December 24, 1964 (24 pages)

bs) 88 3 a iy 3 O 3 a E 5 ” wt © ® ci t ra) be a E o 3 A see es eee SARAH ERE eB RET eB eee rE eee ET The Little Man Brought Us A Present Of Sorts large newspaper-wrapped package, made himself known and camein “tovisit a spell." He put the package on the table witn quite a flourish. "Just butchered and thought you might like some fresh pork. " We thanked him and I went for my purse but he waved me away. “We don'tsell things like that up here. It's a present." Chal was much interested in the rifle he carried, It was beautifully cared for and high powered. It seemed part of him, he carried it with such an air, When my brothers came in to dinner I called them over to tell them about our visitor. I was almost offended by their laughter. "Sure he's a pleasant little guy and he'd do anything for anyone but he never owned a hog in his life, But the mountain back of his cabin is crawling with other people ‘shogs. Some of them are ours. ' I was all enthusiastic over the pork. It was delicious, legal or not. But Chal was grudging in his praise of it or our visitor. But when that same visitor came to our door, as he did many times while we were there, with his violin under his arm, and played all afternoon for us, lovely old tunes, some jolly, some sad, all we aould think of was how kind and thoughtful he was, however different his way of life, When I was growing up with my brothers on the old ranch near Marysville, tagging them around, Ilearned to shoot. Now I was glad I had learned, for this country abounded in quail, doves, pigeons and cottontail. And I didn't inquire about their seasons. Chal saidI was a natural-born outlaw, and looking back now, by valley standards, I guess I was. But it didn't worry me then and it doesn't now. Chal's and Madeline's well being seemed all that mattered, and anyway my little mountain man assured mel needn't worry about the game warden, and told us why. “This last game warden is a regular eager beaver and bragged around how he only wanted to get elected'to shut down on them Whitmore outlaws out killin' everthing that walked or flew’, andhe wasn 'thardly in office before, sure enough, up he came, He made straight for old Blue mountain ridin’ right along with his jaw stuck out, when someone shot the horn off his saddle, “ The little man chuckled. "He got out of here in a hurry an’ he ain't been back, " Chal and I avoided looking at each other but we couldn't help but think of that high-powered rifle. One evening as I was scrambling around in the ditch getting trout for breakfast I noticed wild pigeons, flocks ofthem, whirling around and settling in a dead pine forthe night. And it gave me an idea. Thenext morning I was sitting at the feet of the dead pine, the boys" shot gun held tight and ready, when they came beating in. A half dozen seemed about right for our dinner next day. They were fat and delicious from their diet of wild cherries and acoms, a good change from pork and venison. Time passed quickly and it seemedI could almost see health returning to Chal, And then one day when I took his temperature it was normal! I could scarcely believe my eyes so long had the thermometer crept up and up, I didn't tell him. I waited and prayed, But when two months had passed and still no temperature we three rejoiced together. Tiny Madeline sang, “Daddy's almost well," I joined in her chant but acold spot in my heart, knowing the ups and downs of t.b. warned, work and wait. Madeline, a frail little girl of four years, never too well, was now never sick. She lived all day in the open, her playthings all the animal babies on the ranch, But the great love of her small heart was Nipper, my brother's young dog. Half shepherd, half coyote, he was a beautiful thing with his tawny thick coat and big yellow eyes. His heart was all shepherd, gentle and kind and brave, but his brush gave him away, He carried it asa coyote, barely missing the ground, Sometimes he was almosta nuisance for always, just at the peep of dawn, he'd be stationed at the door w hining\for her to come out. He was at her side all day and many times he saved her -_% from harm, He'd drag her away by her dress and if she persisted he'd howl for help. His howlwas the wildest, loneliest cry in all the w orld--all coyote now; and I learned to rush to their rescue. My days were very full. “Beds, baths, washing, ironing, scrubing floors and clothes, boiling dishes on an old outdoor stove. But I was happier than I'd been in years, Chal's and Madeline's healthseemed assured, And then I noticed Chal trying to hide a shortness of breath. Liquid on his lungs, Ithought! We will have to goto Peers immediately. But the valley was full of flu--the 1918 flu that so many of our friends had failedtorecover from. And Chal refused to let me go out with him, “Madeline must have one of us while she is growing up, " he said. “I'll be back in less than a week. " Andhe was, laughing. "Nothing the matter but too much care, I've gained weight too fast. Exercise is in order now." And then I had a letter from Dr, Peers, "Congratulations on fine work. Start Charlie on exercise now, on level ground, five minutes a day to start. And five minutes each day." Ican remember no happier time in my life than those last months on my people's ranch, The pure air and water, the quiet loveliness of the days, the stillness broken only by the tinkle of distant cowbells and roar of Cow Creek, the sense of security given by being near my people, the thoughtfulness of neighbors-sometimes I wished we had never to leave.. Soon Dr, Peers gave consent to horseback riding and while mother looked out for Madeline we began to explore the country. Madeline, as fall approached, began to talk of Christmas and the first morning we were to go riding she coaxed us to the old orchard to see a special Christmas tree she'd found. She was talking a blue streak as she held fast to her father'shand, pointing excitedly to a glistening little cedar tree that some way, escaping the meadow boundary, stood proud and beautiful in the November sunshine, That autumn year of 1918 in the Whitmore country turned to winter almost overnight. Dogwood and azalea that had flamed ribbon. such gorgeous colors along the creek were now stark limbs among tow ering evergreens; and wild ducks stopped at Cow Creek only to rest overnight on their way to winter in the valley's warmer sloughs, Half-wild hogs came down from their range on the mountain top to feed on. acorn mast under the huge oaks that bordered the meadows, A skim of ice formed nightly now on puddles under the ditch. But this was a special and wonderful year for the whole world and Whitmore had its part in the rejoicing. World War Iwas over at last. The Armistice had been signed and soon Whitmore's soldier boys from those isolated ranches wouldbe on their way home. Most of them, Now that we had horses we explored the country far and near, Sometimes we would follow cattle trails to the mountain-top where we had a view of Mt. Shasta far in the distance, beautiful in her: blanket of perpetual snow. We discovered old abandoned apple orchards on sunny hillsides and marvéled at the delicious flavor of winesaps and pippins still clinging to dying branches. We found tiny cabins in fern grown canyons, We thoroughly enjoyed the ride to Whitmore for the mail and groceries, Our ponies guided themselves through tunnels of wild grape vines, the grapes ripe now, good food when they dropped for the mountain quailthat scurried to cover at our approach. Two or three miles more of pine MADELINE..She thought the snake was a pretty and cedar forest and we were there, Whitmore was the nucleus of this little backwoods settlement far back in the hill country, and the people we came to know there were as simple and unaffected as intelligent children in their approach to life, They were shy with strangers at first, most of them very religious, some superstitious to a degree; but when once they knew one and found no trickery,. they were your friends for life. The “town” of Whitmore consisted of Hufford's General Store, two sullen looking boarded up saloons, their plank porches deép in pine needles, a gray warped looking old hotel and one or two cabins, not forgetting hitching posts and the deeply rutted road that ran with many a chuck hole and imbedded boulder far back into the higher mountain country. Tau fun to go to the store on achilly fall day ora snowy winter one and join the sheepskin-clad ranchers around the pot-bellied stove, while Mrs. Hufford sorted the mail--the post office being part of the store. Mr. Hufford, rubbing his hands together, always greeted one with a cheery smile. I always thought of pictures of Kentucky colonels when I looked at Mr. Hufford. Tall, thin, alwaysimmaculately dressed with his drooping mustache and wide brimmed hat, he seemed as southern as mint juleps. When Mrs, Hufford had finished sorting the mail, she resumed her seat behind her cash register and m adding machine, glad of a new customer but not wanting or needing friends. It was the easily recognized “outside” attitude but w these people were born and raised in this country. It was a strange and new thing for us to watch people barter furs or medicinalroots dug from their canyon homes, for groceries. As days passed and the holidays loomed near we began to plan for Madeline's Christmas. Not anything that would take real money, our future was too uncertain for that. But I didn't worry. Experience told me that the very nicest Christmases were created from love and happiness and we had worlds of that. Madeline beggedtohave "her" tree put up early so one cold crisp morning we trooped to the meadow to get it. It stood there so beautiful in its glistening greenness, its white tipped branches lace-tipped with frost, it seemed sacrilege to cut it and I touched it almost in apology. But when my brothers carried it tothe cabin and put it in the corner, its topmost branches sweeping the ceiling Iwas thrilled with the beauty it brought to our little home and it came to me that we might never know as lovely a Christmas again. Chal was so well now that sometimes he rode alone, He always took his rifle."Just might see a deer,” he'd say. One day he came home, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Boys, get ready to go to the mountain, I've just killed a wild hog! A huge brute with tusks that curl over her mouth." Fred dropped the flail he was threshing beans with, “Chal, there are no wild hogs on the mountain. They all belong to someone. It's Diller's oldsow you killed.” Seeing abashed consternation on my husband's face, he added, "Don't worry, Chal, we'll rade them oneof ours--it's time we butchered anyway." I sneaked a sly look at Chal's perturbed countenance, "Kinda looks like I might have company when the law catches up with me--huh, Chal?" The tree was beautiful with its strings of popcorn and cranberries. (Continued On Page 6)

bs) 88 3 a iy 3 O 3 a E 5 ” wt © ® ci t ra) be a E o 3 A see es eee SARAH ERE eB RET eB eee rE eee ET The Little Man Brought Us A Present Of Sorts large newspaper-wrapped package, made himself known and camein “tovisit a spell." He put the package on the table witn quite a flourish. "Just butchered and thought you might like some fresh pork. " We thanked him and I went for my purse but he waved me away. “We don'tsell things like that up here. It's a present." Chal was much interested in the rifle he carried, It was beautifully cared for and high powered. It seemed part of him, he carried it with such an air, When my brothers came in to dinner I called them over to tell them about our visitor. I was almost offended by their laughter. "Sure he's a pleasant little guy and he'd do anything for anyone but he never owned a hog in his life, But the mountain back of his cabin is crawling with other people ‘shogs. Some of them are ours. ' I was all enthusiastic over the pork. It was delicious, legal or not. But Chal was grudging in his praise of it or our visitor. But when that same visitor came to our door, as he did many times while we were there, with his violin under his arm, and played all afternoon for us, lovely old tunes, some jolly, some sad, all we aould think of was how kind and thoughtful he was, however different his way of life, When I was growing up with my brothers on the old ranch near Marysville, tagging them around, Ilearned to shoot. Now I was glad I had learned, for this country abounded in quail, doves, pigeons and cottontail. And I didn't inquire about their seasons. Chal saidI was a natural-born outlaw, and looking back now, by valley standards, I guess I was. But it didn't worry me then and it doesn't now. Chal's and Madeline's well being seemed all that mattered, and anyway my little mountain man assured mel needn't worry about the game warden, and told us why. “This last game warden is a regular eager beaver and bragged around how he only wanted to get elected'to shut down on them Whitmore outlaws out killin' everthing that walked or flew’, andhe wasn 'thardly in office before, sure enough, up he came, He made straight for old Blue mountain ridin’ right along with his jaw stuck out, when someone shot the horn off his saddle, “ The little man chuckled. "He got out of here in a hurry an’ he ain't been back, " Chal and I avoided looking at each other but we couldn't help but think of that high-powered rifle. One evening as I was scrambling around in the ditch getting trout for breakfast I noticed wild pigeons, flocks ofthem, whirling around and settling in a dead pine forthe night. And it gave me an idea. Thenext morning I was sitting at the feet of the dead pine, the boys" shot gun held tight and ready, when they came beating in. A half dozen seemed about right for our dinner next day. They were fat and delicious from their diet of wild cherries and acoms, a good change from pork and venison. Time passed quickly and it seemedI could almost see health returning to Chal, And then one day when I took his temperature it was normal! I could scarcely believe my eyes so long had the thermometer crept up and up, I didn't tell him. I waited and prayed, But when two months had passed and still no temperature we three rejoiced together. Tiny Madeline sang, “Daddy's almost well," I joined in her chant but acold spot in my heart, knowing the ups and downs of t.b. warned, work and wait. Madeline, a frail little girl of four years, never too well, was now never sick. She lived all day in the open, her playthings all the animal babies on the ranch, But the great love of her small heart was Nipper, my brother's young dog. Half shepherd, half coyote, he was a beautiful thing with his tawny thick coat and big yellow eyes. His heart was all shepherd, gentle and kind and brave, but his brush gave him away, He carried it asa coyote, barely missing the ground, Sometimes he was almosta nuisance for always, just at the peep of dawn, he'd be stationed at the door w hining\for her to come out. He was at her side all day and many times he saved her -_% from harm, He'd drag her away by her dress and if she persisted he'd howl for help. His howlwas the wildest, loneliest cry in all the w orld--all coyote now; and I learned to rush to their rescue. My days were very full. “Beds, baths, washing, ironing, scrubing floors and clothes, boiling dishes on an old outdoor stove. But I was happier than I'd been in years, Chal's and Madeline's healthseemed assured, And then I noticed Chal trying to hide a shortness of breath. Liquid on his lungs, Ithought! We will have to goto Peers immediately. But the valley was full of flu--the 1918 flu that so many of our friends had failedtorecover from. And Chal refused to let me go out with him, “Madeline must have one of us while she is growing up, " he said. “I'll be back in less than a week. " Andhe was, laughing. "Nothing the matter but too much care, I've gained weight too fast. Exercise is in order now." And then I had a letter from Dr, Peers, "Congratulations on fine work.

Start Charlie on exercise now, on level ground, five minutes a day to start. And five minutes each day." Ican remember no happier time in my life than those last months on my people's ranch, The pure air and water, the quiet loveliness of the days, the stillness broken only by the tinkle of distant cowbells and roar of Cow Creek, the sense of security given by being near my people, the thoughtfulness of neighbors-sometimes I wished we had never to leave... Soon Dr, Peers gave consent to horseback riding and while mother looked out for Madeline we began to explore the country. Madeline, as fall approached, began to talk of Christmas and the first morning we were to go riding she coaxed us to the old orchard to see a special Christmas tree she'd found. She was talking a blue streak as she held fast to her father'shand, pointing excitedly to a glistening little cedar tree that some way, escaping the meadow boundary, stood proud and beautiful in the November sunshine, That autumn year of 1918 in the Whitmore country turned to winter almost overnight. Dogwood and azalea that had flamed ribbon. such gorgeous colors along the creek were now stark limbs among tow ering evergreens; and wild ducks stopped at Cow Creek only to rest overnight on their way to winter in the valley's warmer sloughs, Half-wild hogs came down from their range on the mountain top to feed on. acorn mast under the huge oaks that bordered the meadows, A skim of ice formed nightly now on puddles under the ditch. But this was a special and wonderful year for the whole world and Whitmore had its part in the rejoicing. World War Iwas over at last. The Armistice had been signed and soon Whitmore's soldier boys from those isolated ranches wouldbe on their way home. Most of them, Now that we had horses we explored the country far and near, Sometimes we would follow cattle trails to the mountain-top where we had a view of Mt. Shasta far in the distance, beautiful in her: blanket of perpetual snow. We discovered old abandoned apple orchards on sunny hillsides and marvéled at the delicious flavor of winesaps and pippins still clinging to dying branches. We found tiny cabins in fern grown canyons, We thoroughly enjoyed the ride to Whitmore for the mail and groceries, Our ponies guided themselves through tunnels of wild grape vines, the grapes ripe now, good food when they dropped for the mountain quailthat scurried to cover at our approach. Two or three miles more of pine MADELINE...She thought the snake was a pretty and cedar forest and we were there, Whitmore was the nucleus of this little backwoods settlement far back in the hill country, and the people we came to know there were as simple and unaffected as intelligent children in their approach to life, They were shy with strangers at first, most of them very religious, some superstitious to a degree; but when once they knew one and found no trickery,. they were your friends for life. The “town” of Whitmore consisted of Hufford's General Store, two sullen looking boarded up saloons, their plank porches deép in pine needles, a gray warped looking old hotel and one or two cabins, not forgetting hitching posts and the deeply rutted road that ran with many a chuck hole and imbedded boulder far back into the higher mountain country. Tau fun to go to the store on achilly fall day ora snowy winter one and join the sheepskin-clad ranchers around the pot-bellied stove, while Mrs. Hufford sorted the mail--the post office being part of the store. Mr. Hufford, rubbing his hands together, always greeted one with a cheery smile. I always thought of pictures of Kentucky colonels when I looked at Mr. Hufford. Tall, thin, alwaysimmaculately dressed with his drooping mustache and wide brimmed hat, he seemed as southern as mint juleps. When Mrs, Hufford had finished sorting the mail, she resumed her seat behind her cash register and m adding machine, glad of a new customer but not wanting or needing friends. It was the easily recognized “outside” attitude but w these people were born and raised in this country. It was a strange and new thing for us to watch people barter furs or medicinalroots dug from their canyon homes, for groceries. As days passed and the holidays loomed near we began to plan for Madeline's Christmas. Not anything that would take real money, our future was too uncertain for that. But I didn't worry. Experience told me that the very nicest Christmases were created from love and happiness and we had worlds of that. Madeline beggedtohave "her" tree put up early so one cold crisp morning we trooped to the meadow to get it. It stood there so beautiful in its glistening greenness, its white tipped branches lace-tipped with frost, it seemed sacrilege to cut it and I touched it almost in apology. But when my brothers carried it tothe cabin and put it in the corner, its topmost branches sweeping the ceiling Iwas thrilled with the beauty it brought to our little home and it came to me that we might never know as lovely a Christmas again. Chal was so well now that sometimes he rode alone, He always took his rifle."Just might see a deer,” he'd say. One day he came home, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Boys, get ready to go to the mountain, I've just killed a wild hog! A huge brute with tusks that curl over her mouth." Fred dropped the flail he was threshing beans with, “Chal, there are no wild hogs on the mountain. They all belong to someone. It's Diller's oldsow you killed.” Seeing abashed consternation on my husband's face, he added, "Don't worry, Chal, we'll rade them oneof ours--it's time we butchered anyway." I sneaked a sly look at Chal's perturbed countenance, "Kinda looks like I might have company when the law catches up with me--huh, Chal?" The tree was beautiful with its strings of popcorn and cranberries. (Continued On Page 6)