THE PARSON'S WARD.
(By Roger Hanway.)
Rather more than twenty years ago there was, about midway between Denver and Colorado Springs, a point where the broad valley narrowed into a deep and wild gorge, Known as ttie George Washington Gulch. The gorge ,is there .yet, I presume, but the name has apparently disappeared, there being no such place on the revised maps of Colorado. But in those old days, George Washington Gulch was a relay station of the Denver stage line. The discovery of a rich vein of silver in this spot, and subsequently a valuable mine of the same precious metal, brought many wealth-seekers to this hitherto lonely spot, some of them rather queer people. And if one had about that time quietly investigated among the strange characters who formed the cunously cosmopolitan population of that Colorado valley, with a view to learning who among their number was held in the highest esteem, the popular verdict would have named "Parson Jim." The parson was the favorite among "the boys"; and hardly a man but would gladly have given his last dollar, ay, or his life's blood, had anything so serious been necessary, to help tho parson out of a tight place. Never let it bo imagined for a moment that the parson of the Gulch was the orthodox pastor, in the habit of wearing broadcloth of clerical cut and white cravat. He wore a broad-trimmed hat, certainly, but it was of the approved cowboy pattern; to a coat he was well-nigh a stranger, being content to appear in a heavy red woolen shirt; while for trousers he substituted the highly ornamented and picturesque buckskin breeches affected by Mexicans, Indians, and other denizens of the far West. It is also certain that the title of reverend had never been, verbally or in writing, prefiixed to his name ; and yet he knew, and the boys knew, that to be called "Parson Jim" was in itself a mark of distinction in. a district where men were supposed to have no official titles or surnames, while Christian names were invariably reduced to monosyllables. Parson Jim's record and capabilities were hardly such as x would recommend him as a candidate for church work in communities laying claim to advanced civilisation. He could not read the Pentateuch in the original Hebrew, or discuss the Thirty-one Articles; but he was a dead-shot with a revolver, and could gracefully ride the back of a bucking broncho. The Westminster Catechism was a sealed book to Parson Jim; but he could set a broken limb, raise a tent or build a shanty with the next man. And because he was cool as ice when fiery blood coursed through the veins of other men — because he was hra.ve as a lion — because he was gentle as a woman with sick men — because he had a big heart — because he spoke kindly words — and because nothing came amiss to Parson Jim, the rough specimens of humanity in George Washington Gulch loved and respected him as they | never could have loved and respected a grave and learned doctor of divinity I from the East. j
Now, in a western mining town it is a gross breach of etiquette to make enquiries as to a man's pedigree, or to attempt to learn more than he chooses to tell of his history prior to his arrival in the camp. So long as he is "square" and behaves himself, he is one of "the boys," and as such is bound to them by a sort of Freemasonry. Hence, when Parson Jim came to the Gulch and announced himself as a preacher, the miners asked no questions. They did not take "much stock ill preaching, but they were disposed to give the newcomer a "show;" and when time passed, and Parson Jim proved to their satisfaction thaii hft was made of the right "stuff," they not only tolerated him, but made him heartily welcome. There was no church in the Gulch ; there was no schoolhouse; there was not even a hall of any kind. There was, however, a large frame shanty used for a whisky saloon, named by its proprietor "The Rocky Mountain. Sample Rooms." In the West, be it remembered, all the drinks are samples, no matter if the customer gets away with twenty glasses from the same barrel. Parson Jim made his appearance in the Gulch during the winter immediately following the summer when the important discovery was made of. the existence of silver in the valley. ' He arrived on a handsome roan mare, without bag or baggage, and made his quarters at the rude hotel connected with the Rocky Mountain Sample Rooms.
During tlie evening there was a scufile in the large bar-roona, and the newcomer looked in through one of the doors to see what was the trouble. A young and slender lad of perhaps 19 or 20 years was struggling with a brutal-looking, muscular giant of twice his age. It was only a question of minutes when the big, rough fellow would "down" his young opponent, and yet the dozen or so of onlookers made no attempt at interference. Just as the new arrival appeared on the scene, the younger combatant got in a nasty blow, which evidently hurt and irritated his opponent. Quick as lightning the big fellow drew his bowieknife and raised it preparatory to plunging it into the lad.
"Hands off, you bully!" shouted the stranger in the doorway.
The burly fighter glanced rapidly in the direction whence these words came, but did not drop the hand which gripped the ugly knife.
"Drop that knife!" thundered the stranger, at the same time laying his hand upon, his pistol pocket. The bully noticed the last-named action, and letting go the boy, yelled with added oaths:
"Curse you, shut up! Who are you, anyhow?"
The large man. was evidently very angry. He held the knife in his left hand, and with his right drew a heavy, revolver, which he proceeded to level at the stranger. "Throw up your hands, quick!" shouted the latter.
But the fellow did tnot hear his warning. Click! went the hammers of the pistols. It was a question of quarterseconds now. Bang! went one revolver — the stranger's — and the big man fell — dead.
Then there was a momentary silence, followed by some queer ejaculations.
"Dead as an Injin!" "Sarved him right!" "Stranger's a plucky 'un!" "Be-ewtiful shot!" "Who air you, stranger, anyhow?"
"Boys," said the new arrival, when at last he had a chance to speak, "this is a. sort of business that I am not fond of. Sometimes it is necessary, though, as it was to-night. I am sorry ; hut lot's say no moro about it. I pay the funeral expenses and answer all questions. You want to know who I am? Well, I'm a preacher, and there'll he preaching in this room, with the land-
lord's permission, next Sunday morning at ten o'clock."
It was a strange introduction for a preacher, but it was perhaps the best one he could have had in that wild place. Anyway, the respect of those rough miners was lastingly secured, and from that time on he grew in favor as a man and a preacher. In those old coach days there was one serious drawback to travelling between Denver and George Washington Gulch — the road was infested with a small but hitherto invincible band of desperadoes, under the leadership of a regular daredevil known as "Kansas." This man Kansas had attacked and robbed the coaches fifteen or eighteen. times within six months ; and though he had never been known, to be accompanied by more than three confederates, his band was the terror of the stage drivers and their passengers. Once the proprietors of the stage line had organised a posse of armed men, who scoured the country in search of Kansas aoid his crew ; but the outlaw remained at large, and within a week secured considerable wealth from unfortunate travellers. Late in the evening of a summer day, when, with the exception of a party of gamblers at the "Sample Rooms," all the citizens of the -Gulch were soundly sleeping, a solitary horseman rode up to the unpretentious shanty which did duty for a parsonage. It -was nothing but a two-roomed hut, rudely constructed and roughly furnished. On this occasion the "parsonage" was in sole charge of Ah Wing, who acted as Parson Jim's cook and chambermaid. Ah Wing was himself perchance in some Chinaman's paradise, for his sleepy features, usually utterly devoid of expression, were illumined by a yellow smile. The parson was off, as he frequently was, on a trip down the valley, and the parsonage, being well removed from the more populous portion of the settlement, was seldom visited during his absence. The dreaming Celestial was therefore much surprised, and indeed frightened, when he was awakened from his slumber by a violent hammering at the barred door. He cautiously drew back the wooden bolt, and peered out into the warm, starlit night. Close to the door be beheld a stalwart man, with long black hair and a heavy moustache, holding in one hand the bridle of a large horse, while on. his left arm he carried a girl — evidently dead or in a fainting condition. "Where is the parson?" asked the stranger in a firm but quiet voice. 1 Parson Jim he go way mucbee; he no come home till Slunday," replied the surprised Chinaman. "Well, hold my horse and hold him tight. This young woman is very sick, and I'm going to lay her on the parson's bed."
He entered the room a and 'tenderly laid his burden on the camp cot which Parson Jim used for a bed. Then he tore a flyleaf from an old book which he saw lying around, and producing the stub of a pencil from his pocket, wrote hastily and somewhat clumsily a few words.
"See here," he said to the Chinaman, as he stepped to the door; "give this piece of paper to the parson as soon as he returns. This young lady is hurt a little, and frightened a great deal, and she has fainted. Pretty soon &he will come around. When she does, see that you take good care of her, you yellow-skinned, white-livered duck ! Perhaps you'll behave yourself all the better if I tell you that my name is Kansas!"
The Chinaman perceptibly trembled as he heard the dreaded name, but said nothing, and the handsome stranger sprang to his horse and rode away. Ah Wing quietly surveyed his new charge, and saw that she was a yellowhaired, fair-complexioned girl of perhaps fifteen or sixteen years, and cvi- j dently unused to work of any kind. The Chinamkn fearfully kept watch all night, and noticed that the girl passed gradually from her faint into an easy slumber. (To be continued.) With the new Amberol records you have selections four minutes long — pure in tone, distinct in articulation. ' E. Dixon and Co. keep a complete stock of Amberol Records. * | LOST HIS APPETITE. I To most people porpoise flesh as an article of diet is an> acquired taste, but it is freely used by the crews of foreign sailing ships. When a porpoise is caught, it is cut up by its captors i::to steaks, and hung up on deck to dry in the open air. Pilot Willis, who boarded the Norwegian ship Crown of . England outside the (Heads, Melbourne, • was enjoying a breakfast of porpoise, ' in the belief that it was a piece of succulent beef. Unfortunately, however, while in the middle of his repast he let fall a complimentary remark upon the merits of the beef, whereupon his host explained that porpoise, and not beef, ' was under discussion. A sudden loss of. appetite on the part of the pilot followed this announcement. Loss of appetite on land or sea, when due, as it mostly is, to derangement of the digestive organs^ cannot be rectified even by the most inviting of dishes. To cure the trouble, remove the cause by the use of IMPEY'S MAY APPLE — 8 to 10 drops after meals. Cure guaranteed. • j
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/HNS19100413.2.3
Bibliographic details
Hawera & Normanby Star, Volume LVII, Issue LVII, 13 April 1910, Page 2
Word Count
2,029THE PARSON'S WARD. Hawera & Normanby Star, Volume LVII, Issue LVII, 13 April 1910, Page 2
Using This Item
See our copyright guide for information on how you may use this title.