The Luck of Roaring Camp | Page 6

would get
through with it;" even that the child would survive; side bets as to the
sex and complexion of the coming stranger. In the midst of an excited

discussion an exclamation came from those nearest the door, and the
camp stopped to listen. Above the swaying and moaning of the pines,
the swift rush of the river, and the crackling of the fire rose a sharp,
querulous cry,--a cry unlike anything heard before in the camp. The
pines stopped moaning, the river ceased to rush, and the fire to crackle.
It seemed as if Nature had stopped to listen too.
The camp rose to its feet as one man! It was proposed to explode a
barrel of gunpowder; but in consideration of the situation of the mother,
better counsels prevailed, and only a few revolvers were discharged; for
whether owing to the rude surgery of the camp, or some other reason,
Cherokee Sal was sinking fast. Within an hour she had climbed, as it
were, that rugged road that led to the stars, and so passed out of
Roaring Camp, its sin and shame, forever. I do not think that the
announcement disturbed them much, except in speculation as to the
fate of the child. "Can he live now?" was asked of Stumpy. The answer
was doubtful. The only other being of Cherokee Sal's sex and maternal
condition in the settlement was an ass. There was some conjecture as to
fitness, but the experiment was tried. It was less problematical than the
ancient treatment of Romulus and Remus, and apparently as successful.
When these details were completed, which exhausted another hour, the
door was opened, and the anxious crowd of men, who had already
formed themselves into a queue, entered in single file. Beside the low
bunk or shelf, on which the figure of the mother was starkly outlined
below the blankets, stood a pine table. On this a candle-box was placed,
and within it, swathed in staring red flannel, lay the last arrival at
Roaring Camp. Beside the candle-box was placed a hat. Its use was
soon indicated. "Gentlemen," said Stumpy, with a singular mixture of
authority and ex officio complacency,--"gentlemen will please pass in at
the front door, round the table, and out at the back door. Them as
wishes to contribute anything toward the orphan will find a hat handy."
The first man entered with his hat on; he uncovered, however, as he
looked about him, and so unconsciously set an example to the next. In
such communities good and bad actions are catching. As the procession
filed in comments were audible,--criticisms addressed perhaps rather to
Stumpy in the character of showman: "Is that him?" "Mighty small

specimen;" "Hasn't more'n got the color;" "Ain't bigger nor a
derringer." The contributions were as characteristic: A silver tobacco
box; a doubloon; a navy revolver, silver mounted; a gold specimen; a
very beautifully embroidered lady's handkerchief (from Oakhurst the
gambler); a diamond breastpin; a diamond ring (suggested by the pin,
with the remark from the giver that he "saw that pin and went two
diamonds better"); a slung-shot; a Bible (contributor not detected); a
golden spur; a silver teaspoon (the initials, I regret to say, were not the
giver's); a pair of surgeon's shears; a lancet; a Bank of England note for
L5; and about $200 in loose gold and silver coin. During these
proceedings Stumpy maintained a silence as impassive as the dead on
his left, a gravity as inscrutable as that of the newly born on his right.
Only one incident occurred to break the monotony of the curious
procession. As Kentuck bent over the candle- box half curiously, the
child turned, and, in a spasm of pain, caught at his groping finger, and
held it fast for a moment. Kentuck looked foolish and embarrassed.
Something like a blush tried to assert itself in his weather-beaten cheek.
"The d--d little cuss!" he said, as he extricated his finger, with perhaps
more tenderness and care than he might have been deemed capable of
showing. He held that finger a little apart from its fellows as he went
out, and examined it curiously. The examination provoked the same
original remark in regard to the child. In fact, he seemed to enjoy
repeating it. "He rastled with my finger," he remarked to Tipton,
holding up the member, "the d--d little cuss!"
It was four o'clock before the camp sought repose. A light burnt in the
cabin where the watchers sat, for Stumpy did not go to bed that night.
Nor did Kentuck. He drank quite freely, and related with great gusto his
experience, invariably ending with his characteristic condemnation of
the newcomer. It seemed to relieve him of any unjust implication of
sentiment, and Kentuck had the weaknesses of the nobler sex.