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Text originally published in 1946 under the same title.
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Publishers Note
Although in most cases we have retained the Authors original spelling and grammar to authentically reproduce the work of the Author and the original intent of such material, some additional notes and clarifications have been added for the modern readers benefit.
We have also made every effort to include all maps and illustrations of the original edition the limitations of formatting do not allow of including larger maps, we will upload as many of these maps as possible.
LONG STORM
by
ERNEST HAYCOX
IN THE CIVIL WAR
the Copperheads almost took over the state of Oregon. Big Adam Musick, river-boat pilot, went out to stop them.
He caught Ringrose, the Copperhead leader, holed up in a dark warehouse beside the flooding river.
I came to get you, Ringrose, Musick said.
God damn you! Ringrose shouted. The floor jumped as his gun went off, and Musick felt the heat of the bullet. Then he tackled Ringrose around the knees and they went crashing together down the flimsy stairway into the waist-deep water.
Musick was on top of his enemy, choking him, holding him under to drown. Ringrose was everything he hated. Then he remembered. This wasnt just his fight. This was his countrys war and Ringrose should hang for a traitor, not die by one mans hand.
LONG STORMHAYCOX AT HIS BEST! The New York Times
1
The Raw southwesterbearing up the spongy odors of springcame hard against Lily Barnes when she stepped from the house, plucking at the falls of her dark hair and winding her coat about her in sudden twists. The nights violent rain had stopped but sullen clouds rolled overhead like great sea breakers, whipped into ragged valleys and peaks by the upper airs storm. At middle afternoon there was little light in the day; house lamps were shining down Pine as she walked toward Front, and the town crouched in semidarkness and mist packed the timbered hills westward.
Front was a yellow muddy creek from the bend of A Street southward to Jefferson, bordered by shops and countinghouses and saloons and hotels crouched side by side, brick and wood and false front and board awnings tightly crowded together. Along Front at this hour was a crowded commerce of men and pack rigs and weary-bowed riders and great freight drays sallowly illumined by the streets gas lamps. It was spring once more; it was the beginning of another season of mining fever and on this day the steamer Brother Jonathan , seventy hours out of San Francisco, had arrived with its cargo and its thousand prospectorsand each week until fall came, another thousand people would arrive, by the Brother Jonathan or the Panama . Already there was a queue in front of the Steam Navigation Companys office, the arrived gold seekers anxious to book passage upriver to the Eastern Oregon and Idaho mines by way of the Carrie or the Julia . This day Portland town woke from its winter quiet and Marshal Lappeus would once again well earn his pay even though he, the possessor of one of the towns fifty-five saloons, had a tolerant eye.
Lily made her way across the uneasy intersection plank, noticing men step into her fathers store, they being attracted by the sign he had put up:
WEBLEY BARNES
Hardware
Tin Goods
Miners Supplies
Agent for the
DAISY McGOVERN
Fastest boat upriverand only
independent boat
TICKETS
HERE
She moved along the west side of Front, on through the little pools of odors thrown out by the adjacent shops, liquor, leather and bread, Dekums confectioneries, the dry faint fragrance of Julius Kohns cotton goods. At Oak there was a dense jam of drays locked hub to hub and the usual brawling of teamsters. Mr. Gorman, wearing his habitually cool expression, saluted her with his stovepipe as he passed by; at the corner of Stark she turned half a block up to read that the Willamette Theater offered Mr. and Mrs, Popes Troupe in The Lady of Lyons, with Professor Sedlicks local pupils furnishing the orchestra. She turned the corner of the Pioneer Hotel and stepped into Burgduffs for a steelhead.
Mrs. Burgduff, a bulky woman made bulkier by various layers of sweaters, cleaned and wrapped the fish. Mrs. Burgduff had a pink, smooth face pressed square by her unchangeable, acquisitive thoughts.
How many boarders you got now, Lily?
One.
You could squeeze six into that house somehow.
Six would be uncomfortable.
Think of comfort later. Get the money now. When the gold rush has gone, Portland will be dead. The fish is twelve poundsdollar twenty.
Lily continued her round of shopping, crossing the intersection plank again to the City Bakery, to the Empire Market, to Failings. She stopped a moment at the Oregonian office to read the latest announcements, by wire to San Francisco and by boat to Portland, and retraced her homeward route without haste, rather glad to see so many people livening Portland, A boat whistled for landing, the tone of the whistle identifying the Claire in from Oregon City. At Washington she paused in front of Dennisons Opera House: Minstrelsy, Burlesque, Extravaganzas, Ethiopian Eccentricities. Nothing done to offend the most sensitive taste. Honi soit qui mal y pense . Parquette 50 cents. Orchestra Chairs $1. Private Boxes $3. John Green, coming by, found her thus interested.
Lily, he said and plunged his hands into his front pockets, you show a wicked curiosity.
Very lively music comes from this place. Whats an Ethiopian Eccentricity?
Something for miners, male citizens and assorted characters. It would be more proper of you to see Mrs. Pope.
I dont like lavender sentiment, said Lily. The wind ruffled the edges of her hair and a smile made its small break along her lips. Mr. Greens glance remained on those lips. Dennisons music is so brisk, she added. I shouldnt mind being an assorted character for one evening.
Well, said Mr. Green, too bad you cant see it. Then he added with a wry humor, I enjoyed the show myself, and passed on.
A group of young men paused near her, seedy and callow Eastern city boys off the Brother Jonathan , and their remarks became audible to her. She moved on over the intersection of Oak and looked out upon the river to observe the steam ferry bring spray above its bow. Dekums confectionery again blew its sweet breath on her and she halted with some indecision in her, and at that moment Edith Thorpe came out of Dekums with Helen Bidwell.
Edith stopped and by the pressure of her hand drew in Helen Bidwell who meant to go on. Why, Lily, said Edith in a voice which ran lightly up and down the scale of correct surprise. I do believe its been a mouth since Ive seen you. Have you been away?
