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The Bluemud mansion at Granite Gorge was half way between the mine and the village. It
stood on an arm extending from the western valley side which formed a broken scarp an
hundred and fifty feet above the river. The house had two stories, white wooden siding, a
gray gabled roof with two chimney stacks of the pink valley stone and a flag pole from
which, when Bluemud was in residence, he flew the Stars and Stripes. A porch ran the
length of the northern side of the house which faced the driveway while on the east,
abutting the dining room a small covered deck, raised on stilts above the sloping lawn,
looked over a narrow strip of woodland lining the cliff top below which ran the road up the
valley. The lawn continued round the back and was reached from the kitchen via a
conservatory. Inside the house three bedrooms and a bathroom constituted the upstairs
while downstairs was divided by a central passageway with stairs up and down leading off
at right angles. On the eastern side, besides the dining room, were a small work room and
the kitchen at the back while on the western side was the living room and Bluemud's study
in the northwest corner. All the rooms had fireplaces adapted by Bluemud for burning coal
although there was a coal-fired central heating system in the basement and the kitchen
had a huge iron, coal-fired stove. | A sunny day in mid-October found Elizabeth Bluemud sitting on the deck outside the dining room in an old rocking chair which had been in the family as long as anyone could remember. Her hair was up, she wore a white blouse and her long dark skirt clung to her legs crossed beneath it and she was sewing as she rocked gently but compulsively: a sign of discontentment on her part. Elizabeth had seen little of her father in recent weeks as he had been off recruiting more workers. Just last night he had returned with the news that six hundred more people from a town called Lettuce were on their way. Bluemud had been jubilant. He had achieved little recruiting success in the months since the Dentonsville people arrived and his aim of having a full complement of workers in the valley had seemed a distant one. But, even now he was in his study discussing the arrangements for the new arrivals with O'Grady. This was not welcome news to Elizabeth, however. Even the current complement of people in the valley strained the ability of the village to support them. Despite the passage of the summer months and relatively good crops the stores built up before the arrival of the Dentonsville people had steadily declined. In September she had informed her father of this fact and suggested that he should delay recruiting any more until next year. Her suggestion had been ignored. At eleven fifteen O'Grady left Bluemud's study, the front door slammed and Elizabeth heard the Chief Foreman's footsteps as he departed along the graveled driveway. Then Bluemud came through the dining room onto the deck. He kissed Elizabeth's forehead and slumped into a wicker chair, putting his feet up on the rail. 'Is everything all right, father? How soon will they get here?' 'Tomorrow. They reached the spur yesterday. There should be no problems until they arrive. They're a strange lot, though. Albinos. White hair and pink eyes every one of them. Talk about inbreeding! We'll have to be very careful how we allocate them. Still, they're strong as oxes, the men. Huge fellows! And I had no trouble persuading them to come. I think they were keeping them segregated because they're a little short tempered.' He took out a cigar and began searching his pockets for a light. 'There's not going to be much room left in the barracks, though. They'll bring us to an hundred percent of strength. Well, we can manage that!' Elizabeth fetched Bluemud's lighter from the dining room and lit his cigar for him. 'Was everything alright last night? I asked Mrs. Potts to tidy up your room a little. I hope she didn't disturb anything important.' 'Fine. Fine.' Bluemud stared across the valley, puffing on his cigar. Elizabeth sat down again and once more took up her sewing. She said, 'You know father, it's going to be very difficult to feed all these people.' 'Yes. O'Grady says the miners are already complaining about the food. There's not enough of it and it's always the same. Can't you do anything about that, Elizabeth?' 'What do you want me to do? You know what the problems are!' 'That was the idea of your studying agriculture,' Bluemud said irritably. 'So you'd know how to run things and I wouldn't have to do everything.' 'Learning about agriculture doesn't do you much good if you don't have the tools,' she snapped. 'That's the trouble with the stuff they teach you at that school. All this nonsense about machines! Where are we going to get machines from? You need some lessons in how to handle a gang of women.' Bluemud's eyes accused her: if only you had been a boy, things would be different. 'Father! I told you in September, there's not enough land cleared for planting. I need some men to do the clearing work.' 'And as I told you, I won't have the men mixing with those women until I'm sure they know the rules. You know what'll happen. All those Dentonsville people will take their old husbands and wives back and they'll stay just as inbred as they've ever been, along with all the rest. I won't have a crop of low grade second-generation kids!' 'There's no need to shout, father,' Elizabeth said unhappily. 'I think we can manage. I don't think it'll get much worse. The rest of the harvest will be good and, after all, we will have more women now as well. I'll tell Muriel to set them to clearing and planting right away. I can't see things getting very bad unless we have a terrible winter.' 'And supposing the winter IS bad?' Bluemud frowned and suddenly seemed very gloomy. Elizabeth felt that he was distressed because she was right and he had upset her. She felt that he blamed her unjustly. Fundamentally she was as competent and as strong as he was. She became aware that she was rocking exceptionally fast and stopped abruptly. Suddenly Bluemud dismissed everything. 'Anyway, things probably aren't as bad as O'Grady makes out. That man complains all the time. He can't even get the men to take a wash, you know. After all the work I put into it that barracks is a pigsty. I think it's about time I gave the men another talk. It's a good occasion with the new arrivals. Motivate them. Give them a bit of philosophy. Background. They won't understand, of course, but it'll do me good. And I want you,' he leaned across and patted her arm, ' to talk to them about the food. Reassure them. Tell them we're doing the best we can.' Giving speeches was something Bluemud thoroughly enjoyed though Elizabeth could not imagine anything more dreadful. This, however, was a moment when she must not protest. Bluemud sat back cheerfully in his chair. 'Put some music on for me, dear. The Beethoven opus 131.' Elizabeth complied and for an hour the sound filled the porch as if the quartet were suspended in the air above the gorge. While it lasted only the music marked the flow of time. 'There was a man who never gave in,' said Bluemud. |
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