caught half a dozen, and returned to the clearing. This kind of life was delightful to my fair young companion, and, with her, it was equally so to me. She seemed to have inherited something of her father's fondness for the sports of the wilderness and the prairie.

The grateful Indian.
Page 273.

On Saturday the troops arrived from their march to the Indian region. Lieutenant Pope had met some of the principal chiefs, had listened to their grievances,—for they always have some,—and had promised to redress them. They had smoked the pipe of peace together, and the "big Indians" had assured him that they would keep their word. After the severe lesson which had been administered, they were, doubtless, glad enough to make peace on these easy terms. During the rest of my stay at the Castle, they gave us no trouble. Though they came down occasionally to the landing, they were always peaceable and friendly. We took care of the wounded Indian at the shanty till he was able to return to his people, and he left us filled with gratitude. Three months after, he brought us in his canoe, down Crooked River, three antelopes, which he had shot in the region above us, for much of the best game had abandoned the vicinity of our settlement.

The soldiers remained a week at the landing, waiting for a steamer to convey them up to the fort. At the end of that time they departed. I had several long talks with Lieutenant Jackson, who gave me much good advice in regard to the future course he thought I ought to pursue; and when he left I felt that I had parted with a true friend. To the steamer which conveyed the soldiers up the river, I sold twenty cords of wood, and added eighty dollars to the gold in the chest.

Mrs. Gracewood insisted that Kit and myself should take our meals at the house, instead of keeping up a separate mess. Her husband had purchased a supply of table ware of the steamer which had just left, and we found ourselves quite civilized. The old hunter was rather embarrassed and awkward, for he had always been in the habit of eating his bacon out of the pan in which it had been cooked; but he soon accustomed himself to the new order of things, though it was impossible for him to be very graceful at the table, or anywhere else.

As the season advanced we ploughed and planted the field. With Mr. Gracewood, who insisted upon doing his full share of the labor, and Kit to help me, the task was not so hard as it had been. We planted a large piece of ground with corn, potatoes, and vegetables, and by the middle of June, everything was up, and looked finely. The rich soil and the southern slope were favorable to our crops, and we had abundant promises of a rich harvest.