Samuel Merwin - 10 Classics Western Stories

There was something about Silver Bow that reminded me of Frenchman's Ford on the Yellowstone. Being the terminal of the first railroad into Montana, it became the distributing point for all the western portion of that territory, and immense ox trains were in sight for the transportation of goods to remoter points in the north and west. The population too was very much the same as at Frenchman's, though the town in general was an improvement over the former, there being some stability to its buildings. As we were to leave on an eleven o'clock train, we had little opportunity to see the town, and for the short time at our disposal, barber shops and clothing stores claimed our first attention. Most of us had some remnants of money, while my bunkie was positively rich, and Lovell advanced us fifty dollars apiece, pending a final settlement on reaching our destination.

Within an hour after receiving the money, we blossomed out in new suits from head to heel. Our guard hung together as if we were still on night herd, and in the selection of clothing the opinion of the trio was equal to a purchase. The Rebel was very easily pleased in his selection, but John Officer and myself were rather fastidious. Officer was so tall it was with some little difficulty that a suit could be found to fit him, and when he had stuffed his pants in his boots and thrown away the vest, for he never wore either vest or suspenders, he emerged looking like an Alpine tourist, with his new pink shirt and nappy brown beaver slouch hat jauntily cocked over one ear. As we sauntered out into the street, Priest was dressed as became his years and mature good sense, while my costume rivaled Officer's in gaudiness, and it is safe to assert two thirds of our outlay had gone for boots and hats.

Flood overtook us in the street, and warned us to be on hand at the depot at least half an hour in advance of train time, informing us that he had checked our saddles and didn't want any of us to get left at the final moment. We all took a drink together, and Officer assured our foreman that he would be responsible for our appearance at the proper time, "sober and sorry for it." So we sauntered about the straggling village, drinking occasionally, and on the suggestion of The Rebel, made a cow by putting in five apiece and had Officer play it on faro, he claiming to be an expert on the game. Taking the purse thus made up, John sat into a game, while Priest and myself, after watching the play some minutes, strolled out again and met others of our outfit in the street, scarcely recognizable in their killing rigs. The Rebel was itching for a monte game, but this not being a cow town there was none, and we strolled next into a saloon, where a piano was being played by a venerable-looking individual,—who proved quite amiable, taking a drink with us and favoring us with a number of selections of our choosing. We were enjoying this musical treat when our foreman came in and asked us to get the boys together. Priest and I at once started for Officer, whom we found quite a winner, but succeeded in choking him off on our employer's order, and after the checks had been cashed, took a parting drink, which made us the last in reaching the depot. When we were all assembled, our employer informed us that he only wished to keep us together until embarking, and invited us to accompany him across the street to Tom Robbins's saloon.

On entering the saloon, Lovell inquired of the young fellow behind the bar, "Son, what will you take for the privilege of my entertaining this outfit for fifteen minutes?"

"The ranch is yours, sir, and you can name your own figures," smilingly and somewhat shrewdly replied the young fellow, and promptly vacated his position.

"Now, two or three of you rascals get in behind there," said old man Don, as a quartet of the boys picked him up and set him on one end of the bar, "and let's see what this ranch has in the way of refreshment."

McCann, Quarternight, and myself obeyed the order, but the fastidious tastes of the line in front soon compelled us to call to our assistance both Bobbins and the young man who had just vacated the bar in our favor.

"That's right, fellows," roared Lovell from his commanding position, as he jingled a handful of gold coins, "turn to and help wait on these thirsty Texans; and remember that nothing's too rich for our blood to-day. This outfit has made one of the longest cattle drives on record, and the best is none too good for them. So set out your best, for they can't cut much hole in the profits in the short time we have to stay. The train leaves in twenty minutes, and see that every rascal is provided with an extra bottle for the journey. And drop down this way when you get time, as I want a couple of boxes of your best cigars to smoke on the way. Montana has treated us well, and we want to leave some of our coin with you."

Table of Contents

The Bridge of the GodsFrederic Homer Balch

Publisher's note

Preface

Part 1 THE APOSTLE TO THE INDIANS.

Chapter 1 THE NEW ENGLAND MEETING.

Chapter 2 THE MINISTER’S HOME.

Chapter 3 A DARKENED FIRESIDE.

Chapter 4 THE COUNCIL OF ORDINATION.

Chapter 5 INTO TRACKLESS WILDS.

Part 2 THE OPENING OF THE DRAMA.

Chapter 1 SHALL THE GREAT COUNCIL BE HELD?

Chapter 2 THE WAR-CHIEF AND THE SEER.

Chapter 3 WALLULAH.

Chapter 4 SENDING OUT THE RUNNERS.

Part 3 THE GATHERING OF THE TRIBES.

Chapter 1 THE BROKEN PEACE-PIPE.

Chapter 2 ON THE WAY TO THE COUNCIL.

Chapter 3 THE GREAT CAMP ON THE ISLAND.

Chapter 4 AN INDIAN TRIAL.

Chapter 5 SENTENCED TO THE WOLF-DEATH.

Part 4 THE LOVE TALE.

Chapter 1 THE INDIAN TOWN.

Chapter 2 THE WHITE WOMAN IN THE WOOD.

Chapter 3 CECIL AND THE WAR-CHIEF.

Chapter 4 ARCHERY AND GAMBLING.

Chapter 5 A DEAD QUEEN’S JEWELS.

Chapter 6 THE TWILIGHT TALE.

Chapter 7 ORATOR AGAINST ORATOR.

Chapter 8 IN THE DARK.

Chapter 9 QUESTIONING THE DEAD.

Part 5 THE SHADOW OF THE END.

Chapter 1 THE HAND OF THE GREAT SPIRIT.

Chapter 2 THE MARRIAGE AND THE BREAKING UP.

Chapter 3 AT THE CASCADES.

Chapter 4 MULTNOMAH’S DEATH-CANOE.

Chapter 5 AS WAS WRIT IN THE BOOK OF FATE.

Published:1891 Categorie(s):Fiction, Action & Adventure, Westerns

Encouraged by the steady demand for Mr. Balch’s “The Bridge of the Gods,” since its publication twelve years ago, the publishers have decided to issue a new edition beautified with drawings from the pencil of Mr. L. Maynard Dixon. This tale of the Indians of the far West has fairly earned its lasting popularity, not only by the intense interest of the story, but by its faithful delineations of Indian character.

In his boyhood Mr. Balch enjoyed exceptional opportunities to inform himself regarding the character and manners of the Indians: he visited them in their homes, watched their industries, heard their legends, saw their gambling games, listened to their conversation; he questioned the Indians and the white pioneers, and he read many books for information on Indian history, traditions, and legends. By personal inquiry among old natives he learned that the Bridge which suggested the title of his romance was no fabric of the imagination, but was a great natural bridge that in early days spanned the Columbia, and later, according to tradition, was destroyed by an earthquake.

Before his death the author had the satisfaction of knowing that his work was stamped with the approval of the press and the public; his satisfaction would have been more complete could he have foreseen that that approval would be so lasting.

July 1, 1902.