The Kendrick gazette. [volume] (Kendrick, Idaho) 1892-1968, 1905-08-04
THE SPIRIT Of THE TULE.

s THE SPIRIT OF The 1ULE. !
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80 NCLN ZENAS PARTRIDGE had
always declared that he wanted
" to be buried in the hills.
"Its no use talking" he would say.
between whiffs at his black pipe, this
here valleys doomed. You can't keep
cut them floods, though you 60 on and
spend your last cent a leveling. Shows
bound to pile up In them Sierra Ne
vada's every winter, ten or twelve feet
high, and it's got to come down. and
twill bring the slickens with It; then
where's your country?
II don't say twill be in my time,
but it's bound to come. Them noun
tain folks 10 a going to mine. and from
their side l don't blame 'em. It's
mighty hard to set down and starve
when there's q fortune most In your
dooryard already for the washing out.
"It's human nature. What's one
mans food is another mans plzen.'
And we're the lowest down. and the
under dog this time. They'll get out
the gold, no matter how you injunct;
and them there restraining dams they
make so much Of will be like sand
bar when the heavens are opened and
the floods come down.
when it's time for my burying I
want to be put up in the Buttes where
it's high. always liked to be among
the first when things we're going on,
and so do in the resurrection. Give
me a good chance up high and don't
solder me into one Of the tin-lined cof-
fms: let me get out quick no I can take
In the bigness Of the thing"
Now Uncle Zenas was dead and his
children, grandchildren, nephews and
nieces had come togethes for the last
duty Of laying his body in the high
place he coveted.
The chill fog Of early winter had set
tied down in the Californian valley,
and almost hid the spring wagon that
bore the coffin from the long file Of
buggies and rockaways that followed
slowly through the mud behind 1t.
After long, tiresome drive they be-
gan to wind up through the Buttes,
that strange elevation in the center Of
the valley, whose pink and gray shad-
owy outline Of the distance had
changed to reality of rugged sleeps
and stony declivities, with here and
there cosy homesteads nesting in
brown depressions, which would soon
turn into greenness.
They had to come near the stop
ping place on foot, the bearers carry
Ing the plain coffin, destitute of flow
ers, as had been the old mans wish.
i "They do for women and children"
he had said; "nowise for old folks.
Give me a sheaf of grain"
It was lying there now, tied with
deep purple ribbons, symbol Of the
fruits of a good mans life. The sun
came out and rested on the rounded
mound, and the mists rolled away into
white clouds. Uncle Zenas could rest
In peace; he would rise from the hill
tops.
"You can't think how I dread going
home across that tule, father" Mrs.
Briggs said to her husband, as they
journeyed toward home. II know it's
a sight nearer, but how can we tell
but the waters backing up and cutting
us off; we've had sight Of rain late
w."
Don't you worry. mother, it's all
right"
But 1 just believe the fogs going
to settle down again, 1t looks so misty
over there. 1t was right pretty Just as
we laid Uncle Zene in his grave. Ka.
tie, isn't that John Hanlon over there
look, on that curve, in his new bug
VT
u The girl gave a quick glance.
"Yes." she answered shortly. and
setting her lips tightly, turned her face
the other way.
The Briggs were crowded in theil
spring wagon. Katie. her mother, lit
tie Johnny and the baby had the bach
seat, while the father and two boyi
were on the front
Six months before Katie would
have been riding in the new buggy II
the rear, snugly covered with thu
. orange and black plush robe; for si1
, months ago Kate and John had beer
. loverA Now the girl turned her heat
, sway a. II the sight Of that big sf1
footer was hateful TO her.
She wondered why he hadnr
brought Mary Higgins, It was lone
some riding % far alonA Perhaps b,
wouldn't seeing II was Uncle Zene'l
funeral John always thought . -