Every day little Mrs. Culberson worked with all her might; and in order that the children should not get lonely or afraid in the wilderness, she tried to keep them busy. First she set them hauling wood from the cedars near by; Pa had made a door for the cabin from the wagon box, but they could load the wood and poles on the running gear of their wagon. They could manage the donkeys easily, and they soon gathered a huge woodpile. Then the children dug a cellar in the side of the hill. Henry Clay and Lizzie Isabel, who were the oldest, did the digging. Jennie Lou and Jessie May helped by carrying out the dirt as fast as it was loosened. Mrs. Culberson and five-year-old baby C’listie did the encouraging. Each was proud of sharing in the work.
A few days after the cellar was finished, the children went on an exploring expedition to discover whether they had any neighbors. The first rancher they found laughed when he saw the eager, freckled children on their little donkeys. He was harvesting his vegetables, and he offered them all a chance to work for him. After that, the children and their mother were busy for almost a month, picking up potatoes and helping store winter vegetables for the ranchers who lived up and down the valley. In that way they had stocked their own cellar, and had become the proud owners of a few bags of grain, which they put by for their faithful donkeys.
As Mrs. Culberson stood in the door that winter morning, looking out over the snow-covered country, she was mentally giving thanks that she and the children had a warm cabin to shelter them. On a tall, dead pine she saw a great eagle sitting in the sun. A coyote dug a rabbit out of the snow, and trotted away with it. Far below on the creek, she could see the smoke curling upward from her nearest neighbor’s chimney.
“Poor old soul!” she said to herself. “There all alone while her grandson, Charley, is away herding sheep. It must be plumb bad to have only one child, and to be a widow, and old, too. Here it is just two days before Christmas. I believe I’ll go down and bring her up here for a spell.”
Her care-seamed face was thoughtful. “It’s more’n three months since Pa left, and not a word from him. I do hope he hasn’t—”
But she was too loyal to put what she feared into words, even to herself. Closing the door, she put the breakfast of salt fish and potatoes on the table.
“Ma, can’t we have a little tiny piece of bacon for breakfast?” asked Jennie Lou.
“It’s very near Christmas,” said Jessie May.
“I just hate suckers!” said Lizzie Isabel.
“Now you young uns eat what is put before you, and don’t be so choicey,” said Mrs. Culberson. “I declare, I’ll have to boil you up some sage tea to make your fish and potatoes taste good to you again. Then after we’re through, I have a big secret to tell you.”