Bannack

“ Such is the kind of swaggering and rhodomontade in which the “red men” are prone to indulge in their vainglorious moments; for, with all their vaunted taciturnity, they are vehemently prone at times to become eloquent about their exploits, and to sound their own trumpet.
Having vented their valor in this fierce effervescence, the Bannack braves gradually calmed down, lowered their crests, smoothed their ruffled feathers, and betook themselves to sleep, without placing a single guard over their camp ”

“ His next effort was to be appointed deputy United States marshal, and he received the indorsement of the leading men of Bannack. Plummer afterward tried several times to kill Nathaniel P. Langford, who caused his defeat, but was unsuccessful in getting the opportunity he sought.
From Bannack to Salt Lake City was about five hundred miles. Mails by this time came in from Salt Lake City, which was the supply point. If a man wanted to send out gold to his people in the States, it had to go over this long trail across the wild regions. ”

“ Some men are said to wax valorous upon a full stomach, and such seemed to be the case with the Bannack braves, who, in proportion as they crammed themselves with buffalo meat, grew stout of heart, until, the supper at an end, they began to chant war songs, setting forth their mighty deeds, and the victories they had gained over the Blackfeet. ”

“ This notice to Plummer that a “silver lode” had been discovered, was the signal that the occasion demanded the presence of the chief of the gang, who was needed to head some marauding expedition that required a skillful leader, and promised a rich booty as the reward of success. Plummer always obeyed it, and in this instance, left Bannack a little while after noon, taking a [Pg 47] northerly direction, towards Rattlesnake; but, after getting out of town, he changed his course and went south, towards Horse Prairie. ”

“ Stuart for a fair example of the Bannack superstitions, from which not even Longfellow could glean any poetry or beauty. Among the caves in the rocks dwells a race of fairy imps, who, with arrow and quiver, kill game upon the mountains, and sing boisterous songs on the cliffs in summer evenings. Whenever an Indian mother leaves her infant, one of these pleasant cannibals devours it straightway, and takes its place, crying piteously. When the poor woman returns and seeks to pacify her child, the little usurper falls ravenously upon her. Fire-arms, knives, and stones are all powerless ”

“ Then, having said everything that could stir a man’s spleen or pique his valor, they would dare their imaginary hearers, now that the Bannacks were few in number, to come and take their revenge—receiving no reply to this valorous bravado, they would conclude by all kinds of sneers and insults, deriding the Blackfeet for dastards and poltroons, that dared not accept their challenge. ”

“ Banneker laughed. “Oh, Io! It’s such a relief to get a clear view and an honest one from some one else. There’s no one in the office except Russell Edmonds, and he’s away now.... You think McClintick is right? So do I.”
“But so are you. You had to do as you did about the story. If any one is to blame, it is Mr. Marrineal. Yet how can one blame him? He had to protect his mother. It’s a fearfully complicated phenomenon, a newspaper, isn’t it, Ban?”
“Io, the soul of man is simple and clear compared with the soul of a newspaper.” ”

“ But the wee bannock hopped round to the other side of the kirn, and the Goodwife after it. And she was in such a hurry that she nearly upset the kirn; and by the time that she had put it right again, the wee bannock was out at the door and half-way down the brae to the mill.
The miller was sifting meal in the trough, but he straightened himself up when he saw the little cake.
"It's a sign of plenty when bannocks are running about with no one to look after them," he said; "but I like bannocks and cheese, so just come in, and I will give thee a night's lodging." ”

“ Banneker sat silent so long that his host began: “Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked that—”
“I’m going to tell you exactly what occurred,” said Banneker quietly, and outlined the episode of the editorial, suppressing, however, Marrineal’s covert threat as to Io and The Searchlight. “And I haven’t resigned. So you see what manner of man I am,” he concluded defiantly.
“You mean a coward? I don’t think it.”
“I wish I were sure!” burst out Banneker.
“Ah? That’s hard, when the soul doesn’t know itself. Is it money?” The crisp, clear voice had softened to a great kindliness. ”

“ If Mother Meadows, now "granny," had ever had any doubts at all about the Scottish chief of the Hudson's Bay Company, the style and presence of that incomparable boy were proof enough. It was a marked case of "throwing-back." There was none of the Bannock here. Could he not be trusted like a man to do whatever things he liked to do; as riding to fetch the cows and driving them hillward again, on the weird little spotted pony, hardly bigger than a dog, with a huge head and a furry cheek and a hanging under-lip, which the tributary Bannocks had brought him? ”

“ Banneker must have admitted that to himself. Too much a man of the world in many strata not to be adjustable to any of them, nevertheless he felt more attuned to and at one with his environment amidst the suave formalism of Sherry’s than in the more uneasy and precarious elegancies of an East-Side Tammany Association promenade and ball.
Some of the youngsters of The Ledger said that he was climbing.
He was not climbing. To climb one must be conscious of an ascent to be surmounted. Banneker was serenely unaware of anything above him, in that sense. ”

“ Banneker was annoyed at himself for flushing. “They disseminate news. We’ve got to have news, to carry on the world. Only a small fraction of it is—well, malodorous. Would you destroy the whole system because of one flaw? You’re not fair.”
“Fair? Of course I’m not. How should I be? No; I would not destroy the system. Merely deodorize it a bit. But I suppose the public likes the odors. It sniffs ’em up like—like Cyrano in the bake-shop. A marvelous institution, the public which you and I serve. Have you ever thought of magazine work, Mr. Banneker?” ”

“ Banneker flushed angrily, though he said, coolly enough: “I think perhaps you would make an enterprising reporter, yourself, Miss Forbes.”
“I’m sure I should. Well, I’ll apologize. And if you won’t come for Io—she’s still abroad, by the way and won’t be back for a month—perhaps you’ll come for me. Just to show that you forgive my impertinences. Everybody does. I’m going to tell Bertie Cressey he must bring you.... All right, Bertie! I wish you wouldn’t follow me up like—like a paper-chase. Good-night, Mr. Banneker.” ”

“ Well, I’m off for the theater.”
Between acts, Banneker, walking out to get air, was conscious of being the object of comment and demonstration. He heard his name spoken in half whispers; saw nods and jerks of the head; was an involuntary eavesdropper upon a heated discussion; “That’s the man.”—“No; it ain’t. The paper says he’s a big feller.”—“This guy ain’t a reporter. Pipe his clothes.”—“Well, he’s big if you size him right. Look at his shoulders.”—“I’ll betcha ten he ain’t the man.” And an apologetic young fellow ran after him to ask if he was not, in truth, Mr. Banneker of The Ledger. ”

“ But it’s not a proper work for a gentleman. And, in any case, Ban, you are that, by the grace of your ancestral gods.
Little enough did Banneker care for his ancestral gods: but he did greatly care for the maintenance of those standards which seemed to have grown, indigenously within him, since he had never consciously formulated them. As for reporting, of whatever kind, he deemed Miss Van Arsdale prejudiced. Furthermore, he had met the society reporter of The Ledger, an elderly, mild, inoffensive man, neat and industrious, and discerned in him no stigma of the lickspittle. ”

“ I could stand anything except the charge that I’ve lost my naturalness and become conventional.”
“You’re like the man who could resist anything except temptation, my dear: you can stand anything except criticism,” returned Banneker with a smile so friendly that there was no sting in the words. “You’ve never had enough of that. You’re the spoiled pet of the critics.”
“Not of this new one of yours. He’s worse than Gurney. Who is he and where does he come from?”
“An inconsiderable hamlet known as Chicago. Name, Allan Haslett. ”

“ Sighting Banneker at luncheon a few days later, Horace Vanney went so far as to cross the room to greet and congratulate him.
“A master-stroke,” he said, pressing Banneker’s hand with his soft palm. “We’re glad to have you with us. Won’t you call me up and lunch with me soon?”
At The Retreat, after polo, that Saturday, the senior Masters met Banneker face to face in a hallway, and held him up.
“Politics is politics. Eh?” he grunted.
“It’s a great game,” returned the journalist. ”

“ The diagnosis of the satyr-like mathematician had been accurate. That same method whereby the tyrants of Rome had sought to beguile the restless and unthinking multitude, Banneker adopted to capture and lead the sensation-avid metropolitan public through his newspaper. As a facture, a creation made to the mind of the creator, The Patriot was Banneker’s own. True, Marrineal reserved full control. ”

“ Mrs. Bannockburn laughed. "I must say!" she exclaimed. "You to complain of things being done quickly! I've done all you told me," she continued. "Everything. I sent a notice to the Post Office about the telephone directory, telling them to alter the name. I sent to Kelly's about the London Directory. I told all the tradespeople. I got the cards. I even went further and ordered a few silver labels for your walking-sticks and umbrellas. I thought you would like that."
Mr. Bannockburn puffed at his cigar and said nothing. ”

“ It isn’t as sporty as all that.” He rose to shake hands with a short, angular young man, dressed to a perfection as accurate as Banneker’s own, and excelling him in one distinctive touch, a coat-flower of gold-and-white such as no other in New York could wear, since only in one conservatory was that special orchid successfully grown. By it Banneker recognized Poultney Masters, Jr., the son and heir of the tyrannous old financier who had for years bullied and browbeaten New York to his wayward old heart’s content. ”

“ But there is about a man, singly and selflessly intent upon his job in hand, an inner potency impossible to obstruct. Banneker recognized it; inwardly admitted, too, the unsoundness of the swift, protective rage rising within, himself.
“I don’t propose to make trouble for you or to have trouble with you,” said the reporter evenly. “But I’m going to Miss Van Arsdale’s unless I’m shot on the way there.”
“That’s all right,” returned the agent, mastering himself. “I beg your pardon for threatening you. But you’ll have to find your own way. Will you put up here for the night, again?” ”

“ Banneker, a little surprised and touched at the landlady’s reticence, explained.
“Ah, well,” commented Miss Westlake, “you would soon have outgrown us in any case.”
“I’m not so sure. Where one lives doesn’t so much matter. And I’m a creature of habit.”
“I think that you are going to be a very big man, Mr. Banneker.” ”

“ Like the golden sun that has sunk beneath the western horizon, but still throws upon the world, which he sustained and enlightened in his career, the reflect-ed beams of his departed genius, his name can only perish with his language.
Banneker believed in the divinity of reason, and in the omnipotence of the human understanding with Liberty for its handmaid. The intellect impregnated by science and multiplied by time, it appeared to him, must triumph necessarily over all the resistance of matter. ”

“ Banneker’s last sight of the wreck, as he paused at the curve, was the helpful young man perched on the rear heap of wreckage which had been the observation car, peering anxiously into its depths (“Looking for I. O. W. probably,” surmised the agent) , and two commercial gentlemen from the smoker whiling away a commercially unproductive hiatus by playing pinochle on a suitcase held across their knees. Glancing at the vast, swollen, blue-black billows rolling up the sky, Banneker guessed that their game would be shortly interrupted.
He hoped that the dead would not get wet. ”

“ Oh, my God!” whispered Banneker.
“And she cares. I know she cared when she was here. Io isn’t the kind of woman to forget easily. She tried once, you know.” Miss Van Arsdale smiled wanly. “Why doesn’t she ever say anything of you in her letters?”
“She does.”
“Very little.” (Io’s letters, passing through Banneker’s hands were carefully censored, of necessity, to forefend any allusion to the tragedy of Willis Enderby, often to the extent of being rewritten complete. It now occurred to Banneker that he had perhaps overdone the matter of keeping his own name out of them.) ”

“ For another, that you’ve got the broadest door to society open to you, if Junior follows up his hint about the yacht.”
“I haven’t the time,” returned Banneker with honest indifference. He sipped his coffee thoughtfully. “Cressey,” he said, “if I had a newspaper of my own in New York, do you know what I’d do with it?”
“Make money.”
“I hope so. But whether I did or not, I’d set out to puncture that bubble of the Masters power and supremacy. It isn’t right for any man to have that power just through money. It isn’t American.” ”