Hiking Westward

HIKING WESTWARD is really a chapter taken out of the lives of two wide-awake American boys who go West to make a home for their mother. Although ignorant of the conditions of frontier life, Phil and Ted Porter meet them manfully. They face their difficulties with a smile, work like Trojans on their quarter section and through the love which they bear their mother, as shown in their every act, they win the respect of the kind-hearted, but rough settlers: people who do things: to whom setbacks and difficulties are daily occurrences. Success crowned their efforts, developing a sturdy self-reliance and an ingenuity in surmounting the many obstacles which confronted them.

Originally this story appeared under the title of “The Young Homesteaders”, by J. W. Lincoln—my pen name, but the edition was quickly withdrawn and now, over my own name and with corrections and revisions, I desire to place it in the hands of all the boys I can as a true picture of early pioneer days.

CHAPTER I

“Phil, what should you and Ted do if you were suddenly called upon to support your sisters and me?” asked Mrs. Porter, as her family were finishing their supper.

“Play ball,” declared Phil.

“Be an aviator,” announced his brother.

“You might have known what their answers would be, Momsy, without asking,” exclaimed Sallie, with disgust. “Ever since Phil was elected captain of his school nine all he can think of is ‘play ball.’”

“Yes, and Ted’s just as absorbed in that old machine he is building—as if he could build anything that would fly,” interposed Margie.

“I tell you it can fly, Miss Smarty. It rose more than a foot from the ground and kept up for its whole length last week,” retorted Ted.

“That wasn’t flying, it was the shock caused by my lending you my week’s allowance,” retaliated Margie.

“You said you wouldn’t mention that, and anyway, I didn’t promise to pay it back until next month.”

“I’m sorry, Ted. That slipped out without my thinking. Do you suppose your machine would fly twice its length if I loaned you this week’s money?”

“Goody, sis, will you?”

“Don’t you do it, Marg,” warned her older sister. “Momsy, you ought to forbid Ted’s throwing away all his and Margie’s money on that crazy old airship.”

“I haven’t asked you for any, have I?” demanded Ted, his cheeks flushing.

“Good reason why—you know I wouldn’t lend you any.”

“You can turn up your nose all you like, but you’ll change your tune when you see me flying about.”

“I shall be so old my eyesight will be gone when you do.”

“Never you—” began Ted, only to be interrupted by his mother.

“There, there, son, don’t get so excited. It is all right for you to spend your own time and money on your flying machine, if you wish, but you must not borrow from Margie.”

“Now don’t scold Ted, Momsy,” broke in the younger girl. “I really owe him something because he helped me to pass my algebra exam.”

“Besides, I said I would pay her back next month—and I will.”

“All right, but I forbid you to ask Margie again. I think, too, it would be just as well if you all saved your allowances from now on—there is no knowing how soon they will stop entirely,” added Mrs. Porter, seriously.

At this statement, the boys looked blankly at their sisters, then at their mother, and as they searched her face, they noticed how unusually wan and frail she appeared.

“Why, Momsy, how tired you look!” exclaimed Phil.

“I am, son,—and ill. The doctor says I may,” and her voice quavered, “I may be obliged to give up my work and take a long rest.”

In shocked surprise, her sons and daughters heard her words, for, though they loved their mother dearly, with the carelessness of youth, they had failed to note the increasing look of weariness that was furrowing her face with lines.

“If Dr. Blair says you ought to take a rest, you shall,” declared Ted.

“Yet I can’t unless you and Phil are able to take my place as breadwinner, and flying and playing ball do not seem to be very reliable occupations.”

“We didn’t mean that; at least, I didn’t,” protested Phil, hastily.

“Nor I,” his brother quickly confirmed.

“Then what would you do?”

An instant Phil looked at his brother, who nodded, then replied:

“We’d take up a free homestead out West and raise wheat.”

So utterly different from anything they had expected was this announcement that Mrs. Porter and her daughters simply sat in silence.

Confronted with the necessity of bringing up four young children with only a small life insurance as a basis, the mother had courageously set about the task.

Artistic by nature, through the aid of friends, she obtained a responsible and remunerative position with a large department store which had enabled her to make their home in Weston comfortable and attractive, even, indeed, through the strictest economy, to save a few hundred dollars—but the effort had been at the expense of her strength and health.

“A lot you kids know about farming,” exclaimed Margie, the first to recover from her surprise.

“Or about anything else that’s practical,” retorted Phil. “But we can learn—and there’s a better living to be made from a farm, say out in Washington State, even the first year, than we could provide you in the city in five.”

“You think you would be happy to leave Weston, with your amusements and all your friends?” quietly asked Mrs. Porter.

“We know we should be,” asserted Phil. “Why, Jack Howell told us it took all the money he could earn just to buy his clothes and go round—and he receives twenty dollars a week. So how could we take care of you and the girls, too, even if we were able to get that much?”

“Which we wouldn’t be,” promptly declared Ted. “If a fellow can get ten dollars a week when he starts in, he is lucky. I know, because I’ve been trying to find a place where I could earn some money to put into my flying machine.”

“Why go way out to Washington?” inquired Sallie. “If you are set on going in for farming, there must be no end of places nearer where you could do as well.”

“If we had the money,” returned Phil. “As we haven’t, the thing for us to do is to take up some of the land that is given away by the government to settlers, and there is none easier to clear than in Washington. Oh, we know,” he added, forestalling the exceptions he knew his sister would take to this statement, “because Ted and I have been looking it up.”

“I thought lumber was the chief product of Washington,” declared Margie, cocking her head on one side, as though she were obtaining a mental picture of the products of that State as they were printed in her geography.

“So it is, but there are thousands of acres which are particularly adapted to wheat; that is, the climate is, and the soil is fertile,” replied Ted.

“But there are bears out in those forests,” protested Margie. “Just imagine Phil and Ted at work in their fields when up comes Master Bruin behind them and gives them a swat with his paw, knocking the mighty captain of the Parker School Base Ball Nine out with the first blow. Why—”

“Be sensible, Marg, if you can,” snapped Phil.

“Very well. Where do Momsy and Sallie and I fit in your plan? Dr. Blair says Momsy must have a rest. But all I can see in your scheme is a lark for you and Ted while we stay on here in the East.”

“We’d have Momsy and Sallie come out just as soon as we had filed our entry to the land and put up a cabin,” declared Phil.

“Leaving me to the tender mercies of some orphans’ home here?” bantered Margie.

“The bears would get you if you came out there; they like chicken,” grinned Ted.

Margie was on the point of retorting, when her mother interposed.

“This is too serious a matter to be turned into a joke, children. I—”

What Mrs. Porter intended to say, however, was left unsaid, at least for the moment, for before she could proceed, the door opened and in burst several young people.

“Hurry and finish your suppers; we want you to go canoeing,” exclaimed one of the girls. Then, as she noticed that Mrs. Porter seemed about to refuse, she added: “Now you mustn’t say ‘no,’ Momsy Porter. It’s concert night, and we can’t go unless you let Sallie and Margie and the boys go, mother said so.”

“We’re going to sow wheat instead,” asserted Margie.

“That will do, daughter,” rebuked her mother. “I—”

“You will let them, won’t you?” begged another girl.

“Yes. Dr. Blair is coming to talk with me, so I shall not be left alone.”

With a swish of skirts the girls swooped upon the frail little woman, almost smothering her with their hugs and kisses, then rushed away, her “be careful!” ringing in their ears as they trooped off, the boys trailing behind, their arms loaded with cushions.

CHAPTER II

Sallie’s remark about her brother’s absorption in his nine might have been applied with equal truth to every boy in the Parker School. When any of them met, the playing of the team was the one topic of conversation, especially since, under Phil’s leadership, there was the possibility of the interscholastic championship coming to Parker School, an honour which had not been attained for almost ten years.

It was but natural, therefore, that, with the captain of the team as their companion, the boys should deluge him with questions, and they did.

“Honestly now, Phil, do you think Parker can beat Mercer Academy?” asked one of them. “If our pitchers work well, we ought to.”

“If our pitchers work well,” repeated another, in amazement. “What’s the matter with you, Phil? Aren’t you the best pitcher in the school league, according to the coaches? Why, you did the most of the work last season and you’ve done all of it, practically, this year. And then you say if our pitchers go well we may win.”

“What’s up, anyhow?” demanded several of the others, astounded at the words of their captain.

“There’s going to be a change in the team,” replied Phil, quietly.

This statement elicited a veritable avalanche of comment and questions, but to them all the captain of the team would make no reply except to tell them to wait and see.

This answer was so unsatisfactory, serving as it did only to whet their curiosity the more, that finally Phil broke away from his companions and hurried ahead to join the girls. Yet no sooner had he caught up with them than he wished he had remained behind.

“Hello, Farmer Phil!” cried several of them, as they caught sight of the popular pitcher. “How’s crops? What’s the latest quotation on wheat?”

For the moment he thought to rebuke his sisters for disclosing the plan which he had intended to keep secret, at least until he should announce it on the morrow to his team-mates.

But Sallie and Margie wisely kept on the side of their companions farthest from him, and so riotous did the badinage become that Phil soon realized that anything he might say would only make the matter worse. Yet the glance he threw at his sisters was eloquent.

“Oh, you needn’t blame Marg or Sallie,” exclaimed one of the others. “I heard part of what you said before I entered the dining-room. So I bullied Marg into supplying the missing links.”

By this time the rest of the fellows had caught up, and the group quickly divided into couples, all of them talking excitedly over the surprising bits of news.

As they proceeded toward the boathouse, Phil was seemingly unconscious that he was walking beside the girl who had sought to appease his wrath against his sisters, and so absorbed was he in his own thoughts that it was not until she spoke that he was aware of her presence.

“I think it is perfectly splendid,” she exclaimed, tenderly.

“What?” demanded Phil, almost savagely.

“Why, your giving up the captaincy of the school team when you are certain to win the championship, just to help your mother.”

“Splendid nonsense! I should be worse than a cad if I didn’t.”

“But you could wait about going out West until after school closes, you know, and then you wouldn’t sacrifice the honour of bringing the championship to Parker.”

“You mustn’t say such a thing,” returned the boy, in a tense voice, as he heard with revulsion the very idea expressed in cold words which had been persistently surging through his mind.

“Why not, pray? I am as keen to have Parker land the championship under your captaincy as you are yourself, and what difference would a few weeks—it’s only seven—make to your mother? Besides—”

“Don’t, Helen, don’t,” pleaded Phil. “You know perfectly well how I feel about the team. But what would you, or any one else, think of me if I should let my selfish desire for school honours interfere with my mother’s health?”

“Yet it would only be for seven weeks. Besides, Blair simply said she needed a rest, but he didn’t say an immediate rest or—”

“It makes no difference if it were only for seven minutes, Helen, I should be ashamed of myself all the rest of my life if I let my own feelings weigh against Momsy’s health. Just think of all that she has done for us. Do you suppose she has ever thought of herself when anything for our benefit was at stake? It would have been better for her if she only had—I’ve been a selfish prig not to see before that she was killing herself. Besides, you can be certain she would not have told us that Dr. Blair said she must have a rest if he had not told her a great deal more. So if it is in my power, I am going to do everything I can to make her well and show her that I appreciate all she has put up with for me and the others.”

“Spoken like a man, Phil,” exclaimed a voice so close to the young people that they jumped in surprise; for so absorbed had they been in their conversation that they had not noticed the tall figure striding along behind them.

“Why, Dr. Blair, how you frightened me!” gasped the girl, confused and angry to think her words urging Phil to put the success of his team above all else had been overheard.

The physician, however, gave no heed to the remark, keeping his eyes fixed upon her companion, as he said:

“I really owe you an apology for playing the eavesdropper, Phil. But just as I caught up with you, I could not but hear Miss Howell’s pleading, and, as the matter had also occurred to me, I was unable to refrain from listening to your reply. I am on my way to talk with your mother now, and I felt I was justified because your attitude could not but have an important bearing upon my advice to her. What it is that you propose to do I don’t know, and it really doesn’t matter so long as you intend to do it at once. Your mother has worked till she is on the verge of a breakdown to give you young people a comfortable and happy home. As a matter of fact, I told her this afternoon that if she gave another week to her work I should be able to do nothing for her. So you see your decision not to await the closing of school is most timely.”

The words as to the seriousness of his mother’s condition were like blows to Phil, and it was several minutes before he felt sufficiently sure of himself to ask:

“W-what is the trouble with Momsy, Dr. Blair?”

“Tuberculosis, and in such a much farther advanced stage than I suspected. With plenty of fresh air and outdoor life, however, I shall be able to check it, I believe. Only she must be spared all worry. Again I wish to tell you that I am proud to know you appreciate all your mother has done for you.”

With a friendly pat on the boy’s shoulder. Dr. Blair vanished in the dusk as suddenly as he had appeared, leaving the boy and girl standing, abashed by the words he had spoken.

Impulsively Helen slipped her hand through her companion’s arm and drew him after the rest of the canoeing party, as she whispered earnestly:

“Forgive me, Phil.”

CHAPTER III

It was an excited crowd of boys and girls that gathered about the steps of Parker School the next morning, for the news that Phil was going to leave before the end of the term had spread rapidly. Yet, though they waited eagerly for his appearance, that they might hear confirmation or denial from his lips, they were forced to go to their classes unsatisfied, because the boy, realizing their curiosity, purposely kept out of the way until after recitation time, and when he did enter the building, he went directly to the office of the principal instead of to his class-room.

“What’s all this I hear about your deserting the team, Porter?” asked that official, as he motioned Phil to a chair.

“I do not know what you may have heard, Mr. Maxwell, but it is true that I intend to leave school today—and Ted will also.”

“Afraid of the Mercer Academy team?” sneered the principal, who had felt it keenly that his school had not been able to win the baseball championship and now saw the unusually rosy prospect of accomplishing the feat this season vanish.

A hot flush suffused the boy’s face at this taunt, and he arose from his chair.

“You should know me better than that, Mr. Maxwell. It is for no such reason. My mother is in a very serious condition, and Ted and I intend to take the burden of the support of ourselves and our sisters from her shoulders. Will you call a meeting of the team to elect a new captain, or shall I?”

As he scanned the manly face before him, the principal was thoroughly ashamed of his slur.

“I’m sorry to hear about your mother, Phil,” he said. “Also, I admire your pluck. Just forget, if you can, my remark about Mercer, but you know I had set my heart on your bringing the interscholastic championship to Parker and it is a keen disappointment to be informed of your leaving.”

“But that doesn’t mean Parker won’t win, Mr. Maxwell. The team is working splendidly and they will probably do better without than with me.”

“I’m afraid not. Somehow, when you were in the box, it not only gave confidence to our boys, but it rattled the opposing team. For what time do you wish me to call the meeting—that is, if you are quite sure you cannot be persuaded to remain in school until the end of the term?”

“That is out of the question, sir.” And then the boy briefly informed the principal of the seriousness of his mother’s condition.

“Have you a position yet?” asked Mr. Maxwell, as Phil finished. “If you have not, I shall be glad to do all I can to assist you. I know several business men and I shall be pleased to give you letters to them.”

“We are going out West to take up a homestead, but I thank you just the same.”

“Well, well, we shall not even be able to have your services as coach for Parker, shall we? That’s too bad. I had hoped we might, at least, arrange to have you do some coaching. H’m, going to take up a homestead, eh? You’ll have pretty tough ‘sledding,’ as they say, I’m afraid.”

“No more so than in any other work, and, besides, my mother will be able to be out-of-doors.”

“Is she going with you?”

“No, Ted and I are going alone. After we have filed our claim and put up our cabin, we shall send for her and the girls.”

“I’m afraid you will have some difficulty about filing your entry, as they call filing a claim, in the Land Office. I know something about it because my father was an ‘entryman.’”

“But why do you think so, sir?”

“Because you are neither of age nor the head of a family, and minors are not allowed to make an entry unless they have done service in the army or navy.”

“But widows can file a claim, and Ted and I shall select the homestead, build a cabin, then send for Momsy and she will make the entry.”

“Clever way of getting around it, Phil, very—that is, if the government will allow minors to act as settlers. How about that?”

“We do not know yet, but Dr. Blair will write to Washington about it and he thinks he can arrange it.”