"STAY AT YOUR POST, LAD"
Relieved from his station at the Fort, Shock was able to devote himself entirely to the western part of his field, which embraced the Loon Lake district and extended twenty-five miles up to the Pass, and he threw himself with redoubled energy into his work of exploration and organisation.Long ago his little cayuse had been found quite unequal to the task of keeping pace with the tremendous energy of his driver, and so for the longer journeys Shock had come to depend mainly upon Bob, the great rangey sorrel sent him by the Hamilton boys, the only condition attached to the gift being that he should allow Bob to visit the ranch at least once a month.And so it came that Shock and his sorrel broncho became widely known over the ranges of all that country.Many a little shack in far away valleys, where a woman with her children lived in isolated seclusion from all the world, he discovered and brought into touch with the world about, and by means of books and magazines and illustrated papers brought to hearts sick with longing some of the colour and brightness from the great world beyond, so often fondly longed for.
Many a cowboy, wild and reckless, with every link of kin-ship broken, an unrelated unit of humanity keeping lonely watch over his bunch of cattle, found in Shock a friend, and established through him anew a bond with human society.The hour spent with Shock in riding around the cattle often brought to this bit of human driftwood a new respect for himself, a new sense of responsibility for life, and a new estimate of the worth of his manhood.Away up in the Pass, too, where the miners lived and wrought under conditions wretched, debasing, and fraught with danger, and where in the forest-camps the lumbermen lived lives more wholesome, but more lonely, Shock found scope for the full energy of his passion to help and serve.
"A hospital is what they need up here, doctor!" he exclaimed one day after they had made a tour through the shacks and bunks where men sick and injured lay in their uncared for misery."A hospital is what they want, and some kind of a homelike place where they can meet together.And by God's help we'll get this, too, when our hands are somewhat free.We have all we can do for the next few weeks."And so they had.
Shock had early recognised that the evils which were so rampant, and that exercised such a baneful influence in the community, were due not so much to any inherent love of vice as to the conditions under which the men were forced to live.Life was a lonely thing on the ranges, without colour, without variety, and men plunged into debauchery from sheer desperate reaction from monotony.Shock believed that, if there could be established a social centre offering intellectual interest and physical recreation, much could be done to banish the vices that were fast becoming imbedded in the very life and character of the people.And so he planned the erection of a building that would serve for church, manse, club-house, schoolroom, and library, and would thus become a spot around which the life of the community might gather in a clean and wholesome atmosphere.He appealed to the Church Manse Building Fund for a grant, he drew his plans for his building, and throughout the summer quietly set about gathering his materials.One and another of his friends he would persuade to haul a load of logs from the hills, and with good-natured persistence he would get a day's work now and again from the young fellows who frequently had more time on their hands than they knew how to reasonably make use of, with the result that before they were well aware of what was being done a log building stood ready for the roofing and plaster.His success stimulated his friends to more organised and continued effort.They began to vie with each other in making contributions of work and material for the new building.Macnamara furnished lime, Martin drew sand, Sinclair and The Kid, who had the best horses and wagons, drew lumber from the mill at the Fort; and by the time summer was gone the building, roofed, chinked, and plastered, only required a few finishing touches to be ready for the opening.Indeed, it was a most creditable structure.It was a large, roomy, two-story building, the downstairs of which was given up to a room to be devoted to public uses.The upstairs Shock planned to contain four bed-rooms.
"What do you want of four bed-rooms, Mr.Prospector?" said Ike, as they were laying out the space."You can't sleep in more'n three of 'em at a time.""No, but you can sleep in one, Ike, and some of the boys in another, and I want one myself.""Oh!" said Ike, much pleased."Going to run a kind of stoppin'
place, are you?"
"Yes; I hope my friends will stop with me often.""Guess you won't have much trouble with that side of it," said Ike.
"And this here room," he continued, "will do first rate for a kind of lumber-room, provisions, and harness, and such like, I guess?""No," said Shock."This room will be the finest room in the house.
See: it will look away out toward the south and west, over the lake, and up to the mountains.The inside of the room won't be hard to beat, but the outside cannot be equalled in all the world, and Itell you what, Ike, it cannot be too good, for this room is for my mother." There was a reverent, tender tone in Shock's voice that touched Ike.
"Is she really goin' to come out here?" he asked.
"I hope so," said Shock."Next spring."
"I say," said Ike, "won't she find it lonely?""I don't think so," said Shock, with a curious smile."You know, my mother is rather peculiar.For twenty-five years, without missing a single night, she came into my room to kiss me before I went to sleep, and she's just that foolish that if I'm anywhere around Idon't think she'll be lonely." And then Shock proceeded to give Ike a picture of his mother, and all her devotion to him through the long years of his life.The rough but tender-hearted cowboy was more touched than he cared to show.
