THE TORCH OF REASON, SILVERTON, OREGON, THURSDAY, MAY 6, 1897
GOLDEN THRONE
[ a ROMANCE BY SAMUEL P. PUTNAM.]
“You must only drop oil' with
old age. Ami Independent, well, I
don’t exactly know what that does
mean. It means anything and
everything, just what folks want
you to he. It’s a nice word that
can cover a multitude of things.
Call yourself independent, and
people will think you have every
virtue. It’s a very accommodating
word. You can stand on any plat­
form and make all sorts of prom­
ises; ami, if you don’t fulfil them,
whv, it’s because you are independ­
ent. You see I have a broad plat­
form to run on; and there are lots
of discontented folks ready to take
tip with anything, and that makes
a chance for me. I’ve a railroad
pass, and I shall run down and fix
t hings.”
“A railroad pass, and you are
Independent? I don’t understand
that,”
“That’s the idea: 1 am anti-
monopoly, and I shall pledge my­
self to resist the inroads of these
grasping corporations. Rut, when
it comes to riding and voting,
why, that’s a different thing. I
don’t want to walk, and I can’t
pay my fare. And then, you
know, what’s a vote? 1 can offset
it any time by a speech. There’s
nothing like dividing yourself
up and going all around and
belonging to every side of a
question. That’s statesmanship,
and I’m going in on it.”
“Well, go it. Some people are
fools, and I guess you might as w’ell
shear ’em as anybody. For me,
I’d rather dig for a bare pittance
than succeed through the whims
and caprices of the ignorant multi­
tude.”
“I wish I could dig,” said Sol,
“but I can’t, and I’m ashamed to
beg; and so, like the unjust steward,
I must make friends of the mam­
mon of unrighteousness, and go in
on my cheek. I w’as born to it
and bred to it, and I must make
the best of it.”
“We are on a whirligig of life,”
said Paddie, “ami we must whirl.”
“ We’ll whirl off to the mountains
tomorrow, said Charlie. “.Jumble
as we may, I believe in the survival
of the fittest.”
The next morning, they started
on their homeward journey, Charlie
and Will and Tim and Jennie and
Moccasin Rill. Charlie was not
feeling in the best of spirits. He
left his heart behind him, and so
he dragged a lengthening chain.
However, his strong will bore him
along. He was not foolish enough
to let his passion predominate over
his reason.
“ Let me get to work, and I shall
be all right,” said he to Will. I
do not forget Madeline, yet other
loves will boom and blossom in
the heart.”
“They should,” said Will. “The
dead reign in memory, while w’e duced me to myself; and I under­ American. He had been all over
must mingle with the living and stand Moccasin Rill better than I the country. He would leave his
feed our hearts from new fountains. ever did, and he me. I know you wife sometimes for months, and no­
We do not forget the old when we better, too, arid all the race of men. body would know where he was.
I can’t be civilized. I hate to be. He had lived among the Indians,
press forward to the new.”
“I do not know as I can love I like these wild woods. They are and, in fact, had been adopted by
again,” said Charlie. “ Love is my home. Here will I live, and one of the tribes. He had met
such a deep and terrible thing that here will I die, free to my last with all sorts of adventures, and
1 almost dread it; for it takes hold breath as the winds of heaven. I could tell of many hair-breadth
of every fibre of the being, and its am afraid of nothing—of beasts or escapes. He was a right good
joy is constantly trembling on the Indians or storm or lightning. I story-teller, and around many a
verge of pain. I connot forget this have all I want. This is my palace, camp-fire had exploited the thrill­
woman’s face; and it does seem, at in the bosom of earth. I have no ing romance of his life. When on
times, as if 1 must give up every pains or aches. I have never in­ the borders of civiilization, he kept
other plan in life, and go ami seek jured a mortal man. I have done a saloon that was his only way of
her, though I never find her. Isn’t what I could to help them; and making a living. He was a keen
it strange that one glance can so now I have heard Ingersoll, and judge of liquor of all sorts. He
affect a man? Why is it that some his thoughts are with me, compan­ could tell the flavor to a nicety.
faces do so enchant and haunt us? ’ ions of the mountains and the He believed in the genuine stuff,
and would have no adulterations.
“ 1 suppose we can never explain trees and the rivers. Good-by.”
Charlie and Will never forgot the So he always kept the most popular
the rose on a woman’s cheek or the
flash of her dark eye. Rut the picture of the noble hermit as he saloon, and made money which he
comfort of it is, out of sight, out of stood leaning on his long rifle, so spent like water. He loved his
mind; and we soon forget these fan­ ' sturdy in his independence, so in­ wife and feared her, and always
cies, or, if we do not, it is because domitable in his unique personality, obeyed her.
a living expression of the wildness
we are doomed to meet again.’’
Tim whiled away the evening
and
grandeur
of
the
mountains.
“That’s romantic, and very good,
I with some stories,
.
’ and then fell
That evening, the company, asleep. Jennie was still wakeful,
as sentiment; but how far will it
go for a fact? I don’t forget some dwindled to four, arrived at Pil­ and kept the fire blazing. Char­
nice apples that I saw yesterdy; grim’s Rest.
lie watched her in a half dreamy
Jennie
was
quite
a
study
to
but I don’t expect to eat them.’’
sort of way, as the flames danced
“Folks are different from apples,” Charlie, and he watched her as she upon her massive and weather­
said Well. “ I know I’m romantic, deftly built the fire and prepared beaten features. Will tumbled into
but not enough to hurt. I trust the meal. She was indeed a won­ his blanket by the side of Tim.
only in what I see, when it comes derful woman, a born Stoic; and
“I ’d like to swap with you, Jen­
to the real tussle. For all that, we all the ills of life did not seem to nie,” said Charlie. “I never saw
can roam in fairy-land, when disturb her equanimity. Whatever anybody that enjoyed life, under
there’s nothing else to do. We are happen« d, she was ready for it— all circumstances, so well as you.
all contraditions, and that is what the measles, smallpox, the storm, I think you must have a lien upon
gives zeal to life. 1 wonder at my­ the ff«»od, the “ Injun,” or the devil fate.”
self sometimes. If I did not, what himself. Her experience was va­ “ I don’t understand that.” said
ried. From girlhood she had lived
a dunce I should be!”
Jennie. “I don’t kuow about fate.
Moccasin Rill gave them a hearty on the plains or among the mines. That’s beyond me. I know that I
good-by, as, in the bright, early She had “teamed it,’’ and “tramped live, and don’t see the use of know­
dawn, they prepared to leave his it,” rode wild horses and shot buf­ ing any more.”
hospitable dug-out where they had faloes, and even scalped an Indian.
“You don’t care, then, to know
No man had endured more than
spent the previous night.
“I ’ve had a good tramp,’ said he, she, or could boast of greater where you came from?”
“No. It wouldn’t make me any
“and I’m full. I know myself now’, prowess. She had borne several
because I’ve heard another man children, and had been stripped of happier or any wiser for w’hat I’ve
tell me what I knew already, but them all; but I doubt if she ever gut to do to-day.”
didn’t know’ that I knew’ it'as I do wept. She was a mother to every­ “And you don’t care whither
now. It is the best of truth to have body. No one could ask her for you go?”
“No. The present is all I can
one speak your innermost thought. help in vain. Yet she was not
Semehow, it becomes more real then. demonstrative. She was a woman handle. Every moment keeps me
I’ve always been kind of solitary of few’ words. She tended the sick busy. I haven’t time to trouble
among these hills. They have been with grave quiet, stood by them to myself about eternity, as the
my best companions. I ’ve got the death, if need be, no matter ministers call it. I don’t know
suited to them and they to me. how malignant the disease. She what it is, and I guess they don’t.”
We’ve never had any trouble. Men had stood by the bedside of hun­ “You’ve suffered a good deal?”
more or less bother, at least they dreds of suffering miners and team­ “Yes, I have.”
“And you have seen a good deal
do me; and I keep them a little off. sters, and many of them had she
That’s my way. I like it better, pulled through an almost hopeless of suffering?”
“Yes.”
and it’s liberty. If I mingle with case. Yet she had no religion. She
“ Well, w’hat do you think of it?”
men, I have to give up too much. never prayed or sang. The only
“ I don’t think anything about it.
Yet, through Ingersoll, I feel that men that she really hated were the
man is more than anything; for lie ministers; but she always fed them When it’s over with, I forget it.”
has given me a feeling and a joy well and gave them her best whis­ “Have you forgotten your child­
that I never had before, more re­ key, and they always drank it “for ren ?”
“ No; but I have forgotten that
spect for myself and for everybody. their stomach’s sake.” She didn’t
He has touched mv solitude with have any Rible or any cross. She they are dead.”
“Do you wish they were alive?”
what you call genius, or inspira­ w’ould swear like a trooper some­
“ I wish nothing. What’s the
tion. He has spoken to me with times, and cuff’ the ears of the
the voice of the monntain and the recalcitrant. She wouldn’t stand use?”
thunder of the cataract. He has any nonsense. She was a sublime • “Then, * * you believe that what-
given a new meaning to the night heroine, worthy to stand by the ever is is right?”
and the stars that look down upon side of any of the great ones of his­ “ No I don’t. I don’t believe
anything about it. How can I.
me. I see more and I am more, tory or romance.
Tim Raker, in his wav, was a when I don’t know anything about
because Rob, as you call him, and
specimen
of
roving it?”
as I like to call him, has intro­ curious