BILL'S BLUFF
The Pilot had set his heart upon the building of a church in the Swan Creek district, partly because he was human and wished to set a mark of remembrance upon the country, but more because he held the sensible opinion, that a congregation, as a man, must have a home if it is to stay.
All through the summer he kept setting this as an object at once desirable and possible to achieve.But few were found to agree with him.
Little Mrs.Muir was of the few, and she was not to be despised, but her influence was neutralized by the solid immobility of her husband.He had never done anything sudden in his life.Every resolve was the result of a long process of mind, and every act of importance had to be previewed from all possible points.An honest man, strongly religious, and a great admirer of The Pilot, but slow-moving as a glacier, although with plenty of fire in him deep down.
"He's soond at the hairt, ma man Robbie," his wife said to The Pilot, who was fuming and fretting at the blocking of his plans, "but he's terrible deleeberate.Bide ye a bit, laddie.He'll come tae.""But meantime the summer's going and nothing will be done," was The Pilot's distressed and impatient answer.
So a meeting was called to discuss the question of building a church, with the result that the five men and three women present decided that for the present nothing could be done.This was really Robbie's opinion, though he refused to do or say anything but grunt, as The Pilot said to me afterwards, in a rage.It is true, Williams, the storekeeper just come from "across the line,"did all the talking, but no one paid much attention to his fluent fatuities except as they represented the unexpressed mind of the dour, exasperating little Scotchman, who sat silent but for an "ay"now and then, so expressive and conclusive that everyone knew what he meant, and that discussion was at an end.The schoolhouse was quite sufficient for the present; the people were too few and too poor and they were getting on well under the leadership of their present minister.These were the arguments which Robbie's "ay"stamped as quite unanswerable.
It was a sore blow to The Pilot, who had set his heart upon a church, and neither Mrs; Muir's "hoots" at her husband's slowness nor her promises that she "wad mak him hear it" could bring comfort or relieve his gloom.
In this state of mind he rode up with me to pay our weekly visit to the little girl shut up in her lonely house among the hills.
It had become The Pilot's custom during these weeks to turn for cheer to that little room, and seldom was he disappointed.She was so bright, so brave, so cheery, and so full of fun, that gloom faded from her presence as mist before the sun, and impatience was shamed into content.
Gwen's bright face--it was almost always bright now--and her bright welcome did something for The Pilot, but the feeling of failure was upon him, and failure to his enthusiastic nature was worse than pain.Not that he confessed either to failure or gloom; he was far too true a man for that; but Gwen felt his depression in spite of all his brave attempts at brightness, and insisted that he was ill, appealing to me.
"Oh, it's only his church," I said, proceeding to give her an account of Robbie Muir's silent, solid inertness, and how he had blocked The Pilot's scheme.
"What a shame!" cried Gwen, indignantly."What a bad man he must be!"The Pilot smiled."No, indeed," he answered; "why, he's the best man in the place, but I wish he would say or do something.If he would only get mad and swear I think I should feel happier."Gwen looked quite mystified.
"You see, he sits there in solemn silence looking so tremendously wise that most men feel foolish if they speak, while as for doing anything the idea appears preposterous, in the face of his immovableness.""I can't bear him!" cried Gwen."I should like to stick pins in him.""I wish some one would," answered The Pilot."It would make him seem more human if he could be made to jump.""Try again," said Gwen, "and get someone to make him jump.""It would be easier to build the church," said The Pilot, gloomily.
"I could make him jump," said Gwen, viciously, "and I WILL," she added, after a pause.
"You!" answered The Pilot, opening his eyes."How?""I'll find some way," she replied, resolutely.
And so she did, for when the next meeting was called to consult as to the building of a church, the congregation, chiefly of farmers and their wives, with Williams, the storekeeper, were greatly surprised to see Bronco Bill, Hi, and half a dozen ranchers and cowboys walk in at intervals and solemnly seat themselves.Robbie looked at them with surprise and a little suspicion.In church matters he had no dealings with the Samaritans from the hills, and while, in their unregenerate condition, they might be regarded as suitable objects of missionary effort, as to their having any part in the direction, much less control, of the church policy--from such a notion Robbie was delivered by his loyal adherence to the scriptural injunction that he should not cast pearls before swine.
The Pilot, though surprised to see Bill and the cattle men, was none the less delighted, and faced the meeting with more confidence.
He stated the question for discussion: Should a church building be erected this summer in Swan Creek? and he put his case well.He showed the need of a church for the sake of the congregation, for the sake of the men in the district, the families growing up, the incoming settlers, and for the sake of the country and its future.
He called upon all who loved their church and their country to unite in this effort.It was an enthusiastic appeal and all the women and some of the men were at once upon his side.
Then followed dead, solemn silence.Robbie was content to wait till the effect of the speech should be dissipated in smaller talk.
Then he gravely said:
"The kirk wad be a gran' thing, nae doot, an' they wad a'
