Tennessee's Partner, Page 3
Bret Harte
square!" And before a handcould be raised to prevent him, he had emptied the contents of thecarpet-bag upon the table.
For a moment his life was in jeopardy. One or two men sprang to theirfeet, several hands groped for hidden weapons, and a suggestion to"throw him from the window," was only overridden by a gesture from theJudge. Tennessee laughed. And apparently oblivious of the excitement,Tennessee's Partner improved the opportunity to mop his face again withhis handkerchief.
When order was restored, and the man was made to understand, by the useof forcible figures and rhetoric, that Tennessee's offense could not becondoned by money, his face took a more serious and sanguinary hue, andthose who were nearest to him noticed that his rough hand trembledslightly on the table. He hesitated a moment as he slowly returned thegold to the carpetbag, as if he had not yet entirely caught the elevatedsense of justice which swayed the tribunal, and was perplexed with thebelief that he had not offered enough. Then he turned to the Judge, andsaying, "This yer is a lone hand, played alone, and without my pardner,"he bowed to the jury and was about to withdraw, when the Judge calledhim back. "If you have anything to say to Tennessee, you had better sayit now." For the first time that evening the eyes of the prisoner andhis strange advocate met. Tennessee smiled, showed his white teeth, andsaying, "Euchred, old man!" held out his hand. Tennessee's Partner tookit in his own, and saying, "I just dropped in as I was passin' to seehow things was gettin' on," let the hand passively fall, and adding that"it was a warm night," I again mopped his face with his handkerchief,and without another word withdrew.
The two men never again met each other alive. For the unparalleledinsult of a bribe offered to Judge Lynch--who, whether bigoted, weak,or narrow, was at least incorruptible--firmly fixed in the mind of thatmythical personage any wavering determination of Tennessee's fate; andat the break of day he was marched, closely guarded, to meet it at thetop of Marley's Hill.
How he met it, how cool he was, how he refused to say anything, howperfect were the arrangements of the committee, were all duly reported,with the addition of a warning moral and example to all futureevil-doers, in the Red Dog Clarion, by its editor, who was present, andto whose vigorous English I cheerfully refer the reader. But the beautyof that midsummer morning, the blessed amity of earth and air and sky,the awakened life of the free woods and hills, the joyous renewal andpromise of Nature, and, above all, the infinite serenity that thrilledthrough each, was not reported, as not being a part of the sociallesson. And yet, when the weak and foolish deed was done, and a life,with its possibilities and responsibilities, had passed out of themisshapen thing that dangled between earth and sky, the birds sang, theflowers bloomed, the sun shone, as cheerily as before; and possibly theRed Dog Clarion was right.
Tennessee's Partner was not in the group that surrounded the ominoustree. But as they turned to disperse, attention was drawn to thesingular appearance of a motionless donkey-cart halted at the side ofthe road. As they approached, they at once recognized the venerableJenny and the two-wheeled cart as the property of Tennessee'sPartner,--used by him in carrying dirt from his claim; and a few pacesdistant, the owner of the equipage himself, sitting under a buckeye tree,wiping the perspiration from his glowing face. In answer to an inquiry,he said he had come for the body of the "diseased," "if it was all thesame to the committee." He didn't wish to "hurry anything"; he couldwait. He was not working that day; and when the gentlemen were done withthe "diseased" he would take him. "Ef thar is any present," he added, inhis simple, serious way, "as would care to jine in the fun'l, they kincome." Perhaps it was from a sense of humor, which I have alreadyintimated was a feature of Sandy Bar,--perhaps it was from somethingeven better than that; but two-thirds of the loungers accepted theinvitation at once.
It was noon when the body of Tennessee was delivered into the hands ofhis partner. As the cart drew up to the fatal tree, we noticed that itcontained a rough oblong box,--apparently made from a section ofsluicing,--and half filled with bark and the tassels of pine. The cartwas further decorated with slips of willow, and made fragrant withbuckeye-blossoms. When the body was deposited in the box, Tennessee'sPartner drew over it a piece of tarred canvas, and gravely mounting thenarrow seat in front, with his feet upon the shafts, urged the littledonkey forward. The equipage moved slowly on, at that decorous pacewhich was habitual with Jenny even under less solemn circumstances. Themen--half curiously, have jestingly, but all good-humoredly--strolledalong beside the cart; some in advance, some a little in the rear, ofthe homely catafalque. But, whether from the narrowing of the road orsome present sense of decorum, as the cart passed on, the company fellto the rear in couples, keeping step, and otherwise assuming theexternal show of a formal procession. Jack Folinsbee, who had at theoutset played a funeral march in dumb show upon an imaginary trombone,desisted, from a lack of sympathy and appreciation,--not having,perhaps, your true humorist's capacity to be content with the enjoymentof his own fun.
The way led through Grizzly Canyon, by this time clothed in funerealdrapery and shadows. The redwoods, burying their moccasined feet in thered soil, stood in Indian-file along the track, trailing an uncouthbenediction from their bending boughs upon the passing bier. A hare,surprised into helpless inactivity, sat upright and pulsating in theferns by the roadside, as the cortege went by. Squirrels hastened togain a secure outlook from higher boughs; and the blue-jays, spreadingtheir wings, fluttered before them like outriders, until the outskirtsof Sandy Bar were reached, and the solitary cabin of Tennessee'sPartner.
Viewed under more favorable circumstances, it would not have been acheerful place. The unpicturesque site, the rude and unlovely outlines,the unsavory details, which distinguish the nest-building of theCalifornia miner, were all here, with the dreariness of decaysuperadded. A few paces from the cabin there was a rough enclosure,which, in the brief days of Tennessee's Partner's matrimonial felicity,had been used as a garden, but was now overgrown with fern. As weapproached it we were surprised to find that what we had taken for arecent attempt at cultivation was the broken soil about an open grave.
The cart was halted before the enclosure; and rejecting the offers ofassistance with the same air of simple self-reliance he had displayedthroughout, Tennessee's Partner lifted the rough coffin on his back, anddeposited it, unaided, within the shallow grave. He then nailed down theboard which served as a lid, and, mounting the little mound of earthbeside it, took off his hat, and slowly mopped his face with hishandkerchief. This the crowd felt was a preliminary to speech; and theydisposed themselves variously on stumps and boulders, and sat expectant.
"When a man," began Tennessee's Partner slowly, "has been running freeall day, what's the natural thing for him to do? Why, to come home. Andif he ain't in a condition to go home, what can his best friend do? Why,bring him home! And here's Tennessee has been running free, and webrings him home from his wandering." He paused, and picked up a fragmentof quartz, rubbed it thoughtfully on his sleeve, and went on: "It ain'tthe first time that I've packed him on my back, as you see'd me now. Itain't the first time that I brought him to this yer cabin when hecouldn't help himself; it ain't the first time that I and Jinny havewaited for him on yon hill, and picked him up and so fetched him home,when he couldn't speak, and didn't know me. And now that it's the lasttime, why"--he paused, and rubbed the quartz gently on his sleeve--"yousee it's sort of rough on his pardner. And now, gentlemen," he addedabruptly, picking up his long handled shovel, "the fun'l's over; and mythanks, and Tennessee's thanks, to you for your trouble."
Resisting any proffers of assistance, he began to fill in the grave,turning his back upon the crowd, that, after a few moments' hesitation,gradually withdrew. As they crossed the little ridge that hid Sandy Barfrom view, some, looking back, thought they could see Tennessee'sPartner, his work done, sitting upon the grave, his shovel between hisknees, and his face buried in his red bandanna handkerchief. But it wasargued by others that you couldn't tell his face from his handkerchiefat that distance; and this point remained undecided. r />
In the reaction that followed the feverish excitement of that day,Tennessee's Partner was not forgotten. A secret investigation hadcleared him of any complicity in Tennessee's guilt, and left only asuspicion of his general sanity. Sandy Bar made a point of calling onhim, and proffering various uncouth but well-meant kindnesses. But fromthat day his rude health and great strength seemed visibly to decline;and when the rainy season fairly set in, and the tiny grass-blades werebeginning to peep from the rocky mound above Tennessee's grave, he tookto his bed.
One night, when the pines beside the cabin were swaying in the storm,and trailing their slender fingers
For a moment his life was in jeopardy. One or two men sprang to theirfeet, several hands groped for hidden weapons, and a suggestion to"throw him from the window," was only overridden by a gesture from theJudge. Tennessee laughed. And apparently oblivious of the excitement,Tennessee's Partner improved the opportunity to mop his face again withhis handkerchief.
When order was restored, and the man was made to understand, by the useof forcible figures and rhetoric, that Tennessee's offense could not becondoned by money, his face took a more serious and sanguinary hue, andthose who were nearest to him noticed that his rough hand trembledslightly on the table. He hesitated a moment as he slowly returned thegold to the carpetbag, as if he had not yet entirely caught the elevatedsense of justice which swayed the tribunal, and was perplexed with thebelief that he had not offered enough. Then he turned to the Judge, andsaying, "This yer is a lone hand, played alone, and without my pardner,"he bowed to the jury and was about to withdraw, when the Judge calledhim back. "If you have anything to say to Tennessee, you had better sayit now." For the first time that evening the eyes of the prisoner andhis strange advocate met. Tennessee smiled, showed his white teeth, andsaying, "Euchred, old man!" held out his hand. Tennessee's Partner tookit in his own, and saying, "I just dropped in as I was passin' to seehow things was gettin' on," let the hand passively fall, and adding that"it was a warm night," I again mopped his face with his handkerchief,and without another word withdrew.
The two men never again met each other alive. For the unparalleledinsult of a bribe offered to Judge Lynch--who, whether bigoted, weak,or narrow, was at least incorruptible--firmly fixed in the mind of thatmythical personage any wavering determination of Tennessee's fate; andat the break of day he was marched, closely guarded, to meet it at thetop of Marley's Hill.
How he met it, how cool he was, how he refused to say anything, howperfect were the arrangements of the committee, were all duly reported,with the addition of a warning moral and example to all futureevil-doers, in the Red Dog Clarion, by its editor, who was present, andto whose vigorous English I cheerfully refer the reader. But the beautyof that midsummer morning, the blessed amity of earth and air and sky,the awakened life of the free woods and hills, the joyous renewal andpromise of Nature, and, above all, the infinite serenity that thrilledthrough each, was not reported, as not being a part of the sociallesson. And yet, when the weak and foolish deed was done, and a life,with its possibilities and responsibilities, had passed out of themisshapen thing that dangled between earth and sky, the birds sang, theflowers bloomed, the sun shone, as cheerily as before; and possibly theRed Dog Clarion was right.
Tennessee's Partner was not in the group that surrounded the ominoustree. But as they turned to disperse, attention was drawn to thesingular appearance of a motionless donkey-cart halted at the side ofthe road. As they approached, they at once recognized the venerableJenny and the two-wheeled cart as the property of Tennessee'sPartner,--used by him in carrying dirt from his claim; and a few pacesdistant, the owner of the equipage himself, sitting under a buckeye tree,wiping the perspiration from his glowing face. In answer to an inquiry,he said he had come for the body of the "diseased," "if it was all thesame to the committee." He didn't wish to "hurry anything"; he couldwait. He was not working that day; and when the gentlemen were done withthe "diseased" he would take him. "Ef thar is any present," he added, inhis simple, serious way, "as would care to jine in the fun'l, they kincome." Perhaps it was from a sense of humor, which I have alreadyintimated was a feature of Sandy Bar,--perhaps it was from somethingeven better than that; but two-thirds of the loungers accepted theinvitation at once.
It was noon when the body of Tennessee was delivered into the hands ofhis partner. As the cart drew up to the fatal tree, we noticed that itcontained a rough oblong box,--apparently made from a section ofsluicing,--and half filled with bark and the tassels of pine. The cartwas further decorated with slips of willow, and made fragrant withbuckeye-blossoms. When the body was deposited in the box, Tennessee'sPartner drew over it a piece of tarred canvas, and gravely mounting thenarrow seat in front, with his feet upon the shafts, urged the littledonkey forward. The equipage moved slowly on, at that decorous pacewhich was habitual with Jenny even under less solemn circumstances. Themen--half curiously, have jestingly, but all good-humoredly--strolledalong beside the cart; some in advance, some a little in the rear, ofthe homely catafalque. But, whether from the narrowing of the road orsome present sense of decorum, as the cart passed on, the company fellto the rear in couples, keeping step, and otherwise assuming theexternal show of a formal procession. Jack Folinsbee, who had at theoutset played a funeral march in dumb show upon an imaginary trombone,desisted, from a lack of sympathy and appreciation,--not having,perhaps, your true humorist's capacity to be content with the enjoymentof his own fun.
The way led through Grizzly Canyon, by this time clothed in funerealdrapery and shadows. The redwoods, burying their moccasined feet in thered soil, stood in Indian-file along the track, trailing an uncouthbenediction from their bending boughs upon the passing bier. A hare,surprised into helpless inactivity, sat upright and pulsating in theferns by the roadside, as the cortege went by. Squirrels hastened togain a secure outlook from higher boughs; and the blue-jays, spreadingtheir wings, fluttered before them like outriders, until the outskirtsof Sandy Bar were reached, and the solitary cabin of Tennessee'sPartner.
Viewed under more favorable circumstances, it would not have been acheerful place. The unpicturesque site, the rude and unlovely outlines,the unsavory details, which distinguish the nest-building of theCalifornia miner, were all here, with the dreariness of decaysuperadded. A few paces from the cabin there was a rough enclosure,which, in the brief days of Tennessee's Partner's matrimonial felicity,had been used as a garden, but was now overgrown with fern. As weapproached it we were surprised to find that what we had taken for arecent attempt at cultivation was the broken soil about an open grave.
The cart was halted before the enclosure; and rejecting the offers ofassistance with the same air of simple self-reliance he had displayedthroughout, Tennessee's Partner lifted the rough coffin on his back, anddeposited it, unaided, within the shallow grave. He then nailed down theboard which served as a lid, and, mounting the little mound of earthbeside it, took off his hat, and slowly mopped his face with hishandkerchief. This the crowd felt was a preliminary to speech; and theydisposed themselves variously on stumps and boulders, and sat expectant.
"When a man," began Tennessee's Partner slowly, "has been running freeall day, what's the natural thing for him to do? Why, to come home. Andif he ain't in a condition to go home, what can his best friend do? Why,bring him home! And here's Tennessee has been running free, and webrings him home from his wandering." He paused, and picked up a fragmentof quartz, rubbed it thoughtfully on his sleeve, and went on: "It ain'tthe first time that I've packed him on my back, as you see'd me now. Itain't the first time that I brought him to this yer cabin when hecouldn't help himself; it ain't the first time that I and Jinny havewaited for him on yon hill, and picked him up and so fetched him home,when he couldn't speak, and didn't know me. And now that it's the lasttime, why"--he paused, and rubbed the quartz gently on his sleeve--"yousee it's sort of rough on his pardner. And now, gentlemen," he addedabruptly, picking up his long handled shovel, "the fun'l's over; and mythanks, and Tennessee's thanks, to you for your trouble."
Resisting any proffers of assistance, he began to fill in the grave,turning his back upon the crowd, that, after a few moments' hesitation,gradually withdrew. As they crossed the little ridge that hid Sandy Barfrom view, some, looking back, thought they could see Tennessee'sPartner, his work done, sitting upon the grave, his shovel between hisknees, and his face buried in his red bandanna handkerchief. But it wasargued by others that you couldn't tell his face from his handkerchiefat that distance; and this point remained undecided. r />
In the reaction that followed the feverish excitement of that day,Tennessee's Partner was not forgotten. A secret investigation hadcleared him of any complicity in Tennessee's guilt, and left only asuspicion of his general sanity. Sandy Bar made a point of calling onhim, and proffering various uncouth but well-meant kindnesses. But fromthat day his rude health and great strength seemed visibly to decline;and when the rainy season fairly set in, and the tiny grass-blades werebeginning to peep from the rocky mound above Tennessee's grave, he tookto his bed.
One night, when the pines beside the cabin were swaying in the storm,and trailing their slender fingers
