Our story today is called, "The Luck of Roaring Camp." It was written by Bret Harte. Here is Harry Monroe with our story.
Roaring
Camp was the noisiest gold mining town in California. More than
one-hundred men from every part of the United States had come to that
little camp – stopping there for a short time on their way to getting
rich.
Many of these gold miners were criminals. All of them were
violent. They filled the peaceful mountain air with shouting and gun
shots. The noise of their continual fighting finally gave the camp its
strange name.
On a sunny morning in eighteen fifty, however, the
men of Roaring Camp were quiet. A crowd was gathered in front of a
small wooden house by the river. Inside that cabin was "Cherokee Sal,"
the only woman in camp. She was all alone and in terrible pain.
Cherokee Sal was having a baby.
Deaths were not unusual in Roaring Camp. But a birth was big news.
One
of the men turned to another and ordered: "Go in there, Stumpy, and see
what you can do." Stumpy opened the cabin door, and disappeared
inside. The rest of the men built a campfire outside and gathered
around it to wait.
Suddenly, a sharp cry broke the air…the cry of a
new-born baby. All the men jumped to their feet as Stumpy appeared at
the cabin door. Cherokee Sal was dead. But her baby, a boy, was alive.
The
men formed a long line. One by one they entered the tiny cabin. On
the bed, under a blanket, they could see the body of the unlucky
mother. On a pine table, near that bed, was a small wooden box. Inside
lay Roaring Camps newest citizen, wrapped in a piece of bright red
cloth.
Someone had put a large hat near the babys box. And as the
men slowly marched past, they dropped gifts into the hat. A gold
tobacco box. A silver gun. A diamond ring. A lace handkerchief. And
about two hundred dollars in gold and silver.
Only one incident
broke the flow of the men through the cabin. As a gambler named
Kentucky leaned over the box, the baby reached up and held one of the
mans fingers. Kentucky looked embarrassed.
"That funny little
fellow," he said, as he gently pulled his hand out of the box. He held
up his finger and stared at it. "He grabbed my finger," he told the
men. "That funny little fellow."
The next morning, the men of
Roaring Camp buried Cherokee Sal. Afterwards, they held a formal
meeting to discuss what to do with the baby. Everyone in the camp voted
to keep the child. But nobody could agree on the best way to take care
of it.
Tom Ryder suggested bringing a woman into the camp to care
for the baby. But the men believed no good woman would accept Roaring
Camp as her home. And they decided that they didnt want any more of the
other kind.
Stumpy didnt say a word during these long
discussions. But when the others finally asked his opinion, he admitted
that he wanted to continue taking care of the baby himself. He had
been feeding it milk from a donkey, and he believed he could raise the
baby just fine.
There was something original, independent, even
heroic about Stumpys plan that pleased the men of Roaring Camp. Stumpy
was hired.
All the men gave him some gold to send for baby things from the city of Sacramento. They wanted the best that money could buy.
By
the time the baby was a month old, the men decided he needed a name.
All of them had noticed that since the babys birth, they were finding
more gold than ever before. One day Oakhurst declared that the baby had
brought "The Luck" to Roaring Camp. So "Luck" was the name they chose
for him, adding before it, the first name "Tommy."
A name day was
set for him. The ceremony was held under the pine trees with Stumpy
saying the simple works: "I proclaim you Thomas Luck, according to the
laws of the United States and the state of California, so help me God."
Soon
after the ceremony, Roaring Camp began to change. The first
improvements were made in the cabin of Tommy or "The Luck" as he was
usually called. The men painted it white, planted flowers around it and
kept it clean.
Tuttles store, where the men used to meet to talk
and play cards, also changed. The owner imported a carpet and some
mirrors. The men – seeing themselves in Tuttles mirrors – began to take
more care about their hair, beards and clothing.
Stumpy made a
new law for the camp. Anyone who wanted the honor of holding The Luck
would have to wash daily. Kentuck appeared at the cabin every afternoon
in a clean shirt, his face still shining from the washing hed given it.
The
shouting and yelling that had given the camp its name also stopped.
Tommy needed his sleep, and the men walked around speaking in whispers.
Instead of angry shouts, the music of gentle songs filled the air.
Strange new feelings of peace and happiness came into the hearts of the
miners of Roaring Camp.
During those long summer days, The Luck
was carried up the mountain to the place where the men were digging for
gold. He would lie on a soft blanket decorated with wild flowers the
men would bring.
Nature was his nurse and playmate. Birds flew
around his blanket. And little animals would play nearby. Golden
sunshine and soft breezes would stroke him to sleep.
During that
golden summer The Luck was with them, the men of Roaring Camp all became
rich. With the gold they found in the mountains came a desire for
further improvement. The men voted to build a hotel the following
spring. They hoped some good families with children would come to live
in Roaring Camp.
But some of the men were against this plan. They hoped something would happen to prevent it. And something did.
The
following winter, the winter of eighteen fifty-one, is still remembered
for the heavy snows in the mountains. When the snow melted that
spring, every stream became an angry river that raced down the mountains
tearing up trees and bringing destruction.
One of those terrible
streams was the North Fork River. Late one night, it leaped over its
banks and raced into the valley of Roaring Camp.
The sleeping men
had no chance to escape the rushing water, the crashing trees and the
darkness. When morning came, Stumpys cabin near the river was gone.
Further down in the valley they found the body of its unlucky owner.
But the pride, the hope, the joy, The Luck of Roaring Camp had disappeared.
Suddenly,
a boat appeared from around a bend in the river. The men in it said
they had picked up a man and a baby. Did anyone know them? Did they
belong here?
Lying on the bottom of the rescue boat was Kentuck.
He was seriously injured, but still holding The Luck of Roaring Camp in
his arms. As they bent over the two, the men saw the child was pale and
cold.
"Hes dead," said one of them.
Kentuck opened his eyes. "Dead?" he whispered. "Yes, Kentuck. And you are dying, too."
Kentuck smiled. "Dying!" he repeated. "He is taking me with him. Tell the boys Ive got The Luck with me."
And the strong man, still holding the small child, drifted away on the shadowy river that flows forever to the unknown sea.
You
have just heard "The Luck of Roaring Camp," a story by Bret Harte. It
was adapted for Special English by Dona De Sanctis. Your storyteller
was Harry Monroe.

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