The homesteader's daughter

CHAPTER I. Saved from a Blizzard

Virginia Grafton awoke one morning a real heroine. Her name had gone with lightning speed into every part of the world where the daily newspaper was read. Already letters and telegrams were on their way to her, conveying congratulations and praise, and some of them tendering more siibstantial appreciation. Presents of value and elegance, accompanied by the most fervent letters of transmittal, began to pour in upon her befaf&,«$he^ had halfopened her eyes to the fact that she had done anything to entitle her to more than passing rfqtice,; What had she done, anyway, to cause all this interest and laudation?

She and her little school had been enveloped in a blizzard. It was impossible for them to stay longer in the schoolhouse, and it seemed madness to go out into the storm and hope to reach a place of safety. Yet something must be done. No one dared venture to the coal-house for fuel, and the benches had been consumed to keep the children from freezing. Every mouthful of food brought for the noonday meal by pupils and teacher had been eaten. The snow, mixed with sand and particles of burnt stubble, was beating hard against the windows; the howl of the wind was like that o’f a maddened animal; the day had been turned into night by the thickness of the storm; the house trembled at times as if it would break in pieces; and, as a last warning, a window gave way to the violence of the blizzard. This threw the children into a panic, and it was only by the greatest effort of the brave little teacher that they were prevented from rushing out of the house into the teeth of the storm. Something now had to be done quickly. To wait longer for help from the outside would be suicidal. The schoolroom was rapidly filling with snow, and every child would be frozen to death within an hour. If any father or brother had started out in the storm in the hope of rescuing the blizzard-bound school he had been lost. The teacher gave up all hope of succor from this source. The lives of the children must be saved, and the teacher nerved herself to the hazardous undertaking. She had faced the dangers of many a storm on the prairie and she fully realized the awful responsibility she was about to assume. She hurriedly took off her underskirt, and, by a skillful use of her penknife, ripped it into strips. These she tied together and with the line thus made of the strips bound the children securely in a column, with the smallest pupils near the head. She then took her bearings with a small pocket compass, which she had used many times in her life in determining her course on the ocean-like prairie and upon which she placed implicit confidence. With this as her guiding-star, she was ready to go forth into the relentless storm, hoping and praying that she might be able to save the lives of the dear children under her charge.

“ Now, my dear children,” said she, “ you must walk close together; be brave and follow me. I shall lead you by the line I have made of my skirt, and with the help of our Heavenly Father, who has promised help in time of need, we shall endeavor to find safety in the nearest farmhouse. Do not pull back lest you break the line; try and not fall down; but if you do, cry out, so we shall all stop at once till you get up; the larger pupils must not go too fast for the younger ones, and by being steady and strong and patient we may be saved.”

The door was thrown open and in the face of the cold, pelting, whirling, merciless storm the courageous teacher led forth her flock of precious souls to battle with the elements and make a struggle for their lives. She had placed her compass in her mitten where she could consult it constantly; and, having taken the bearings of every house in the district tributary to the school, she took the direction indicated by the compass to the nearest place of safety, and pursued this course as the mariner does on the bosom of the broad ocean in darkness and storm. The prairie was slightly undulating, and the snow on the protected sides of the hills was piled in drifts, while in the more exposed places the ground was comparatively bare. The teacher occasionally reminded the children that they were going in the right direction, and that if they would be brave and hold out she believed all would be saved. She would say, “ The little compass I have shown yQU often cannot tell a lie, and it is pointing straight to Mr. Browning’s house, where we shall be welcome till the storm is over. We shall soon be there. Be brave, my darlings.”

The children believed in their teacher, and so far as they were able, obeyed her every instruction. Now and then, when a strong gust of wind would strike the little line of struggling heroes, one or more of the youngest and weakest would fall, but they were quickly helped to their feet and the column would move on. Thus they battled with the storm, which seemed to be increasing in violence and fury every minute; but the children had faith in their teacher and followed her in trusting determination. With her eye on the compass she led the way, and believed she had passed over most of the distance between the schoolhouse and the Browning home. Suddenly there was a shriek from the rear end of the column and the line jerked back hard enough to break it.

“ Stand still,” cried the teacher, “ let no one move while I find out what the trouble is.”

She soon discovered that three of the largest boys had deviated far enough from the direct line of march to fall into a “ slough well ” which had been left uncovered. Fortunately it was not very deep and she was able to pull the boys out and soon made them fast to the line. As she went forward to the head of the column she cheered each child with some encouraging word. Two little fellows were nearly exhausted; indeed, all were in a condition not to last much longer. The teacher herself was benumbed and almost worn out with the exertion and anxiety she had undergone. Suddenly the column was brought to a halt by one of the smallest children falling completely exhausted. The child was so far gone that it was impossible for the teacher to rally him, and she took him up in her arms and continued the march. With this additional burden upon her it required all of her courage to continue the struggle. She could hardly see the face of her compass. Two other children gave out and lay down to die. She could not carry all three, and two of the oldest pupils gallantly took it upon themselves to bear them in their arms. The condition of things was growing disheartening enough to try the bravest spirit. The teacher braced herself to a last effort. Her sweet voice rose above the hum of the storm as she cheered the children with words full of the courage of her own soul. Her words acted like a stimulant on the children and they nerved themselves anew for the struggle still before them. When it seemed that they must succumb, the head of the column came up suddenly against a fence.

The teacher cried out, “ Children, we have found a fence and I think we are saved. It must be the fence around Mr. Browning’s stable, for he has no other Wood fence on his place.” The children gave a cry of delight, and all were made stronger except the little ones who were being carried and seemed unconscious. The column groped its way along the fence, touching it occasionally to know that they had not lost their new-found guide. When they had gone far enough to be on the side where the house was indicated to be by the compass, the teacher lay down on the snow and peered towards what seemed to be the dim outlines of a house. To her inexpressible joy she saw a light, very dim, but unmistakable. Taking up the unconscious child in her arms and rallying the others in the column, she moved in the direction of the beacon-light from the window of a homesteader’s abode. A few steps further and the teacher was at the door knocking for admittance, and thanking God that she was there with the thirty-five precious children who had followed her lead with such abiding faith and enduring courage. The door was thrown open and they were admitted to shelter and warmth, Mrs. Browning and her two grown daughters were wild with joy when they saw that the teacher and children were safe in their home. Mrs. Browning’s joy was greater because one of her own children was among the saved, yet her heart was full of thankfulness on account of the others. The children were wrapped in warm blankets and given wafm coffee to drink, and, as soon as possible, warm food. The unconscious children were stripped .and bathed in warm water and thoroughly rubbed until the circulation of the blood was restored. Within a half-hour all had been cared for and were resting comfortably. Mrs. Browning and her daughters had been so engaged with the children that they had not missed Mr. Browning, who had gone out early in the storm for the purpose of bringing the school children to his home. But now having time to look about them and not seeing him, they all asked, fixing their eyes upon Virginia: “Where is papa?”

“ We have not seen him,” she answered.

“Why!” exclaimed Mrs. Browning, “did he not fetch you from the schoolhouse? ”

“ No,” replied Virginia, “ we have not seen him.”

“ Oh, merciful Father, he must be lost! ” exclaimed Mrs. Browning; “he went out into the storm to bring the school here, and you have not seen him ! ”

The two daughters at once began to cry in the most hysterical manner, declaring that they knew “ papa must be lost in the blizzard,” and the three began to pray for his deliverance.

Virginia, though in a greatly weakened condition, endeavored to console and reassure them. She said:

“ Most certainly Mr. Browning can take care of himself. If I was able to bring the children safely from the schoolhouse here, he would be able to find shelter.”

Mrs. Browning and her daughters were so wrought up that they seemed unable to comprehend anything that pointed toward the possible safety of Mr. Browning. The one awful vision seemed to have engulfed them — that he was lost in the blizzard. Finally, however, Virginia succeeded in quieting them, and, feeling the absolute need of rest she drank a cup of coffee and retired to bed.

Toward morning the storm abated somewhat, and about eleven o’clock in the forenoon had gone down sufficiently to allow persons to go out. Mrs. Browning and her daughters, assisted by Virginia, dug their way through the drifts to the stable and shed to discover the fate of the stock. They found the horses lifted nearly to the roof of the stable by the impacted snow, mixed with dirt and sand, and in a most pitiable condition,. By great effort they succeeded in digging away enough of the drift to enable the animals to emerge from their prison of snow. It was found that the cow-shed, which was made by running the straw from the thresher over a framework of poles, was entirely free from drift, and to this the horses were, after some considerable trouble, transferred. As the women were moving about in the stable, doing what they were able to do to relieve the immediate wants of the stock, one of the daughters stepped on something which gave her such a fright that she screamed and ran toward the door. Her mother and sister followed her, demanding in an excited way the cause of her alarm. The girl was so frightened that she stood speechless. Virginia, discovering that nothing could be obtained from the girl in the way of an explanation, went in search of the cause. _ She soon found the form of a man, half-buried in the straw, in a semi-unconscious condition, with his hands and face badly frozen. It was so dark in the unlighted stable that she could not discern his features, but she took hold of him and attempted to drag him to the light of the door. Her strength was not equal to the task, however, and she called to the other women to come to her aid. They all cried out:

“ It must be papa; oh! papa is dead.”

It took Virginia some time to persuade them that the man was not dead and that he needed assistance to save his life. She finally induced them to come to her aid. As soon as they took hold of the man, however, they screamed and ran away tov/ard the door. In utter despair of getting help from the frightened women, Virginia redoubled her efforts and finally dragged the man to the door, where she discovered that it was not the body of Mr. Browning, but that of Mr,. Moore, a ranchman whose place was not far from that of her father. When Mrs. Browning and her daughters saw that it was not Mr. Browning, they became sufficiently composed to take hold of the body and assist Virginia in half carrying, half dragging it toward the house. They had not gone far when several men drove up in a two-horse sled. They had been to the schoolhouse, and finding the back of a book which Virginia had been io The Homesteader’s Daughter

thoughtful enough to nail to the blackboard on which she had written, “ Started for Mr. Browning’s at six o’clock, they immediately drove over to the Browning ranch, arriving there in time to relieve the women of their painful task of carrying Mr. Moore to the house. After this had been accomplished they took Virginia aside and broke to her the sad news that they had the body of Mr. Browning in the sled, which they had found not far from the schoolhouse, partly buried in a snowdrift. They begged her to communicate the dreadful fact to Mrs. Browning and her daughters. They declared they had not the heart to do it.

The brave little teacher shrank from the ordeal, but finally consented to undertake it. Calling Mrs. Browning and her daughters together, she accomplished her task with rare good judgment and great tact, but the effect was, nevertheless, crushing to a degree not easily described in words. In the midst of this scene of sorrow other ranchmen who had been to the schoolhouse came to the Browning home. Among them came the father and mother of Virginia, who, after embracing their only child, and thanking God that she was safe, turned their attention to ameliorating the sorrows of Mrs. Browning and her children. The men and women of the district continued to arrive until every child who had been saved by the intelligent heroism of Virginia had been clasped in the arms of his parents. Their feelings were those of mingled sadness and joy — joy because their own were saved, and sadness because of the sorrow which had come to the Browning home. Probably no sUch scene was ever witnessed before. The strong, brave men kissed Virginia, wrung her hand, thanked God for such a woman, and hugged the children up to them as if to reassure themselves that they were not mistaken in finding their children alive, and gave expression to their sorrow for poor Mrs. Browning and her children in a manner to leave no doubt of its depth and genii uineness. Their joy, however, was greater than their sorrow. They could sympathize truly with Mrs. Browning, but they could not appreciate the great loss that had come to her and the blackness of the cloud of despair which overshadowed her heart and her home.

Other fathers had started out in the storm for the purpose of rescuing the school, but, like Mr. Browning, never reached their destination. Bewildered and overcome by the whirling, blinding, cruel blizzard, they laid themselves down and died. In three cases, brothers, who were stronger than their fathers, attempted to brave the blizzard to save members of their families, and were beaten down by the storm into stupor and death. The entire community was in mourning, and yet rejoicing was in nearly every home in the district because the children had been saved. With one voice the people blessed and praised Virginia.

Virginia’s father was among the number who had plunged into the blizzard with the determination of saving, if possible, his daughter and the dear little children under her care. After wandering over the prairie, he stumbled, half dead, against a settler’s house, and was taken in and cared for. When the storm had subsided, though in no condition to go out, Mr. Grafton insisted on being taken to the schoolhouse. Here he found the notice on the blackboard and at once started for the Browning ranch. He had not driven far when he met Mrs. Grafton in a sleigh with the hired man. Mrs. Grafton was informed of the notice on the blackboard, and together the party drove to the Brownings’, hoping and praying that they might find on arriving their daughter and the children.

Mr. Grafton took Mr. Moore in his sleigh to his ranch, where he could receive better care than at the Brownings’. Mrs. Grafton and Virginia remained to administer to the needs of Mrs. Browning and her sorrowing children. Yet, as soon as she could do so, Virginia went to other homes in the district upon which the cold hand of death had been laid. In fact, she was ubiquitous. Like an angel spirit she seemed to be everywhere comforting and helping. She had been popular in the district where she had lived all her life, and was esteemed and respected, but now she was the object of the admiration and love of every one, on account of the ideal character brought out by the most trying circumstances. Notwithstanding the praise bestowed upon her, and the universal love manifested toward her on account of her great achievement in saving the school, and her endeavors to soften the sorrows of those who had suffered irreparable losses by reason of the storm, she seemed unconscious that she had done anything outside of the pale of simple duty.

Letters and telegrams began to pour in upon the heroine school teacher, congratulating and praising her without stint. Valuable presents, and sums of money ranging from one to one hundred dollars, were received by her from persons of whom she had never heard, but who had read in the newspapers of her heroic deed. The money amounted in the aggregate to several hundred dollars. At first Virginia was disposed to return the presents and the money, but she was, dissuaded from this by those who appreciated more fully than the modest teacher the estimate placed upon her achievement by the country at large. Virginia insisted, nevertheless, upon using the money for relief purposes. At her suggestion a committee was formed with a view to carrying out this idea. Many of the farmers in the community had recently settled upon land and were in the struggle of a beginning. Many of these were ill-prepared for the devastating blizzard which swept over that part of the State. These suffered most, some of them being in dire need of assistance. The money sent to Virginia was used for their relief; and many families were actually saved from prolonged suffering by this timely aid. The older and better-fixed homesteaders gave freely of grain and provisions to relieve the destitution of their newlyarrived neighbors, and contributions of provisions were received from older communities, but the money turned over by Virginia was a Godsend. No one felt more thankful than she toward those who had, by their generous appreciation of her act, enabled her in this way to meet the wants of suffering humanity.

Among the presents received by Virginia was a beautiful gold watch set in diamonds, and an elegant gold chain. With it came a letter which somewhat annoyed her, and decided her to return at once the valuable gift. The letter was postmarked in a New Jersey city, and read as follows:

“ Dear Miss Grafton : — I have read of your heroic act in leading more than thirty school-children through a terrible snow storm — called in your country, a blizzard, I believe — to a place of safety, and I have been so moved by the story that I beg you to accept of the accompanying watch, duly inscribed to you. It is a small token of my appreciation and admiration of the heroic teacher whose name is given as Virginia Grafton. A young woman of such rare qualities of head and heart must become the object of admiration, aye, even more than that, the love of manly and womanly hearts everywhere. Pardon me for saying to you that I am a wealthy young man, fancyfree, and that I have for a long time been on the lookout for just such a young woman as you have proved yourself to be, to whom I might, in a proper way, and at the proper time, pay my attentions with a view of making her my wife. May I have the honor and pleasure of visiting you under these circumstances ? I need hardly add that I shall be extremely pleased to place in your hands the highest testimonials of my good character and position in society before I can expect a favorable answer from you. Will you be kind enough to consult with your parents, or such persons as you deem necessary, respecting my wish, and either directly or through them, inform me of your decision, at as early a day as shall be convenient for you?

Believe me, sincerely,

Your ardent admirer,

John Hawley Van Kirk.”

The epistle could hardly, have been more manly in letter and spirit. Virginia was bound to admit this, and made up her mind at once to treat it in the broad and generous spirit which prompted it. She showed it to her father and mother, and asked their advice as to what answer she should make. Both agreed that the letter could have emanated from no other than a gentleman, and hence gave their consent that a courteous and kindly reply should be sent. All things considered, it was also determined that the better thing to do with the watch and chain was to return them, with the explanation that it would be hardly proper to accept a present of such value. This was done. Within a few days another letter from Mr. Van Kirk was received by Virginia, accompanied by a plainer gold watch and chain, with this inscription:

“To Miss Virginia Grafton, the young school teacher who risked her life to save the lives of her school, and by rare judgment and great courage achieved an act which enshrines her name among the most renowned of her sex.”

The letter urged acceptance of this simple token of appreciation and admiration, and added that the giver would consider it in no sense extravagance on his part if he should lay at her feet a present worth many times the value of the watch and chain. The letter begged in most respectful and earnest terms that the request of the writer expressed in his first letter — that he be permitted to visit the home of the Graftons — be granted.

With the consent of her parents, Virginia wrote to her generous admirer that the second watch would be accepted in the spirit in which it was offered; that, while she felt he greatly overestimated her act in leading her school through the storm to a place of safety, yet, she truly appreciated his generous praise, and was thankful for all his kindly words and his most generous gift. She also informed him that after fully considering his request, with the approval of her parents she invited him to visit her home. She informed him that he would not find, perhaps, the luxuries of the East in the houses of homesteaders on the Western prairie, yet she felt certain he would find honest cordiality and genuine hospitality. She added that it might be well in the meantime to satisfy her father as to his character.

Within a fortnight Mr,. Grafton received from Mr. Van Kirk a letter thanking him for his decision and that of his family to allow him to visit their home. He enclosed letters from well-known banking firms and large corporations and trust companies endorsing him in the most unreserved terms. No credentials could have been more to the point or more exhaustive. The letters were all attested by record seals so that their genuineness could not be doubted.

Mr. Grafton was well enough pleased with the prospect of a visit from a person enjoying such distinction, yet he had some misgivings as to the possible outcome of it all. It was perfectly clear to him that Mr. Van Kirk had conceived a strange admiration and fondness for his daughter, whom he had never seen, and of whom he actually knew nothing except what he had read in the newspapers, which told the story of her heroism in saving her school from destruction by a blizzard. Mr. Grafton was not unmindful or wanting in appreciation of the greatness of his child’s achievement. Indeed, of all others he was most appreciative and proud of his daughter because of her splendid womanhood. In truth, he worshiped her as no other man could. Yet he knew also that she was only a plain, sensible, brave country girl, possessing very vague notions of the kind of society to which the wealthy Van Kirk was accustomed; and he felt that when the young man came to see Virginia he would soon lose his fancy for her; not because she was not good enough for him — oh! no, not that, for she was good enough for any man — but because his notions would unfit him to judge of the real value of such a girl as Virginia. He might be able to judge correctly of the merits of the ladies of wealth and aristocracy, for he was of that class evidently, but what would he know of the value of such a girl as his daughter? “ He wouldn’t know,” observed Mr. Grafton, “ anymore about it than he would know the value of a Western steer on the range.” Besides, Mr. Grafton had very decided ideas about plutocracy, aristocracy, and all that, and he had a sneaking notion that Van Kirk belonged to that class, else he would not be endorsed so strongly by presidents of trusts and corporations. He remarked very emphatically to his wife one day, when they were talking about Van Kirk’s expected visit, that he could never consent to have his daughter marry a man who belonged to a class that looked down upon the common people with contempt. No; he would never consent to that. He was down on plutocracy because, as he contended, plutocrats are oppressors of the people, and he would never compromise with them to the extent of allowing his daughter to marry into such a set. He recalled the fact that one of the strongest letters of commendation sent by Mr. Van Kirk was written on the letter-head of a trust, and calling the attention of his wife to the matter he said:

“ This looks suspicious, wife, and we must go slow in this business. He may be a nice young man, and be sincere in his admiration of Virginia; but if he is in a trust oi is backed by a trust, we’ll have very little to do with him. Why! what would our Governor, and our great Senator, and all my friends, who are fighting like tigers against the ’tarnal trusts, think and say should they hear that my girl, Virginia, my only child, was receiving the attentions of a plutocrat — one of the very worst, too, living as he does right down in New Jersey, which, as Mr. Bryan says, is a regular hotbed of trusts? This will never do, wife. It would ruin my prospects,. I am talked of, you know, for lieutenant-governor on the Pop ticket, and I’d stand no chance at all if it got out that I was harborin’ a plutocrat in my house, and that Virginia was being courted by a pampered son of a trust. I’m sorry now we wrote that letter inviting him to come to see us. But it is done and ^suppose we will have to stand by it.”

“ Yes, my dear,” said Mrs. Grafton, “ I know what you say is true about plutocrats and trusts, but you know Mr. Van Kirk had not asked to be allowed to court Virginia. He only asked to be permitted to visit us; that is all, my dear.”

“ Yes,” replied Mr. Grafton, “ I know that; but you know as well ds I do that he is cornin’ to see Virginia; that’s as plain as the crime of ’73, as Mr. Bryan says, just as plain as that — and I won’t consent to have any goldbug buzzin’ around my daughter — not if I can help it.*”