The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1875-12-10
CHAPTER l.

upon rolling upland in the beautiful
valley of the Willamette, adjacent to g
running stream that came dashing
down with rippling music from the
gulch, mile distant, in whose wooded
depths the sparkling spring from which
it drew its substance hid itself serenely
away, alike from the glare of the sun
and the chiIIiest breath of the wind.
Hard by the wagon a pair of calves
were picketed, their mothers quietly
grazing within call, and three yokes Of
sturdy oxen, tired with the fatigues OF
the day, were lying near, chewing the
cud of evident satisfaction.
''You won't be gone very long, will
you, Mark ?"
"Guess not, Nancy. But you needn't
worry about me. Just see to it that
everything's snug about the tent and
wagon; for like as not there's storm a.
brewin'. My rheumatic twinges con-
sid'able. I'll be back afore long if Pm
lucky.n
So saying, the husband started for the
woods upon a sort of limping trot, fol-
lowed by faithful watchdog that had
accompanied them during all the weary
months of jOurneying toward the setting
sun.
The work about the camp was soon
finished, and then followed a season OF
dreary, anxious waiting.
''Mercy how the wind whistles down
the ca1on! fear that we are to have a
terrible night of it. Mark ought to
have been back an hour ago. Keep
still, children. You are better off in
bed. Night will soon be upon US. How
l sOiSh your father would comev
The speaker, Nancy Morrison, was a
faded woman of five and thirty, with a
babe in her arms, which she Rugged
tightly to her shivering form, as she
peered out into the gathering darkness,
looking in vain for her husbands re-
turn.
The family had travelled far with
their teams of oxen, and the rations of
salt meat and sea-biscuit, which had
constituted their almost entire bill of
fare for many weeks, had become ut
terly distasteful to the faded mother and
hungering babe; hence the determina-
tion of Mark Morrison to secure some
game, with which he knew the wooded
gulch to be well supplied.
1t had been with many misgivings
that Mr.. and Mrs. Morrison had de-
cided, months before, to leave their
comfortable, but narrow Indiana quar-
ters; and, bidding farewell to friends
and relatives, take up their weary line
of march across the, as yet, almost un-
tracked regions of the great so-called
American Desert, in search of un-
claimed acres for the use of their grow
ing family. Not that there were not
untitled lands in plenty adjacent to
their little Indiana home; but these
lands were in possession of men who
would neither sell nor use them; and
so, while they were given over to the
abode of sheep and swine, humanity
must needs sally forth into the untamed
wilderness and become companions OF
the panther and cOyote-more neigh
borly and accommodating than their
brother man. Health, too, was a
weighty consideration, for though Mark
Morrison was not man of feeble con-
stitution, he had all his life beer
troubled with periodical attacks of ague
with of late years tendency to rheuma.
tism, all of which he hoped to get rid o.
in the new country beyond the Rocky
Mountains, of which he had often re.
ceived tidings.
Mrs. Morrison had protested long
against the proposed removal, for she
shrank from the possible dangers O
desert and wilderness as only a woman
will as she feels the helplessness thai
accompanies her lot when little children
depend upon her for that protection
without which the race of men anC
women would soon be extinct. Yet, il
spite of her fears and protests, she al
last yielded reluctant consent to the
opportunities of her husband, as thous.
ands of women do every year, when in.
tuition teaches them better, lest theil
so-called Obstinacy may entail response.
biIity and possible blame upon them.
selves, in case their premonition:
shall prove unfounded.
And so, after many months of labori
Gus wandering, behold Mrs. Morrison
friendly reader, with her little oneI
gathered at her knee in the grea
wagon, a furiously threatening storm
wierd harbinger of night of bowling
blaekness, screeching through the
gulch, and wailing in fitful gusts around
her; wild animals and yet wilder saw.
ages In the nearby forest, and no habi.
tation of the white man within at Ieast
hundred miles of that heaven-favorec
spot where her husband had that day
decided to pitch his tent and become az
extensive free-holder.
The children of Mark and Nancy
Morrison numbered six, the two eldes
being girls, aged ten and twelve, oail
of twin boys aged eight. a toddlins
Prattler Of two, and the baby, of not ye