Big Jack Small [pp. 446-463]

BIG _7ACK SMALL.
can but respect the opinions of a man
who respectfully states them. And I
shall only pray to God to give you a
clearer light."
"That's all right, Parson! An' now,
as I've got your oatmeal cake baked an'
everything done up brown, what do yer
say ef we roll out the blankets, go to
sleep, an' forgit it all till mornin'?"
"I shall be pleased to retire at any
time."
"Well, hit's a fine night," said Jack,
proceeding to untie the roll of his bedding, "an' we needn't go under the wagons, but jest spread down in the evenest
places we kin find."
The Reverend Mr. Sighal made his
first bed in the wilderness, and, as the
mountain phrase goes, "crawled in."
"Parson," said Mr. Small, as he sat
in his bed straightening the blankets
about his feet, "got plenty blankets?-I
kin spare ye a pair."
"Plenty, thank you."
"Good-night, Parson."
"Good-night, and God bless you, Mr.
Small."
The bright moon and stars moved on
in their long-appointed courses through
the wide and cloudless sky, the sagebrush of the valley stretched far away,
the mountain rose ragged to the serrated
summit, the cattle browsed along the
slope, the shadows of the great wagons
fell square and dark upon the dry desert
earth, and nature's old, old silence closed down upon the wilderness.
In the morning, Mr. Sighal awakened
early, after a sweet and refreshing sleep,
his lungs and whole inner man toned up
with the dry, dewless, fresh air, to find
Mr. Small far forward in the preparation
of breakfast.
"Good-mornin', Parson! Didn't any body disturb yer last night, walkin' on
the up-stairs floor, did thar?"
"Good morning, Mr. Small! No;
I've had a fine sleep"-drawing on his
wearing apparel.
"When ye sleep out nights yere, whar
thar's never no dew fallin', hit's better'n
any ho-tel."
"Yes, sir; the air is very refreshing and invigorating," said Mr. Sighal,
stamping his. feet into his boots, and
shaking the creases out of his pantaloons.
"Thar's soap an' a sort o' towel on
the wheel-hub, an' ye kin take'em an'
go right over thar to them willer-bushes an' hey a wash, an' then hash'll be
ready."
While Mr. Sighal and Mr. Small were
taking breakfast after the customary petition for grace, the first gold rim of the
sun, with the distant trees painted in its
halo, rose into view on the top of the
far-off eastern mountains, and Gov Nye,
with his red blanket about his shoulders,
came softly across the nearer hills, the
scattered cattle moving zigzag through
the sage-brush in front of him.
"Now, Parson," said Mr. Small, when
they had finished breakfast, "we'll roll
up, tie up, an' h'ist up our beddin'; then
hitch up the bulls while Gov eats his
grub, an' roll out."
While Mr. Small, taking each heavy
yoke in its turn upon his shoulder and
holding one bow in his right hand, walked up to each off-side ox successively,
dropped the end of the yoke gently upon his neck, slipped the bow upward and
secured it to its place with the key, then
removing the other bow, rested that end
of the yoke upon the ground, led the
nigh-side ox to his place with the bow,
and thus arranged each twain in their
proper yoke, Mr. Sighal, with outspread
arms and extended hands, rendered ami able assistance in keeping the herd to gether.
"Done eatin', Gov?" said Mr. Small,
when he had stationed his horned troop
in marching order.
"Yash. Heap eat um all up."
"All right," approved Mr. Small, tum bling the cooking utensils into the box
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