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million and faced for California； he rode a mule over a new…cut trail； with
convenient road houses along the way； clear to the steamboat landing at
Fort Yukon。
At the first meal on the ocean…going steamship out of St。 Michaels； a
waiter； greyish…haired； pain…ravaged of face； scurvy…twisted of body；
served him。 Old Tarwater was compelled to look him over twice in order
to make certain he was Charles Crayton。
〃Got it bad； eh； son？〃 Tarwater queried。
〃Just my luck；〃 the other complained； after recognition and greeting。
〃Only one of the party that the scurvy attacked。 I've been through hell。
The other three are all at work and healthy； getting grub…stake to prospect
up White River this winter。 Anson's earning twenty…five a day at
carpentering； Liverpool getting twenty logging for the saw…mill； and Big
Bill's getting forty a day as chief sawyer。 I tried my best； and if it hadn't
been for scurvy 。 。 。〃
〃Sure； son； you done your best； which ain't much； you being naturally
irritable and hard from too much business。 Now I'll tell you what。 You
ain't fit to work crippled up this way。 I'll pay your passage with the
captain in kind remembrance of the voyage you gave me； and you can lay
up and take it easy the rest of the trip。 And what are your circumstances
when you land at San Francisco？〃
Charles Crayton shrugged his shoulders。
〃Tell you what；〃 Tarwater continued。 〃There's work on the ranch for
you till you can start business again。〃
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〃I could manage your business for you … 〃 Charles began eagerly。
〃No； siree；〃 Tarwater declared emphatically。 〃But there's always
post…holes to dig； and cordwood to chop； and the climate's fine 。 。 。 〃
Tarwater arrived home a true prodigal grandfather for whom the fatted
calf was killed and ready。 But first； ere he sat down at table； he must
stroll out and around。 And sons and daughters of his flesh and of the law
needs must go with him fulsomely eating out of the gnarled old hand that
had half a million to disburse。 He led the way； and no opinion he slyly
uttered was preposterous or impossible enough to draw dissent from his
following。 Pausing by the ruined water wheel which he had built from
the standing timber； his face beamed as he gazed across the stretches of
Tarwater Valley； and on and up the far heights to the summit of Tarwater
Mountain … now all his again。
A thought came to him that made him avert his face and blow his nose
in order to hide the twinkle in his eyes。 Still attended by the entire family；
he strolled on to the dilapidated barn。 He picked up an age…weathered
single…tree from the ground。
〃William；〃 he said。 〃Remember that little conversation we had just
before I started to Klondike？ Sure； William； you remember。 You told
me I was crazy。 And I said my father'd have walloped the tar out of me
with a single…tree if I'd spoke to him that way。〃
〃Aw； but that was only foolin'；〃 William temporized。
William was a grizzled man of forty…five； and his wife and grown sons
stood in the group； curiously watching Grandfather Tarwater take off his
coat and hand it to Mary to hold。
〃William … come here；〃 he commanded imperatively。
No matter how reluctantly； William came。
〃Just a taste； William； son； of what my father give me often enough；〃
Old Tarwater crooned； as he laid on his son's back and shoulders with the
single…tree。 〃Observe； I ain't hitting you on the head。 My father had a
gosh…wollickin' temper and never drew the line at heads when he went
after tar。 … Don't jerk your elbows back that way！ You're likely to get a
crack on one by accident。 And just tell me one thing； William； son： is
there nary notion in your head that I'm crazy？〃
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〃No！〃 William yelped out in pain； as he danced about。 〃You ain't
crazy； father of course you ain't crazy！〃
〃You said it；〃 Old Tarwater remarked sententiously； tossing the single…
tree aside and starting to struggle into his coat。
〃Now let's all go in and eat。〃
Glen Ellen； California； SEPTEMBER 14； 1916。
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THE PRINCESS
A FIRE burned cheerfully in the jungle camp； and beside the fire
lolled a cheerful…seeming though horrible…appearing man。 This was a
hobo jungle； pitched in a thin strip of woods that lay between a railroad
embankment and the bank of a river。 But no hobo was the man。 So
deep…sunk was he in the social abyss that a proper hobo would not sit by
the same fire with him。 A gay…cat； who is an ignorant new…comer on the
〃Road；〃 might sit with such as he； but only long enough to learn better。
Even low down bindle…stiffs and stew…bums； after a once…over； would have
passed this man by。 A genuine hobo； a couple of punks； or a bunch of
tender…yeared road… kids might have gone through his rags for any stray
pennies or nickels and kicked him out into the darkness。 Even an alki…
stiff would have reckoned himself immeasurably superior。
For this man was that hybrid of tramp…land； an alki…stiff that has
degenerated into a stew…bum； with so little self…respect that he will never
〃boil…up；〃 and with so little pride that he will eat out of a garbage can。
He was truly horrible…appearing。 He might have been sixty years of age；
he might have been ninety。 His garments might have been discarded by a
rag…picker。 Beside him； an unrolled bundle showed itself as consisting of
a ragged overcoat and containing an empty and smoke…blackened tomato
can； an empty and battered condensed milk can； some dog…meat partly
wrapped in brown paper and evidently begged from some butcher…shop； a
carrot that had been run over in the street by a wagon…wheel； three
greenish… cankered and decayed potatoes； and a sugar…bun with a mouthful
bitten from it and rescued from the gutter； as was made patent by the
gutter…filth that still encrusted it。
A prodigious growth of whiskers； greyish…dirty and untrimmed for
years； sprouted from his face。 This hirsute growth should have been
white； but the season was summer and it had not been exposed to a rain…
shower for some time。 What was visible of the face looked as if at some
period it had stopped a hand…grenade。 The nose was so variously
malformed in its healed brokenness that there was no bridge； while one
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nostril； the size of a pea； opened downward； and the other； the size of a
robin's egg； tilted upward to the sky。 One eye； of normal size； dim…brown
and misty； bulged to the verge of popping out； and as if from senility wept
copiously and continuously。 The other eye； scarcely larger than a
squirrel's and as uncannily bright； twisted up obliquely into the hairy scar
of a bone…crushed eyebrow。 And he had but one arm。
Yet was he cheerful。 On his face； in mild degree； was depicted
sensuous pleasure as he lethargically scratched his ribs with his one hand。
He pawed over his food…scraps； debated； then drew a twelve…ounce
druggist bottle from his inside coat…pocket。 The bottle was full of a
colourless liquid； the contemplation of which made his little eye burn
brighter and quickened his movements。 Picking up the tomato can； he
arose； went down the short path to the river； and returned with the can
filled with not…nice river water。 In the condensed milk can he mixed one
part of water with two parts of fluid from the bottle。 This colourless fluid
was druggist's alcohol； and as such is known in tramp…land as 〃alki。〃
Slow f