Last of the Great Scouts | Page 8

also with this
century. It became a beaten highway at the time of the Mormon exodus
from Nauvoo to their present place of abode. The trail crossed the
Missouri River at Leavenworth, and ran northerly to the Platte,
touching that stream at Fort Kearny. With a few variations it paralleled
the Platte to its junction with the Sweetwater, and left this river valley
to run through South Pass to big Sandy Creek, turning south to follow
this little stream. At Fort Bridger it turned westward again, passed Echo
Canon, and a few miles farther on ran into Salt Lake City. Over this
trail journeyed thousands of gold-hunters toward California, hopeful
and high-spirited on the westerly way, disappointed and depressed, the
large majority of them, on the back track. Freighting outfits, cattle
trains, emigrants--nearly all the western travel--followed this track
across the new land. A man named Rively, with the gift of grasping the
advantage of location, had obtained permission to establish a
trading-post on this trail three miles beyond the Missouri, and as
proximity to this depot of supplies was a manifest convenience, father's

selection of a claim only two miles distant was a wise one.
The Kansas-Nebraska Bill, which provided for the organizing of those
two territories and opened them for settlement, was passed in May.
1854. This bill directly opposed the Missouri Compromise, which
restricted slavery to all territory south of 36'0 30" north latitude. A
clause in the new bill provided that the settlers should decide for
themselves whether the new territories were to be free or slave states.
Already hundreds of settlers were camped upon the banks of the
Missouri, waiting the passage of the bill before entering and acquiring
possession of the land. Across the curtain of the night ran a broad
ribbon of dancing camp-fires, stretching for miles along the bank of the
river.
None too soon had father fixed upon his claim. The act allowing
settlers to enter was passed in less than a week afterward. Besides the
pioneers intending actual settlement, a great rush was made into the
territories by members of both political parties. These became the
gladiators, with Kansas the arena, for a bitter, bloody contest between
those desiring and those opposing the extension of slave territory.
Having already decided upon his location, father was among the first,
after the bill was passed, to file a claim and procure the necessary
papers, and shortly afterward he had a transient abiding-place prepared
for us. Whatever mother may have thought of the one-roomed cabin,
whose chinks let in the sun by day and the moon and stars by night, and
whose carpet was nature's greenest velvet, life in it was a perennial
picnic for the children. Meantime father was at work on our permanent
home, and before the summer fled we were domiciled in a large
double-log house--rough and primitive, but solid and comfort-breeding.
This same autumn held an episode so deeply graven in my memory that
time has not blurred a dine of it. Jane, our faithful maid of all work,
who went with us to our Western home, had little time to play the
governess. Household duties claimed her every waking hour, as mother
was delicate, and the family a large one; so Turk officiated as both
guardian and playmate of the children
One golden September day Eliza and I set out after wild flowers,
accompanied by Turk and mother's caution not to stray too far, as wild
beasts, 'twas said, lurked in the neighboring forest; but the prettiest
flowers were always just beyond, and we wandered afield until we

reached a fringe of timber half a mile from the house, where we tarried
under the trees. Meantime mother grew alarmed, and Will was
dispatched after the absent tots.
Turk, as we recalled, had sought to put a check upon our wanderings,
and when we entered the woods his restlessness increased. Suddenly he
began to paw up the carpet of dry leaves, and a few moments later the
shrill scream of a panther echoed through the forest aisles.
Eliza was barely six years old, and I was not yet four. We clung to each
other in voiceless terror. Then from afar came a familiar whistle--Will's
call to his dog. That heartened us, babes as we were, for was not our
brother our reliance in every emergency? Rescue was at hand; but Turk
continued tearing up the leaves, after signaling his master with a loud
bark. Then, pulling at our dresses, he indicated the refuge he had dug
for us. Here we lay down, and the dog covered us with the leaves,
dragging to the heap, as a further screen, a large dead branch. Then,
with the heart of a lion, he put himself on guard.
From our leafy covert we could see