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  HEART'S DESIRE

  CHAPTER I

  THE LAND OF HEART'S DESIRE

  _This being in Part the Story of Curly, the Can of Oysters, and theGirl from Kansas_

  "It looks a long ways acrost from here to the States," said Curly, aswe pulled up our horses at the top of the Capitan divide. We gazed outover a vast, rolling sea of red-brown earth which stretched far beyondand below the nearer foothills, black with their growth of stuntedpines. This was a favorite pausing place of all travellers between thecounty-seat and Heart's Desire; partly because it was a summit reachedonly after a long climb from either side of the divide; partly,perhaps, because it was a notable view-point in a land full of nobleviews. Again, it may have been a customary tarrying point because ofsome vague feeling shared by most travellers who crossed thistrail,--the same feeling which made Curly, hardened citizen as he wasof the land west of the Pecos, turn a speculative eye eastward acrossthe plains. We could not see even so far as the Pecos, though itseemed from our lofty situation that we looked quite to the ultimate,searching the utter ends of all the earth.

  "Yours is up that-a-way;" Curly pointed to the northeast. "Mine wasthat-a-way." He shifted his leg in the saddle as he turned to theright and swept a comprehensive hand toward the east, meaning perhapsTexas, perhaps a series of wild frontiers west of the Lone Star state.I noticed the nice distinction in Curly's tenses. He knew the man morerecently arrived west of the Pecos, possibly later to prove abackslider. As for himself, Curly knew that he would never return tohis wild East; yet it may have been that he had just a touch of thehome feeling which is so hard to lose, even in a homeless country, aman's country pure and simple, as was surely this which now stretchedwide about us. Somewhere off to the east, miles and miles beyond thered sea of sand and _grama_ grass, lay Home.

  "And yet," said Curly, taking up in speech my unspoken thought, "youcan't see even halfway to Vegas up there." No. It was a long twohundred miles to Las Vegas, long indeed in a freighting wagon, and longenough even in the saddle and upon as good a horse as each of us nowbestrode. I nodded. "And it's some more'n two whoops and a holler tomy ole place," said he. Curly remained indefinite; for, thoughpresently he hummed something about the sun and its brightness in hisold Kentucky home, he followed it soon thereafter with musical allusionto the Suwanee River. One might have guessed either Kentucky orGeorgia in regard to Curly, even had one not suspected Texas from thelook of his saddle cinches.

  It was the day before Christmas. Yet there was little winter in thissweet, thin air up on the Capitan divide. Off to the left the PatosMountains showed patches of snow, and the top of Carrizo was yetwhiter, and even a portion of the highest peak of the Capitans carrieda blanket of white; but all the lower levels were red-brown, calm,complete, unchanging, like the whole aspect of this far-away andfinished country, whereto had come, long ago, many Spaniards in searchof wealth and dreams; and more recently certain Anglo-Saxons, alsodreaming, who sought in a stolen hiatus of the continental conquestnothing of more value than a deep and sweet oblivion.

  It was a Christmas-tide different enough from that of the States towardwhich Curly pointed. We looked eastward, looked again, turned back forone last look before we tightened the cinches and started down thewinding trail which led through the foothills along the flank of thePatos Mountains, and so at last into the town of Heart's Desire.

  "Lord!" said Curly, reminiscently, and quite without connection withany thought which had been uttered. "Say, it was fine, wasn't it,Christmas? We allus had firecrackers then. And eat! Why, man!" Thisallusion to the firecrackers would have determined that Curly had comefrom the South, which alone has a midwinter Fourth of July, possiblybecause the populace is not content with only one annual smell ofgunpowder. "We had trees where I came from," said I. "And eat! Yes,man!"

  "Some different here now, ain't it?" said Curly, grinning; and Igrinned in reply with what fortitude I could muster. Down in Heart'sDesire there was a little, a very little cabin, with a bunk, a fewblankets, a small table, and a box nailed against the wall for acupboard. I knew what was in the box, and what was not in it, and I soadvised my friend as we slipped down off the bald summit of theCapitans and came into the shelter of the short, black pinons. Curlyrode on for a little while before he made answer.

  "Why," said he, at length, "ain't you heard? You're in with our rodeoon Christmas dinner. McKinney, and Tom Osby, and Dan Anderson, theother lawyer, and me,--we're going to have Christmas dinner atAndersen's 'dobe in town to-morrer. You're in. You mayn't like it.Don't you mind. The directions says to take it, and you take it. It'sgoin' to be one of the largest events ever knowed in this heresettlement. Of course, there's goin' to be some canned things, andsome sardines, and some everidge liquids. You guess what besides that."

  I told him I couldn't guess.

  "Shore you couldn't," said Curly, dangling his bridle from the littlefinger of his left hand as he searched in his pocket for a match. Hehad rolled a cigarette with one hand, and now he called it a_cigarrillo_. These facts alone would have convicted him of comingfrom somewhere near the Rio Grande.

  "Shore you couldn't," repeated Curly, after he had his bit of brownpaper going. "I reckon not in a hundred years. Champagne! Wholequart! Yes, sir. Cost eighteen dollars. Mac, he got it. BillyHudgens had just this one bottle in the shop, left over from the timethe surveyors come over here and we thought there was goin' to be arailroad, which there wasn't. But Lord! that ain't all. It ain't thebeginnin'. You guess again. No, I reckon you couldn't," said he,scornfully. "You couldn't in your whole life guess what next. We gota _cake_!"

  "Go on, Curly," said I, scoffingly; for I knew that the possibilitiesof Heart's Desire did not in the least include anything resemblingcake. Any of the boys could fry bacon or build a section of bread in aDutch oven--they had to know how to do that or starve. But as to cake,there was none could compass it. And I knew there was not a woman inall Heart's Desire.

  Curly enjoyed his advantage for a few moments as we wound on down thetrail among the pinons. "Heap o' things happened since you went downto tend co'te," said he. "You likely didn't hear of the new familymoved in last week. Come from Kansas."

  "Then there's a girl," said I; for I was far Westerner enough to knowthat all the girls ever seen west of the Pecos came from Kansas, thesame as all the baled hay and all the fresh butter. Potatoes came fromIowa; but butter, hay, and girls came from Kansas. I asked Curly ifthe head of the new family came from Leavenworth.

  "'Course he did," said Curly. "And I'll bet a steer he'll bepostmaster or somethin' in a few brief moments." This in reference toanother well-known fact in natural history as observed west of thePecos; for it was matter of common knowledge among all Western men thatthe town of Leavenworth furnished early office-holders for every newcommunity from the Missouri to the Pacific.

  Curly continued; "This feller'll do well here, I reckon, though justnow he's broke a-plenty. But what was he goin' to do? His teambreaks down and he can't get no further. Looks like he'd just have tostop and be postmaster or somethin' for us here for a while. Can't beJustice of the Peace; another Kansas man's got that. As to them twogirls--man! The camp's got on its best clothes right this instant,don't you neglect to think. Both good lookers. Youngest's a peach.I'm goin' to marry _her_." Curly turned aggressively in his saddleand looked me squarely in the eye, his hat pushed back from his tightlycurling red hair.

  "That's all right, Curly," said I, mildly. "You have my consent. Haveyou asked the girl about it yet?"

  "Ain't had time yet," said he. "But you watch me."

  "What's the name of the family?" I asked as we rode along together.

  "Blamed if I remember exactly," replied Curly, scratching his head,"but they're shore good folks. Old man's sort o' pious, I reckon.Anyhow, that's what Tom Osby says. He driv along from Hocradle canonwith 'em on the road from Vegas. Said the old man helt services everymornin' before breakfast. More services'n break
fast sometimes. Tom,he says old Whiskers--that's our next postmaster--he sings a-plenty,lifts up his voice exceeding. Say," said Curly, turning on me againfiercely, "that's one reason I'd marry the girl if for nothing else.It takes more'n a bass voice and a copy of the Holy Scriptures to makea Merry Christmas. Why, man, say, when I think of what a time we allare going to have,--you, and me, and Mac, and Tom Osby, and DanAnderson, with all them things of our'n, and all these here things onthe side--champagne and all that,--it looks like this world ain't runon the square, don't it?"

  I assured Curly that this had long been one of my own conclusions.Assuredly I had not the bad manners to thank him for his invitation tojoin him in this banquet at Heart's Desire, knowing as I did Curly'sacquaintance with the fact that young attorneys had not alwaysabundance during their first year in a quasi-mining camp that wastwo-thirds cow town; such being among the possibilities of that land.I returned to the cake.

  "Where'd we git it?" said Curly. "Why, where'd you s'pose we got it?Do you think Dan Anderson has took to pastry along with the statootsmade and pervided? As for Dan, he ain't been here so very long, buthe's come to stay. We're goin' to send him to Congress if we ever gettime to organize our town, or find out what county we're in. How'd ourDelergate look spreadin' jelly cake? Nope, he didn't make it. Anddoes it look any like Mac has studied bakery doin's out on theCarrizoso ranch? You know Tom Osby couldn't. As for me, if hard luckhas ever driv me to cookin' in the past, I ain't referrin' to it now.I'm a straight-up cow puncher and nothin' else. That cake? Why, itcome from the Kansas outfit.

  "Don't know which one of 'em done it, but it's a honey," he went on."Say, she's a foot high, with white stuff a inch high all over. She'ssoft around the aidge some, for I stuck my finger intoe it just alittle. We just got it recent and we're night-herdin' it where it'scool. Cost a even ten dollars. The old lady said she'd make the priceall right, but Mac and me, we sort of sized up things and allowed we'ddrop about a ten in their recep_ti_cle when we come to pay for thatcake. This family, you see, moved intoe the cabin Hank Fogarty and JimBond left when they went away,--it's right acrost the 'royo from DanAnderson's office, where we're goin' to eat to-morrer.

  "Now, how that woman could make a cake like this here in one of themnarrer, upside-down Mexican ovens--no stove at all--no nothing--say,that's some like adoptin' yourself to circumstances, ain't it? Why,man, I'd marry intoe that fam'ly if I didn't do nothing else long as Ilived. They ain't no Mexican money wrong side of the river. Nocounterfeit there regardin' a happy home--cuttin' out the bass voiceand givin' 'em a leetle better line of grass and water, eh? Well, Ireckon not. Watch me fly _to_ it."

  The idiom of Curly's speech was at times a trifle obscure to theuneducated ear. I gathered that he believed these newcomers to be ofproper social rank, and that he was also of the opinion that a certainmending in their material matters might add to the happiness of thefamily.

  "But say," he began again shortly, "I ain't told you half about ourdinner."

  "That is to say--" said I.

  "We're goin' to have oysters!" he replied.

  "Oh, Curly!" objected I, petulantly, "what's the use lying? I'llagree that you may perhaps marry the girl--I don't care anything aboutthat. But as to oysters, you know there never was an oyster in Heart'sDesire, and never will be, world without end."

  "Huh!" said Curly. "Huh!" And presently, "Is that _so_?"

  "You know it's so," said I.

  "Is that so?" reiterated he once more. "Nice way to act, ain't it,when you're ast out to dinner in the best society of the place? Tell afeller he's shy on facts, when all he's handin' out is just the plain,unfreckled truth, for onct at least. We got oysters, four cans of 'em,and done had 'em for a month. They're up there." He jerked a thumbtoward the top of old Carrizo Mountain. I looked at the snow, and ina flash comprehended. There, indeed, was cold storage, the only coldstorage possible in Heart's Desire!

  "Tom Osby brought 'em down from Vegas the last time he come down," saidCurly. "They're there, sir, four cans of 'em. You know where theCarrizo spring is? Well, there's a snowbank in that canon, about twohundred yards off to the left of the spring. The oysters is in there.Keep? They got to keep!

  "Them's the only oysters ever was knowed between the Pecos and the RioGrande," he continued pridefully. "Now I want to ask you, friend, ifthis ain't just a leetle the dashed blamedest, hottest Christmas dinnerever was pulled off?"

  "Curly," said I, "you are a continuous surprise to me."

  "The trouble with you is," said Curly, lighting another cigarette, "youlook the wrong way from the top of the divide. Never mind about homeand mother. Them is States institooshuns. The only feller any goodhere is the feller that comes to stay, and likes it. You like it?"

  "Yes, Curly," I replied seriously, "I do like it, and I'm going to stayif I can."

  "Well, you be mighty blamed careful if that's the way you feel aboutit," said Curly. "I got my own eye on that girl from Kansas, and Iserve notice right here. No use for you or Mac or any of you to bea-tryin' to cut out any stock for me. I seen it first."

  We dropped down and ever down as we rode on along the winding mountaintrail. The dark sides of the Patos Mountains edged around to the backof us, and the scarred flanks of big Carrizo came farther and fartherforward along our left cheeks as we rode on. Then the trail made asharp bend to the left, zigzagged a bit to get through a series ofbroken ravines, and at last topped the low false divide which rose atthe upper end of the valley of Heart's Desire.

  It was a spot lovely, lovable. Nothing in all the West is more fit tolinger in a man's memory than the imperious sun rising above the valleyof Heart's Desire; nothing unless it were the royal purple of thesunset, trailed like a robe across the shoulders of the grave unsmilinghills, which guarded it round about. In Heart's Desire it was so calm,so complete, so past and beyond all fret and worry and caring. Perhapsthe man who named it did so in grim jest, as was the manner of theearly bitter ones who swept across the Western lands. Perhaps again henamed it at sunset, and did so reverently. God knows he named it right.

  There was no rush nor hurry, no bickering nor envying, no crowding northieving there. Heart's Desire! It was well named, indeed; fitcapital for the malcontents who sought oblivion, dreaming, long as theymight, that Life can be left aside when one grows weary of it;dreaming--ah! deep, foolish, golden dream--that somewhere there is onearth an Eden with no Eve and without a flaming sword!

  The town all lay along one deliberate, crooked street, because the_arroyo_ along which it straggled was crooked. Its buildings weremostly of adobe, with earthen roofs, so low that when one saw arainstorm coming in the rainy season (when it rained invariably once aday), he went forth with a shovel and shingled his roof anew, standingon the ground as he did so. There were a few cabins built of logs, butvery few. Only one or two stores had the high board front common inWestern villages. Lumber was very scarce and carpenters still scarcer.How the family from Kansas had happened to drift into Heart'sDesire--how a man of McKinney's intelligence had come to settlethere--how Dan Anderson, a very good lawyer, happened to have tarriedthere--how indeed any of us happened to be there, are questions whichmay best be solved by those who have studied the West-bound, thedream-bound, the malcontents. At any rate, here we were, and it wasChristmas-time. The very next morning would be that of Christmas Day.