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diff --git a/23632-h/23632-h.htm b/23632-h/23632-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9ac70e0 --- /dev/null +++ b/23632-h/23632-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2173 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Way Down in Lonesome Cove, by Charles Egbert Craddock + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of 'way Down In Lonesome Cove, by +Charles Egbert Craddock (AKA Mary Noailles Murfree) + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: 'way Down In Lonesome Cove + 1895 + +Author: Charles Egbert Craddock (AKA Mary Noailles Murfree) + +Illustrator: A. B. Frost + +Release Date: November 26, 2007 [EBook #23632] +Last Updated: March 8, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'WAY DOWN IN LONESOME COVE *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + 'WAY DOWN IN LONESOME COVE + </h1> + <h2> + By Charles Egbert Craddock <br /><br /> 1895 + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + One memorable night in Lonesome Cove the ranger of the county entered upon + a momentous crisis in his life. What hour it was he could hardly have + said, for the primitive household reckoned time by the sun when it shone, + by the domestic routine when no better might be. It was late. The old + crone in the chimney-corner nodded over her knitting. In the trundle-bed + at the farther end of the shadowy room were transverse billows under the + quilts, which intimated that the small children were numerous enough for + the necessity of sleeping crosswise. He had smoked out many pipes, and at + last knocked the cinder from the bowl. The great hickory logs had burned + asunder and fallen from the stones that served as andirons. He began to + slowly cover the embers with ashes, that the fire might keep till morning. + </p> + <p> + His wife, a faded woman, grown early old, was bringing the stone jar of + yeast to place close by the hearth, that it might not “take a chill” in + some sudden change of the night. It was heavy, and she bent in carrying + it. Awkward, and perhaps nervous, she brought it sharply against the + shovel in his hands. + </p> + <p> + The clash roused the old crone in the corner. + </p> + <p> + She recognized the situation instantly, and the features that sleep had + relaxed into inexpressiveness took on a weary apprehension, which they + wore like a habit. The man barely raised his surly black eyes, but his + wife drew back humbly with a mutter of apology. + </p> + <p> + The next moment the shovel was almost thrust out of his grasp. A tiny + barefooted girl, in a straight unbleached cotten night-gown and a quaint + little cotton night-cap, cavalierly pushed him aside, that she might cover + in the hot ashes a burly sweet-potato, destined to slowly roast by + morning. A long and careful job she made of it, and unconcernedly kept him + waiting while she pottered back and forth about the hearth. She looked up + once with an authoritative eye, and he hastily helped to adjust the potato + with the end of the shovel. And then he glanced at her, incongruously + enough, as if waiting for her autocratic nod of approval. She gravely + accorded it, and pattered nimbly across the puncheon floor to the bed. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” he drawled, in gruff accents, “ef you-uns hev all had yer fill o' + foolin' with this hyar fire, I'll kiver it, like I hev started out ter + do.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment there was a loud trampling upon the porch without. The + batten door shook violently. The ranger sprang up. As he frowned the hair + on his scalp, drawn forward, seemed to rise like bristles. + </p> + <p> + “Dad-burn that thar fresky filly!” he cried, angrily. “Jes' brung her + noisy bones up on that thar porch agin, an' her huffs will bust spang + through the planks o' the floor the fust thing ye know.” + </p> + <p> + The narrow aperture, as he held the door ajar, showed outlined against the + darkness the graceful head of a young mare, and once more hoof-beats + resounded on the rotten planks of the porch. + </p> + <p> + Clouds were adrift in the sky. No star gleamed in the wide space high + above the sombre mountains. On every side they encompassed Lonesome Cove, + which seemed to have importunately thrust itself into the darkling + solemnities of their intimacy. + </p> + <p> + All at once the ranger let the door fly from his hand, and stood gazing in + blank amazement. For there was a strange motion in the void vastnesses of + the wilderness. They were creeping into view. How, he could not say, but + the summit of the great mountain opposite was marvellously distinct + against the sky. He saw the naked, gaunt, December woods. He saw the grim, + gray crags. And yet Lonesome Cove below and the spurs on the other side + were all benighted. A pale, flickering light was dawning in the clouds; it + brightened, faded, glowed again, and their sad, gray folds assumed a vivid + vermilion reflection, for there was a fire in the forest below. Only these + reactions of color on the clouds betokened its presence and its progress. + Sometimes a fluctuation of orange crossed them, then a glancing line of + blue, and once more that living red hue which only a pulsating flame can + bestow. + </p> + <p> + “Air it the comin' o' the Jedgmint Day, Tobe?” asked his wife, in a meek + whisper. + </p> + <p> + “I'd be afraid so if I war ez big a sinner ez you-uns,” he returned. + </p> + <p> + “The woods air afire,” the old woman declared, in a shrill voice. + </p> + <p> + “They be a-soakin' with las' night's rain,” he retorted, gruffly. + </p> + <p> + The mare was standing near the porch. Suddenly he mounted her and rode + hastily off, without a word of his intention to the staring women in the + doorway. + </p> + <p> + He left freedom of speech behind him. “Take yer bones along, then, ye + tongue-tied catamount!” his wife's mother apostrophized him, with all the + acrimony of long repression. “Got no mo' politeness 'n a settin' hen,” she + muttered, as she turned back into the room. + </p> + <p> + The young woman lingered wistfully. “I wisht he wouldn't go a-ridin' off + that thar way 'thout lettin' we-uns know whar he air bound fur, an' when + he'll kern back. He mought git hurt some ways roun' that thar fire—git + overtook by it, mebbe.” + </p> + <p> + “Ef he war roasted 'twould be mighty peaceful round in Lonesome,” the old + crone exclaimed, rancorously. + </p> + <p> + Her daughter stood for a moment with the bar of the door in her hand, + still gazing out at the flare in the sky. The unwonted emotion had + conjured a change in the stereotyped patience in her face—even + anxiety, even the acuteness of fear, seemed a less pathetic expression + than that meek monotony bespeaking a broken spirit. As she lifted her eyes + to the mountain one might wonder to see that they were so blue. In the + many haggard lines drawn upon her face the effect of the straight + lineaments was lost; but just now, embellished with a flush, she looked + young—as young as her years. + </p> + <p> + As she buttoned the door and put up the bar her mother's attention was + caught by the change. Peering at her critically, and shading her eyes with + her hand from the uncertain flicker of the tallow dip, she broke out, + passionately: “Wa'al, 'Genie, who would ever hev thought ez yer cake would + be <i>all</i> dough? Sech a laffin', plump, spry gal ez ye useter be—fur + all the wort' like a fresky young deer! An' sech a pack o' men ez ye hed + the choice amongst! An' ter pick out Tobe Gryce an' marry him, an' kem + 'way down hyar ter live along o' him in Lonesome Cove!” + </p> + <p> + She chuckled aloud, not that she relished her mirth, but the harlequinade + of fate constrained a laugh for its antics. The words recalled the past to + Eugenia; it rose visibly before her. She had had scant leisure to reflect + that her life might have been ordered differently. In her widening eyes + were new depths, a vague terror, a wild speculation, all struck aghast by + its own temerity. + </p> + <p> + “Ye never said nuthin ter hender,” she faltered. + </p> + <p> + “I never knowed Tobe, sca'cely. How's enny-body goin' ter know a man ez + lived 'way off down hyar in Lonesome Cove?” her mother retorted, acridly, + on the defensive. “He never courted <i>me</i>, nohows. All the word he gin + me war, 'Howdy,' an' I gin him no less.” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause. + </p> + <p> + Eugenia knelt on the hearth. She placed together the broken chunks, and + fanned the flames with a turkey wing. “I won't kiver the fire yit,” she + said, thoughtfully. “He mought be chilled when he gits home.” + </p> + <p> + The feathery flakes of the ashes flew; they caught here and there in her + brown hair. The blaze flared up, and flickered over her flushed, pensive + face, and glowed in her large and brilliant eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Tobe said 'Howdy,'” her mother bickered on. “I knowed by that ez he hed + the gift o' speech, but he spent no mo' words on me.” Then, suddenly, with + a change of tone: “I war a fool, though, ter gin my cornsent ter yer + marryin' him, bein' ez ye war the only child I hed, an' I knowed I'd hev + ter live with ye 'way down hyar in Lonesome Cove. I wish now ez ye hed + abided by yer fust choice, an' married Luke Todd.” + </p> + <p> + Eugenia looked up with a gathering frown. “I hev no call ter spen' words + 'bout Luke Todd,” she said, with dignity, “ez me an' him are both married + ter other folks.” + </p> + <p> + “I never said ye hed,” hastily replied the old woman, rebuked and + embarrassed. Presently, however, her vagrant speculation went recklessly + on. “Though ez ter Luke's marryin', 'tain't wuth while ter set store on + sech. The gal he found over thar in Big Fox Valley favors ye ez close ez + two black-eyed peas. That's why he married her. She looks precisely like + ye useter look. An' she laffs the same. An' I reckon <i>she</i> 'ain't hed + no call ter quit laffin', 'kase he air a powerful easy-goin' man. + Leastways, he useter be when we-uns knowed him.” + </p> + <p> + “That ain't no sign,” said Eugenia. “A saafter-spoken body I never seen + than Tobe war when he fust kem a-courtin' round the settlemint.” + </p> + <p> + “Sech ez that ain't goin' ter las' noways,” dryly remarked the philosopher + of the chimney-corner. + </p> + <p> + This might seem rather a reflection upon the courting gentry in general + than a personal observation. But Eugenia's consciousness lent it point. + </p> + <p> + “Laws-a-massy,” she said, “Tobe ain't so rampa-gious, nohows, ez folks + make him out. He air toler'ble peaceable, cornsiderin' ez nobody hev ever + hed grit enough ter make a stand agin him, 'thout 'twar the Cunnel thar.” + </p> + <p> + She glanced around at the little girl's face framed in the frill of her + night-cap, and peaceful and infantile as it lay on the pillow. + </p> + <p> + “Whenst the Cunnel war born,” Eugenia went on, languidly reminiscent, + “Tobe war powerful outed 'kase she war a gal. I reckon ye 'members ez how + he said he hed no use for sech cattle ez that. An' when she tuk sick he + 'lowed he seen no differ. 'Jes ez well die ez live,' he said. An' bein' + ailin', the Cunnel tuk it inter her head ter holler. Sech holler-in' + we-uns hed never hearn with none o' the t'other chil'ren. The boys war + nowhar. But a-fust it never 'sturbed Tobe. He jes spoke out same ez he + useter do at the t'others, 'Shet up, ye pop-eyed buzzard!' Wa'al, sir, the + Cunnel jes blinked at him, an' braced herself ez stiff, an' <i>yelled!</i> + I 'lowed 'twould take off the roof. An' Tobe said he'd wring her neck ef + she warn't so mewlin'-lookin' an' peaked. An' he tuk her up an' walked + across the floor with her, an' she shet up; an' he walked back agin, an' + she stayed shet up. Ef he sot down fur a mi nit, she yelled so ez ye'd + think ye'd be deef fur life, an' ye 'most hoped ye would be. So Tobe war + obleeged ter tote her agin ter git shet o' the noise. He got started on + that thar 'forced march,' ez he calls it, an' he never could git off'n it. + Trot he must when the Cunnel pleased. He 'lowed she reminded him o' that + thar old Cunnel that he sarved under in the wars. Ef it killed the + regiment, he got thar on time. Sence then the Cunnel jes gins Tobe her + orders, an' he moseys ter do 'em quick, jes like he war obleeged ter obey. + I b'lieve he air, somehows.” + </p> + <p> + “Wa'al, some day,” said the disaffected old woman, assuming a port of + prophetic wisdom, “Tobe will find a differ. Thar ain't no man so headin' + ez don't git treated with perslimness by somebody some time. I knowed a + man wunst ez owned fower horses an' cattle-critters quarryspondin', an' he + couldn't prove ez he war too old ter be summonsed ter work on the road, + an' war fined by the overseer 'cordin' ter law. Tobe will git his wheel + scotched yit, sure ez ye air born. Somebody besides the Cunnel will skeer + up grit enough ter make a stand agin him. I dunno how other men kin sleep + o' night, knowin' how he be always darin' folks ter differ with him, an' + how brigaty he be. The Bible 'pears ter me ter hev Tobe in special mind + when it gits, ter mournin' 'bout'n the stiff-necked ones.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + The spirited young mare that the ranger rode strove to assert herself + against him now and then, as she went at a breakneck speed along the sandy + bridle-path through the woods. How was she to know that the white-wanded + young willow by the way-side was not some spiritual manifestation as it + suddenly materialized in a broken beam from a rift in the clouds? But as + she reared and plunged she felt his heavy hand and his heavy heel, and so + forward again at a steady pace. The forests served to screen the strange + light in the sky, and the lonely road was dark, save where the moonbeam + was splintered and the mists loitered. + </p> + <p> + Presently there were cinders flying in the breeze, a smell of smoke + pervaded the air, and the ranger forgot to curse the mare when she + stumbled. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder,” he muttered, “what them no 'count half-livers o' town folks + hev hed the shiftlessness ter let ketch afire thar!” + </p> + <p> + As he neared the brink of the mountain he saw a dense column of smoke + against the sky, and a break in the woods showed the little town—the + few log houses, the “gyarden spots” about them, and in the centre of the + Square a great mass of coals, a flame flickering here and there, and two + gaunt and tottering chimneys where once the court-house had stood. At some + distance—for the heat was still intense—were grouped the + slouching, spiritless figures of the mountaineers. On the porches of the + houses, plainly visible in the unwonted red glow, were knots of women and + children—ever and anon a brat in the scantiest of raiment ran nimbly + in and out. The clouds still borrowed the light from below, and the + solemn, leafless woods on one side were outlined distinctly against the + reflection in the sky. The flare showed, too, the abrupt precipice on the + other side, the abysmal gloom of the valley, the austere summit-line of + the mountain beyond, and gave the dark mysteries of the night a sombre + revelation, as in visible blackness it filled the illimitable space. + </p> + <p> + The little mare was badly blown as the ranger sprang to the ground. He + himself was panting with amazement and eagerness. + </p> + <p> + “The stray-book!” he cried. “Whar's the stray-book?” + </p> + <p> + One by one the slow group turned, all looking at him with a peering + expression as he loomed distorted through the shimmer of the heat above + the bed of live coals and the hovering smoke. + </p> + <p> + “Whar's the stray-book?” he reiterated, imperiously. + </p> + <p> + “Whar's the court-house, I reckon ye mean to say,” replied the sheriff—a + burly mountaineer in brown jeans and high boots, on which the spurs + jingled; for in his excitement he had put them on as mechanically as his + clothes, as if they were an essential part of his attire. + </p> + <p> + “Naw, I <i>ain't</i> meanin' ter say whar's the courthouse,” said the + ranger, coming up close, with the red glow of the fire on his face, and + his eyes flashing under the broad brim of his wool hat. He had a + threatening aspect, and his elongated shadow, following him and repeating + the menace of his attitude, seemed to back him up. “Ye air sech a + triflin', slack-twisted tribe hyar in town, ez ennybody would know ef a + spark cotched fire ter suthin, ye'd set an' suck yer paws, an' eye it till + it bodaciously burnt up the court-house—sech a dad-burned lazy set + o' half-livers ye be! I never axed 'bout'n the court-house. I want ter + know whar's that thar stray-book,” he concluded, inconsequently. + </p> + <p> + “Tobe Gryce, ye air fairly demented,” exclaimed the register—a + chin-whiskered, grizzled old fellow, sitting on a stump and hugging his + knee with a desolate, bereaved look—“talkin' 'bout the <i>stray-book</i>, + an' all the records gone! What will folks do 'bout thar deeds, an' + mortgages, an' sech? An' that thar keerful index ez I had made—ez + straight ez a string—all cinders!” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head, mourning alike for the party of the first part and the + party of the second part, and the vestiges of all that they had agreed + together. + </p> + <p> + “An' ye ter kem mopin' hyar this time o' night arter the <i>stray-book!</i>” + said the sheriff. “Shucks!” And he turned aside and spat disdainfully on + the ground. + </p> + <p> + “I want that thar stray-book!” cried Gryce, indignantly. “Ain't nobody + seen it?” Then realizing the futility of the question, he yielded to a + fresh burst of anger, and turned upon the bereaved register. “An' did ye + jes set thar an' say, 'Good Mister Fire, don't burn the records; what 'll + folks do 'bout thar deeds an' sech?' an' hold them claws o' yourn, an' see + the court-house burn up, with that thar stray-book in it?” + </p> + <p> + Half a dozen men spoke up. “The fire tuk inside, an' the court-house war + haffen gone 'fore 'twar seen,” said one, in sulky extenuation. + </p> + <p> + “Leave Tobe be—let him jaw!” said another, cavalierly. + </p> + <p> + “Tobe 'pears ter be sp'ilin' fur a fight,” said a third, impersonally, as + if to direct the attention of any belligerent in the group to the + opportunity. + </p> + <p> + The register had an expression of slow cunning as he cast a glance up at + the overbearing ranger. + </p> + <p> + “What ailed the stray-book ter bide hyar in the court-house all night, + Tobe? Couldn't ye gin it house-room? Thar warn't no special need fur it to + be hyar.” + </p> + <p> + Tobe Gryce's face showed that for once he was at a loss. He glowered down + at the register and said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Ez ter me,” resumed that worthy, “by the law o' the land my books war + obligated ter be thar.” He quoted, mournfully, “'Shall at all times be and + remain in his office.'” + </p> + <p> + He gathered up his knee again and subsided into silence. + </p> + <p> + All the freakish spirits of the air were a-loose in the wind. In fitful + gusts they rushed up the gorge, then suddenly the boughs would fall still + again, and one could hear the eerie rout a-rioting far off down the + valley. Now and then the glow of the fire would deepen, the coals tremble, + and with a gleaming, fibrous swirl, like a garment of flames, a sudden + animation would sweep over it, as if an apparition had passed, leaving a + line of flying sparks to mark its trail. + </p> + <p> + “I'm goin' home,” drawled Tobe Gryce, presently. “I don't keer a frog's + toe-nail ef the whole settle-mint burns bodaciously up; 'tain't nuthin ter + me. I hev never hankered ter live in towns an' git tuk up with town ways, + an' set an' view the court-house like the apple o' my eye. We-uns don't + ketch fire down in the Cove, though mebbe we ain't so peart ez folks ez + herd tergether like sheep an' sech.” + </p> + <p> + The footfalls of the little black mare annotated the silence of the place + as he rode away into the darkling woods. The groups gradually disappeared + from the porches. The few voices that sounded at long intervals were low + and drowsy. The red fire smouldered in the centre of the place, and + sometimes about it appeared so doubtful a shadow that it could hardly + argue substance. Far away a dog barked, and then all was still. + </p> + <p> + Presently the great mountains loom aggressively along the horizon. The + black abysses, the valleys and coves, show dun-colored verges and grow + gradually distinct, and on the slopes the ash and the pine and the oak are + all lustrous with a silver rime. The mists are rising, the wind springs up + anew, the clouds set sail, and a beam slants high. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + “What I want ter know,” said a mountaineer newly arrived on the scene, + sitting on the verge of the precipice, and dangling his long legs over the + depths beneath, “air how do folks ez live 'way down in Lonesome Cove, an' + who nobody knowed nuthin about noways, ever git 'lected ranger o' the + county, ennyhow. I ain't s'prised none ter hear 'bout Tobe Gryce's + goin's-on hyar las' night. I hev looked fur more'n that.” + </p> + <p> + “Wa'al, I'll tell ye,” replied the register. “Nuthin' but favoritism in + the county court. Ranger air 'lected by the jestices. Ye know,” he added, + vainglorious of his own tenure of office by the acclaiming voice of the + sovereign people, “ranger ain't 'lected, like the register, by pop'lar + vote.” + </p> + <p> + A slow smoke still wreathed upward from the charred ruins of the + court-house. Gossiping groups stood here and there, mostly the jeans-clad + mountaineers, but there were a few who wore “store clothes,” being lawyers + from more sophisticated regions of the circuit. Court had been in session + the previous day. The jury, serving in a criminal case—still + strictly segregated, and in charge of an officer—were walking about + wearily in double file, waiting with what patience they might their formal + discharge. + </p> + <p> + The sheriffs dog, a great yellow cur, trotted in the rear. When the + officer was first elected, this animal, observing the change in his + master's habits, deduced his own conclusions. He seemed to think the + court-house belonged to the sheriff, and thenceforward guarded the door + with snaps and growls; being a formidable brute, his idiosyncrasies + invested the getting into and getting out of law with abnormal + difficulties. Now, as he followed the disconsolate jury, he bore the + vigilant mien with which he formerly drove up the cows, and if a juror + loitered or stepped aside from the path, the dog made a slow detour as if + to round him in, and the melancholy cortege wandered on as before. More + than one looked wistfully at the group on the crag, for it was + distinguished by that sprightly interest which scandal excites so readily. + </p> + <p> + “Ter my way of thinking” drawled Sam Peters, swinging his feet over the + giddy depths of the valley, “Tobe ain't sech ez oughter be set over the + county ez a ranger, noways. 'Pears not ter me, an' I hev been keepin' my + eye on him mighty sharp.” + </p> + <p> + A shadow fell among the group, and a man sat down on a bowlder hard by. + He, too, had just arrived, being lured to the town by the news of the + fire. His slide had been left at the verge of the clearing, and one of the + oxen had already lain down; the other, although hampered by the yoke thus + diagonally displaced, stood meditatively gazing at the distant blue + mountains. Their master nodded a slow, grave salutation to the group, + produced a plug of tobacco, gnawed a fragment from it, and restored it to + his pocket. He had a pensive face, with an expression which in a man of + wider culture we should discriminate as denoting sensibility. He had long + yellow hair that hung down to his shoulders, and a tangled yellow beard. + There was something at once wistful and searching in his gray eyes, dull + enough, too, at times. He lifted them heavily, and they had a drooping lid + and lash. There seemed an odd incongruity between this sensitive, weary + face and his stalwart physique. He was tall and well proportioned. A + leather belt girded his brown jeans coat. His great cowhide boots, were + drawn to the knee over his trousers. His pose, as he leaned on the rock, + had a muscular picturesque-ness. + </p> + <p> + “Who be ye a-talkin' about?” he drawled. + </p> + <p> + Peters relished his opportunity. He laughed in a distorted fashion, his + pipe-stem held between his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “<i>You-uns</i> ain't wantin' ter swop lies 'bout sech ez him, Luke! We + war a-talkin' 'bout Tobe Gryce.” + </p> + <p> + The color flared into the new-comer's face. A sudden animation fired his + eye. + </p> + <p> + “Tobe Gryce air jes the man I'm always wantin' ter hear a word about. Jes + perceed with yer rat-killin'. I'm with ye.” And Luke Todd placed his + elbows on his knees and leaned forward with an air of attention. + </p> + <p> + Peters looked at him, hardly comprehending this ebullition. It was not + what he had expected to elicit. No one laughed. His fleer was wide of the + mark. + </p> + <p> + “Wa'al”—he made another effort—“Tobe, we war jes sayin', ain't + fitten fur ter be ranger o' the county. He be ez peart in gittin' ter own + other folkses' stray cattle ez he war in courtin' other folkses' + sweetheart, an', ef the truth mus' be knowed, in marryin' her.” He + suddenly twisted round, in some danger of falling from his perch. “I want + ter ax one o' them thar big-headed lawyers a question on a p'int o' law,” + he broke off, abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “What be Tobe Gryce a-doin' of now?” asked Luke Todd, with eager interest + in the subject. + </p> + <p> + “Wa'al,” resumed Peters, nowise loath to return to the gossip, “Tobe, ye + see, air the ranger o' this hyar county, an' by law all the stray horses + ez air tuk up by folks hev ter be reported ter him, an' appraised by two + householders, an' swore to afore the magistrate an' be advertised by the + ranger, an' ef they ain't claimed 'fore twelve months, the taker-up kin + pay into the county treasury one-haffen the appraisement an' hev the + critter fur his'n. An' the owner can't prove it away arter that.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanky,” said Luke Todd, dryly. “S'pose ye teach yer gran'mammy ter suck + aigs. I knowed all that afore.” + </p> + <p> + Peters was abashed, and with some difficulty collected himself. + </p> + <p> + “An' I knowed ye knowed it, Luke,” he hastily conceded. “But hyar be what + I'm a-lookin' at—the law 'ain't got no pervision fur a stray horse + ez kem of a dark night, 'thout nobody's percuremint, ter the ranger's own + house. Now, the p'int o' law ez I wanted ter ax the lawyers 'bout air this—kin + the ranger be the ranger an' the taker-up too?” + </p> + <p> + He turned his eyes upon the great landscape lying beneath, flooded with + the chill matutinal sunshine, and flecked here and there with the elusive + shadow's of the fleecy drifting clouds. Far away the long horizontal lines + of the wooded spurs, converging on either side of the valley and rising + one behind the other, wore a subdued azure, all unlike the burning blue of + summer, and lay along the calm, passionless sky, that itself was of a dim, + repressed tone. On the slopes nearer, the leafless boughs, massed + together, had purplish-garnet depths of color wherever the sunshine struck + aslant, and showed richly against the faintly tinted horizon. Here and + there among the boldly jutting gray crags hung an evergreen-vine, and from + a gorge on the opposite mountain gleamed a continuous flash, like the + waving of a silver plume, where a cataract sprang down the rocks. In the + depths of the valley, a field in which crab-grass had grown in the place + of the harvested wheat showed a tiny square of palest yellow, and beside + it a red clay road, running over a hill, was visible. Above all a hawk was + flying. + </p> + <p> + “Afore the winter fairly set in las' year,” Peters resumed, presently, “a + stray kem ter Tobe's house. He 'lowed ter me ez he fund her a-standin' by + the fodder-stack a-pullin' off'n it. An' he 'quired round, an' he never + hearn o' no owner. I reckon he never axed outside o' Lonesome,” he added, + cynically. + </p> + <p> + He puffed industriously at his pipe for a few moments; then continued: + “Wa'al, he 'lowed he couldn't feed the critter fur fun. An' he couldn't + work her till she war appraised an' sech, that bein' agin the law fur + strays. So he jes ondertook ter be ranger an' taker-up too—the + bangedest consarn in the kentry! Ef the leetle mare hed been wall-eyed, or + lame, or ennything, he wouldn't hev wanted ter be ranger an' taker-up too. + But she air the peartest little beastis—she war jes bridle-wise when + she fust kem—young an' spry!” + </p> + <p> + Luke Todd was about to ask a question, but Peters, disregarding him, + persisted: + </p> + <p> + “Wa'al, Tobe tuk up the beastis, an' I reckon he reported her ter hisself, + bein' the ranger—the critter makes me laff—an' he hed that + thar old haffen-blind uncle o' his'n an' Perkins Bates, ez be never sober, + ter appraise the vally o' the mare, an' I s'pose he delivered thar + certificate ter hisself, an' I reckon he tuk oath that she kem 'thout his + procure<i>mint</i> ter his place, in the presence o' the ranger.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon thar ain't no law agin the ranger's bein' a ranger an' a + taker-up too,” put in one of the bystanders. “'Tain't like a sher'ff 's + buyin' at his own sale. An' he hed ter pay haffen her vally into the + treasury o' the county arter twelve months, ef the owner never proved her + away.” + </p> + <p> + “Thar ain't no sign he ever paid a cent,” said Peters, with a malicious + grin, pointing at the charred remains of the court-house, “an' the + treasurer air jes dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Wa'al, Tobe hed ter make a report ter the jedge o' the county court every + six months.” + </p> + <p> + “The papers of his office air cinders,” retorted Peters. + </p> + <p> + “Wa'al, then,” argued the optimist, “the stray-book will show ez she war + reported an' sech.” + </p> + <p> + “The ranger took mighty partic'lar pains ter hev his stray-book in that + thar court-house when 'twar burnt.” + </p> + <p> + There was a long pause while the party sat ruminating upon the suspicions + thus suggested. + </p> + <p> + Luke Todd heard them, not without a thrill of satisfaction. He found them + easy to adopt. And he, too, had a disposition to theorize. + </p> + <p> + “It takes a mighty mean man ter steal a horse,” he said. “Stealin' a horse + air powerful close ter murder. Folkses' lives fairly depend on a horse ter + work thar corn an' sech, an' make a support fur em. I hev' knowed folks + ter kem mighty close ter starvin' through hevin thar horse stole. Why, + even that thar leetle filly of our'n, though she hedn't been fairly bruk + ter the plough, war mightily missed. We-uns hed ter make out with the old + sorrel, ez air nigh fourteen year old, ter work the crap, an' we war + powerful disappointed. But we ain't never fund no trace o' the filly sence + she war tolled off one night las' fall a year ago.” + </p> + <p> + The hawk floating above the valley and its winged shadow disappeared + together in the dense glooms of a deep gorge. Luke Todd watched them as + they vanished. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he lifted his eyes. They were wide with a new speculation. An + angry flare blazed in them. “What sort'n beastis is this hyar mare ez the + ranger tuk up?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Peters looked at him, hardly comprehending his tremor of excitement. + “Seems sorter sizable,” he replied, sibilantly, sucking his pipe-stem. + </p> + <p> + Todd nodded meditatively several times, leaning his elbows on his knees, + his eyes fixed on the landscape. “Hev she got enny particular marks, ez ye + knows on?” he drawled. + </p> + <p> + “Wa'al, she be ez black ez a crow, with the nigh fore-foot white. An' she + hev got a white star spang in the middle o' her forehead, an' the left + side o' her nose is white too.” + </p> + <p> + Todd rose suddenly to his feet. “By gum!” he cried, with a burst of + passion, “she air <i>my</i> filly! An' 'twar that thar durned horse-thief + of a ranger ez tolled her off!” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Deep among the wooded spurs Lonesome Cove nestles, sequestered from the + world. Naught emigrates thence except an importunate stream that forces + its way through a rocky gap, and so to freedom beyond. No stranger + intrudes; only the moon looks in once in a while. The roaming wind may + explore its solitudes; and it is but the vertical sunbeams that strike to + the heart of the little basin, because of the massive mountains that wall + it round and serve to isolate it. So nearly do they meet at the gap that + one great assertive crag, beetling far above, intercepts the view of the + wide landscape beyond, leaving its substituted profile jaggedly serrating + the changing sky. Above it, when the weather is fair, appear vague blue + lines, distant mountain summits, cloud strata, visions. Below its jutting + verge may be caught glimpses of the widening valley without. But + pre-eminent, gaunt, sombre, it sternly dominates “Lonesome,” and is the + salient feature of the little world it limits. + </p> + <p> + Tobe Gryce's house, gray, weather-beaten, moss-grown, had in comparison an + ephemeral, modern aspect. For a hundred years its inmates had come and + gone and lived and died. They took no heed of the crag, but never a sound + was lost upon it. Their drawling iterative speech the iterative echoes + conned. The ringing blast of a horn set astir some phantom chase in the + air. When the cows came lowing home, there were lowing herds in viewless + company. Even if one of the children sat on a rotting log crooning a + vague, fragmentary ditty, some faint-voiced spirit in the rock would sing. + Lonesome Cove?—home of invisible throngs! + </p> + <p> + As the ranger trotted down the winding road, multitudinous hoof-beats, as + of a troop of cavalry, heralded his approach to the little girl who stood + on the porch of the log-cabin and watched for him. + </p> + <p> + “Hy're, Cunnel!” he cried, cordially. + </p> + <p> + But the little “Colonel” took no heed. She looked beyond him at the vague + blue mountains, against which the great grim rock was heavily imposed, + every ledge, every waving dead crisp weed, distinct. + </p> + <p> + He noticed the smoke curling briskly up in the sunshine from the clay and + slick chimney. He strode past her into the house, as Eugenia, with all + semblance of youth faded from her countenance, haggard and hollow-eyed in + the morning light, was hurrying the corn-dodgers and venison steak on the + table. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps he did not appreciate that the women were pining with curiosity, + for he vouchsafed no word of the excitements in the little town; and he + himself was ill at ease. + </p> + <p> + “What ails the Cunnel, 'Genie?” he asked, presently, glancing up sharply + from under his hat brim, and speaking with his mouth full. + </p> + <p> + “The cat 'pears ter hev got her tongue,” said Eugenia, intending that the + “Colonel” should hear, and perhaps profit. “She ain't able ter talk none + this mornin'.” + </p> + <p> + The little body cast so frowning a glance upon them as she stood in the + doorway that her expression was but slightly less lowering than her + father's. It was an incongruous demonstration, with her infantile + features, her little yellow head, and the slight physical force she + represented. She wore a blue cotton frock, fastened up the back with great + horn buttons; she had on shoes laced with leather strings; one of her blue + woollen stockings fell over her ankle, disclosing the pinkest of plump + calves; the other stocking was held in place by an unabashed cotton + string. She had a light in her dark eyes and a color in her cheek, and + albeit so slight a thing, she wielded a strong coercion. + </p> + <p> + “Laws-a-massy, Cunnel!” said Tobe, in a harried manner, “couldn't ye find + me nowhar? I'm powerful sorry. I couldn't git back hyar no sooner.” + </p> + <p> + But not in this wise was she to be placated. She fixed her eyes upon him, + but made no sign. + </p> + <p> + He suddenly rose from his half-finished breakfast. “Look-a-hyar, Cunnel,” + he cried, joyously, “don't ye want ter ride the filly?—ye knew ye + hanker ter ride the filly.” + </p> + <p> + Even then she tried to frown, but the bliss of the prospect overbore her. + Her cheek and chin dimpled, and there was a gurgling display of two rows + of jagged little teeth as the doughty “Colonel” was swung to his shoulder + and he stepped out of the door. + </p> + <p> + He laughed as he stood by the glossy black mare and lifted the child to + the saddle. The animal arched her neck and turned her head and gazed back + at him curiously. “Hold on tight, Cunnel,” he said as he looked up at her, + his face strangely softened almost beyond recognition. And she gurgled and + laughed and screamed with delight as he began to slowly lead the mare + along. + </p> + <p> + The “Colonel” had the gift of continuance. Some time elapsed before she + exhausted the joys of exaltation. More than once she absolutely refused to + dismount. Tobe patiently led the beast up and down, and the “Colonel” rode + in state. It was only when the sun had grown high, and occasionally she + was fain to lift her chubby hands to her eyes, imperiling her safety on + the saddle, that he ventured to seriously remonstrate, and finally she + permitted herself to be assisted to the ground. When, with the little girl + at his heels, he reached the porch, he took off his hat, and wiped the + perspiration from his brow with his great brown hand. + </p> + <p> + “I tell ye, jouncin' round arter the Cunnel air powerful hot work,” he + declared. + </p> + <p> + The next moment he paused. His wife had come to the door, and there was a + strange expression of alarm among the anxious lines of her face. + </p> + <p> + “Tobe,” she said, in a bated voice, “who war them men?” + </p> + <p> + He stared at her, whirled about, surveyed the vacant landscape, and once + more turned dumfound-ed toward her. “What men?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Them men ez acted so cur'ous,” she said. “I couldn't see thar faces + plain, an' I dunno who they war.” + </p> + <p> + “Whar war they?” And he looked over his shoulder once more. + </p> + <p> + “Yander along the ledges of the big rock. Thar war two of 'em, hidin' + ahint that thar jagged aidge. An' ef yer back war turned they'd peep out + at ye an' the Cunnel ridin'. But whenst ye would face round agin, they'd + drap down ahint the aidge o' the rock. I 'lowed wunst ez I'd holler ter + ye, but I war feared ye moughtn't keer ter know.” Her voice fell in its + deprecatory cadence. + </p> + <p> + He stodd in silent perplexity. “Ye air a fool, 'Genie, an' ye never seen + nuthin'. Nobody hev got enny call ter spy on me.” + </p> + <p> + He stepped in-doors, took down his rifle from the rack, and went out + frowning into the sunlight. + </p> + <p> + The suggestion of mystery angered him. He had a vague sense of impending + danger. As he made his way along the slope toward the great beetling crag + all his faculties were on the alert. He saw naught unusual when he stood + upon its dark-seamed summit, and he went cautiously to the verge and + looked down at the many ledges. They jutted out at irregular intervals, + the first only six feet below, and all accessible enough to an expert + climber. A bush grew in a niche. An empty nest, riddled by the wind, hung + dishevelled from a twig. Coarse withered grass tufted the crevices. + </p> + <p> + Far below he saw the depths of the Cove—the tops of the leafless + trees, and, glimpsed through the interlacing boughs, the rush of a + mountain rill, and a white flash as a sunbeam slanted on the foam. + </p> + <p> + He was turning away, all incredulous, when with a sudden start he looked + back. On one of the ledges was a slight depression. It was filled with + sand and earth. Imprinted upon it was the shape of a man's foot. The + ranger paused and gazed fixedly at it. “Wa'al, by the Lord!” he exclaimed, + under his breath. Presently, “But they hev no call!” he. argued. Then once + more, softly, “By the Lord!” + </p> + <p> + The mystery baffled him. More than once that day he went up to the crag + and stood and stared futilely at the footprint. Conjecture had license and + limitations, too. As the hours wore on he became harassed by the sense of + espionage. He was a bold man before the foes he knew, but this idea of + inimical lurking, of furtive scrutiny for unknown purposes, preyed upon + him. He brooded over it as he sat idle by the fire. Once he went to the + door and stared speculatively at the great profile of the cliff. The sky + above it was all a lustrous amber, for the early sunset of the shortest + days of the year was at hand. The mountains, seen partly above and partly + below it, wore a glamourous purple. There were clouds, and from their + rifts long divergent lines of light slanted down upon the valley, distinct + among their shadows. The sun was not visible—only in the western + heavens was a half-veiled effulgence too dazzlingly white to be gazed + upon. The ranger shaded his eyes with his hand. + </p> + <p> + No motion, no sound; for the first time in his life the unutterable + loneliness of the place impressed him. + </p> + <p> + “'Genie,” he said, suddenly, looking over his shoulder within the cabin, + “be you-uns <i>sure</i> ez they war—<i>folks?</i>” + </p> + <p> + “I dunno what you mean,” she faltered, her eyes dilated. “They <i>looked</i> + like folks.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon they war,” he said, reassuring himself. “The Lord knows I hope + they war.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + That night the wind rose. The stars all seemed to have burst from their + moorings, and were wildly adrift in the sky. There was a broken tumult of + billowy clouds, and the moon tossed hopelessly amongst them, a lunar + wreck, sometimes on her beam ends, sometimes half submerged, once more + gallantly struggling to the surface, and again sunk. The bare boughs of + the trees beat together in a dirgelike monotone. Now and again a leaf went + sibilantly whistling past. The wild commotion of the heavens and earth was + visible, for the night was not dark. The ranger, standing within the rude + stable of unhewn logs, all undaubed, noted how pale were the horizontal + bars of gray light alternating with the black logs of the wall. He was + giving the mare a feed of corn, but he had not brought his lantern, as was + his custom. That mysterious espionage had in some sort shaken his courage, + and he felt the obscurity a shield. He had brought, instead, his rifle. + </p> + <p> + The equine form was barely visible among the glooms. Now and then, as the + mare noisily munched, she lifted a hoof and struck it upon the ground with + a dull thud. How the gusts outside were swirling up the gorge! The pines + swayed and sighed. Again the boughs of the chestnut-oak above the roof + crashed together. Did a fitful blast stir the door? + </p> + <p> + He lifted his eyes mechanically. A cold thrill ran through every fibre. + For there, close by the door, somebody—something—was peering + through the space between the logs of the wall. The face was invisible, + but the shape of a man's head was distinctly defined. He realized that it + was no supernatural manifestation when a husky voice began to call the + mare, in a hoarse whisper, “Cobe! Cobe! Cobe!” With a galvanic start he + was about to spring forward to hold the door. A hand from without was laid + upon it. + </p> + <p> + He placed the muzzle of his gun between the logs, a jet of red light was + suddenly projected into the darkness, the mare was rearing and plunging + violently, the little shanty was surcharged with roar and reverberation, + and far and wide the crags and chasms echoed the report of the rifle. + </p> + <p> + There was a vague clamor outside, an oath, a cry of pain. Hasty footfalls + sounded among the dead leaves and died in the distance. + </p> + <p> + When the ranger ventured out he saw the door of his house wide open, and + the firelight flickering out among the leafless bushes. His wife met him + halfway down the hill. + </p> + <p> + “Air ye hurt, Tobe?” she cried. “Did yer gun go off suddint?” + </p> + <p> + “Mighty suddint,” he replied, savagely. + </p> + <p> + “Ye didn't fire it a-purpose?” she faltered. + </p> + <p> + “Edzactly so,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + “Ye never hurt nobody, did ye, Tobe?” She had turned very pale. “I 'lowed + it couldn't be the wind ez I hearn a-hollerin'.” + </p> + <p> + “I hopes an' prays I hurt 'em,” he said, as he replaced the rifle in the + rack. He was shaking the other hand, which had been jarred in some way by + the hasty discharge of the weapon. “Some dad-burned horse-thief war arter + the mare. Jedgin' from the sound o' thar running 'peared like to me ez + thar mought be two o' 'em.” + </p> + <p> + The next day the mare disappeared from the stable. Yet she could not be + far off, for Tobe was about the house most of the time, and when he and + the “Colonel” came in-doors in the evening the little girl held in her + hand a half-munched ear of corn, evidently abstracted from the mare's + supper. + </p> + <p> + “Whar be the filly hid, Tobe?” Eugenia asked, curiosity overpowering her. + </p> + <p> + “Ax me no questions an' I'll tell ye no lies,” he replied, gruffly. + </p> + <p> + In the morning there was a fall of snow, and she had some doubt whether + her mother, who had gone several days before to a neighbor's on the summit + of the range, would return; but presently the creak of unoiled axles + heralded the approach of a wagon, and soon the old woman, bundled in + shawls, was sitting by the fire. She wore heavy woollen socks over her + shoes as protection against the snow. The incompatibility of the shape of + the hose with the human foot was rather marked, and as they were somewhat + inelastic as well, there was a muscular struggle to get them off only + exceeded by the effort which had been required to get them on. She shook + her head again and again, with a red face, as she bent over the socks, but + plainly more than this discomfort vexed her. + </p> + <p> + “Laws-a-massy, 'Genie! I hearn a awful tale over yander 'mongst them + Jenkins folks. Ye oughter hev married Luke Todd, an' so I tole ye an' + fairly beset ye ter do ten year ago. <i>He</i> keered fur ye. An' Tobe—shucks! + Wa'al, laws-a-massy, child! I hearn a awful tale 'bout Tobe up yander at + Jenkinses'.” + </p> + <p> + Eugenia colored. + </p> + <p> + “Folks hed better take keer how they talk 'bout Tobe,” she said, with a + touch of pride. “They be powerful keerful ter do it out'n rifle range.” + </p> + <p> + With one more mighty tug the sock came off, the red face was lifted, and + Mrs. Pearce shook her head ruefully. + </p> + <p> + “The Bible say 'words air foolishness.' Ye dun-no what ye air talkin' + 'bout, child.” + </p> + <p> + With this melancholy preamble she detailed the gossip that had arisen at + the county town and pervaded the country-side. Eugenia commented, denied, + flashed into rage, then lapsed into silence. Although it did not constrain + credulity, there was something that made her afraid when her mother said: + </p> + <p> + “Ye hed better not be talkin' 'bout rifle range so brash, 'Genie, nohows. + They 'lowed ez Luke Todd an' Sam Peters kem hyar—'twar jes night + before las'—aimin' ter take the mare away 'thout no words an' no + lawin', 'kase they didn't want ter wait. Luke hed got a chance ter view + the mare, an' knowed ez she war hisn. An' Tobe war hid in the dark beside + the mare, an' fired at 'em, an' the rifle-ball tuk Sam right through the + beam o' his arm. I reckon, though, ez that warn't true, else ye would hev + knowed it.” + </p> + <p> + She looked up anxiously over her spectacles at her daughter. + </p> + <p> + “I hearn Tobe shoot,” faltered Eugenia. “I seen blood on the leaves.” + </p> + <p> + “Laws-a-massy!” exclaimed the old woman, irritably. “I be fairly feared + ter bide hyar; 'twouldn't s'prise me none ef they kem hyar an' hauled Tobe + out an' lynched him an' sech, an' who knows who mought git hurt in the + scrimmage?” + </p> + <p> + They both fell silent as the ranger strode in. They would need a braver + heart than either bore to reveal to him the suspicions of horse-stealing + sown broadcast over the mountain. Eugenia felt that this in itself was + coercive evidence of his innocence. Who dared so much as say a word to his + face? + </p> + <p> + The weight of the secret asserted itself, however. As she went about her + accustomed tasks, all bereft of their wonted interest, vapid and + burdensome, she carried so woe-begone a face that it caught his attention, + and he demanded, angrily, + </p> + <p> + “What ails ye ter look so durned peaked?” + </p> + <p> + This did not abide long in his memory, however, and it cost her a pang to + see him so unconscious. + </p> + <p> + She went out upon the porch late that afternoon to judge of the weather. + Snow was falling again. The distant summits had disappeared. The mountains + near at hand loomed through the myriads of serried white flakes. A crow + flew across the Cove in its midst. It heavily thatched the cabin, and + tufts dislodged by the opening of the door fell down upon her hair. Drifts + lay about the porch. Each rail of the fence was laden. The ground, the + rocks, were deeply covered. She reflected with satisfaction that the red + splotch of blood on the dead leaves was no longer visible. Then a sudden + idea struck her that took her breath away. She came in, her cheeks + flushed, her eyes bright, with an excited dubitation. + </p> + <p> + Her husband commented on the change. “Ye air a powerful cur'ous critter, + 'Genie,” he said: “a while ago ye looked some fower or five hundred year + old—now ye favors yerself when I fust kem a-courtin' round the + settlemint.” + </p> + <p> + She hardly knew whether the dull stir in her heart were pleasure or pain. + Her eyes filled with tears, and the irradiated iris shone through them + with a liquid lustre. She could not speak. + </p> + <p> + Her mother took ephemeral advantage of his softening mood. “Ye useter be + mighty perlite and saaft-spoken in them days, Tobe,” she ventured. + </p> + <p> + “I hed ter be,” he admitted, frankly, “'kase thar war sech a many o' them + mealy-mouthed cusses a-waitin' on 'Genie. The kentry 'peared ter me ter + bristle with Luke Todd; he 'minded me o' brumsaidge—<i>everywhar</i> + ye seen his yaller head, ez homely an' ez onwelcome.” + </p> + <p> + “I never wunst gin Luke a thought arter ye tuk ter comin' round the + settlemint,” Eugenia said, softly. + </p> + <p> + “I wisht I hed knowed that then,” he replied; “else I wouldn't hev been so + all-fired oneasy an' beset I wasted mo' time a-studyin' 'bout ye an' Luke + Todd 'n ye war both wuth, an' went 'thout my vittles an' sot up o' nights. + Ef I hed spent that time a-moanin' fur my sins an' settin' my soul at + peace, I'd be 'quirin' roun' the throne o' Grace now! Young folks air + powerful fursaken fools.” + </p> + <p> + Somehow her heart was warmer for this allusion. She was more hopeful. Her + resolve grew stronger and stronger as she sat and knitted, and looked at + the fire and saw among the coals all her old life at the settlement newly + aglow. She was remembering now that Luke Todd had been as wax in her + hands. She recalled that when she was married there was a gleeful “sayin'” + going the rounds of the mountain that he had taken to the woods with + grief, and he was heard of no more for weeks. The gossips relished his + despair as the corollary of the happy bridal. He had had no reproaches for + her. He had only looked the other way when they met, and she had not + spoken to him since. + </p> + <p> + “He set store by my word in them days,” she said to herself, her lips + vaguely moving. “I misdoubts ef he hev furgot.” + </p> + <p> + All through the long hours of the winter night she silently canvassed her + plan. The house was still noiseless and dark when she softly opened the + door and softly closed it behind her. + </p> + <p> + It had ceased to snow, and the sky had cleared. The trees, all the limbs + whitened, were outlined distinctly upon it, and through the boughs + overhead a brilliant star, aloof and splendid, looked coldly down. Along + dark spaces Orion had drawn his glittering blade. Above the snowy + mountains a melancholy waning moon was swinging. The valley was full of + mist, white and shining where the light fell upon it, a vaporous purple + where the shadows held sway. So still it was! the only motion in all the + world the throbbing stars and her palpitating heart. So solemnly silent! + It was a relief, as she trudged on and on, to note a gradual change; to + watch the sky withdraw, seeming fainter; to see the moon grow filmy, like + some figment of the frost; to mark the gray mist steal on apace, wrap + mountain, valley, and heaven with mystic folds, shut out all vision of + things familiar. Through it only the sense of dawn could creep. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + She recognized the locality; her breath was short; her step quickened. She + appeared, like an apparition out of the mists, close to a fence, and + peered through the snow-laden rails. A sudden pang pierced her heart. + </p> + <p> + For there, within the enclosure, milking the cow, she saw, all blooming in + the snow—herself; the azalea-like girl she had been! + </p> + <p> + She had not known how dear to her was that bright young identity she + remembered. She had not realized how far it had gone from her. She felt a + forlorn changeling looking upon her own estranged estate. + </p> + <p> + A faint cry escaped her. + </p> + <p> + The cow, with lifted head and a muttered low of surprise, moved out of + reach of the milker, who, half kneeling upon the ground, stared with wide + blue eyes at her ghost in the mist. + </p> + <p> + There was a pause. It was only a moment before Eugenia spoke; it seemed + years, so charged it was with retrospect. + </p> + <p> + “I kem over hyar ter hev a word with ye,” she said. + </p> + <p> + At the sound of a human voice Luke Todd's wife struggled to her feet She + held the piggin with one arm encircled about it, and with the other hand + she clutched the plaid shawl around her throat. Her bright hair was tossed + by the rising wind. + </p> + <p> + “I 'lowed I'd find ye hyar a-milkin' 'bout now.” + </p> + <p> + The homely allusion reassured the younger woman. + </p> + <p> + “I hev ter begin toler'ble early,” she said. “Spot gins 'bout a gallon a + milkin' now.” + </p> + <p> + Spot's calf, which subsisted on what was left over, seemed to find it + cruel that delay should be added to his hardships, and he lifted up his + voice in a plaintive remonstrance. This reminded Mrs. Todd of his + existence; she turned and let down the bars that served to exclude him. + </p> + <p> + The stranger was staring at her very hard. Somehow she quailed under that + look. Though it was fixed upon her in unvarying intensity, it had a + strange impersonality. This woman was not seeing her, despite that wide, + wistful, yearning gaze; she was thinking of something else, seeing some + one else. + </p> + <p> + And suddenly Luke Todd's wife began to stare at the visitor very hard, and + to think of something that was not before her. + </p> + <p> + “I be the ranger's wife,” said Eugenia. “I kem over hyar ter tell ye he + never tuk yer black mare nowise but honest, bein' the ranger.” + </p> + <p> + She found it difficult to say more. Under that speculative, unseeing look + she too faltered. + </p> + <p> + “They tell me ez Luke Todd air powerful outed 'bout'n it. An' I 'lowed ef + he knowed from me ez 'twar tuk fair, he'd b'lieve me.” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated. Her courage was flagging; her hope had fled. The eyes of + the man's wife burned upon her face. + </p> + <p> + “We-uns useter be toler'ble well 'quainted 'fore he ever seen ye, an' I + 'lowed he'd b'lieve my word,” Eugenia continued. + </p> + <p> + Another silence. The sun was rising; long liquescent lines of light of + purest amber-color were streaming through the snowy woods; the shadows of + the fence rails alternated with bars of dazzling glister; elusive + prismatic gleams of rose and lilac and blue shimmered on every slope—thus + the winter flowered. Tiny snow-birds were hopping about; a great dog came + down from the little snow-thatched cabin, and was stretching himself + elastically and yawning most portentously. + </p> + <p> + “An' I 'lowed I'd see ye an' git you-uns ter tell him that word from me, + an' then he'd b'lieve it,” said Eugenia. + </p> + <p> + The younger woman nodded mechanically, still gazing at her. + </p> + <p> + And was this her mission! Somehow it had lost its urgency. Where was its + potency, her enthusiasm? Eugenia realized that her feet were wet, her + skirts draggled; that she was chilled to the bone and trembling violently. + She looked about her doubtfully. Then her eyes came back to the face of + the woman before her. + </p> + <p> + “Ye'll tell him, I s'pose?” + </p> + <p> + Once more Luke Todd's wife nodded mechanically, still staring. + </p> + <p> + There was nothing further to be said. A vacant interval ensued. Then, “I + 'lowed I'd tell ye,” Eugenia reiterated, vaguely, and turned away, + vanishing with the vanishing mists. + </p> + <p> + Luke Todd's wife stood gazing at the fence through which the apparition + had peered. She could see yet her own face there, grown old and worn. The + dog wagged his tail and pressed against her, looking up and claiming her + notice. Once more he stretched himself elastically and yawned widely, with + shrill variations of tone. The calf was frisking about in awkward bovine + elation, and now and then the cow affectionately licked its coat with the + air of making its toilet. An assertive chanticleer was proclaiming the + dawn within the henhouse, whence came too an impatient clamor, for the + door, which served to exclude any marauding fox, was still closed upon the + imprisoned poultry. Still she looked steadily at the fence where the + ranger's wife had stood. + </p> + <p> + “That thar woman favors me,” she said, presently. And suddenly she burst + into tears. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps it was well that Eugenia could not see Luke Todd's expression as + his wife recounted the scene. She gave it truly, but without, alas! the + glamour of sympathy. + </p> + <p> + “She 'lowed ez ye'd b'lieve her, bein' ez ye use-ter be 'quainted.” + </p> + <p> + His face flushed. “Wa'al, sir! the insurance o' that thar woman!” he + exclaimed. “I war 'quainted with her; I war mighty well 'quainted with + her.” He had a casual remembrance of those days when “he tuk ter the woods + ter wear out his grief.” + </p> + <p> + “She never gin me no promise, but me an' her war courtin' some. Sech + dependence ez I put on her war mightily wasted. I dunno what ails the + critter ter 'low ez I set store by her word.” + </p> + <p> + Poor Eugenia! There is nothing so dead as ashes. His flame had clean + burned out. So far afield were all his thoughts that he stood amazed when + his wife, with a sudden burst of tears, declared passionately that she + knew it—she saw it—she favored Eugenia Gryce. She had found + out that he had married her because she looked like another woman. + </p> + <p> + “'Genie Gryce hev got powerful little ter do ter kem a-jouncin' through + the snow over hyar ter try ter set ye an' me agin one another,” he + exclaimed, angrily. “Stealin' the filly ain't enough ter sati'fy her!” + </p> + <p> + His wife was in some sort mollified. She sought to reassure herself. + </p> + <p> + “Air we-uns of a favor?” + </p> + <p> + “I dunno,” he replied, sulkily. “I 'ain't seen the critter fur nigh on ter + ten year. I hev furgot the looks of her. 'Pears like ter me,” he went on, + ruminating, “ez 'twar in my mind when I fust seen ye ez thar war a favor + 'twixt ye. But I misdoubts now. Do she 'low ez I hev hed nuthin ter study + 'bout sence?” + </p> + <p> + Perhaps Eugenia is not the only woman who overrates the strength of a + sentimental attachment. A gloomy intuition of failure kept her company all + the lengthening way home. The chill splendors of the wintry day grated + upon her dreary mood. How should she care for the depth and richness of + the blue deepening toward the zenith in those vast skies? What was it to + her that the dead vines, climbing the grim rugged crags, were laden with + tufts and corollated shapes wherever these fantasies of flowers might + cling, or that the snow flashed with crystalline scintillations? She only + knew that they glimmered and dazzled upon the tears in her eyes, and she + was moved to shed them afresh. She did not wonder whether her venture had + resulted amiss. She only wondered that she had tried aught. And she was + humbled. + </p> + <p> + When she reached Lonesome Cove she found the piggin where she had hid it, + and milked the cow in haste. It was no great task, for the animal was + going dry. “Their'n gins a gallon a milkin',” she said, in rueful + comparison. + </p> + <p> + As she came up the slope with the piggin on her head, her husband was + looking down from the porch with a lowering brow. “Why n't ye spen' the + day a-milkin' the cow?” he drawled. “Dawdlin' yander in the cow-pen till + this time in the mornin'! An' ter-morrer's Chrismus!” + </p> + <p> + The word smote upon her weary heart with a dull pain. She had no cultured + phrase to characterize the sensation as a presentiment, but she was + conscious of the prophetic process. To-night “all the mounting” would be + riotous with that dubious hilarity known as “Chrismus in the bones,” and + there was no telling what might come from the combined orgy and an + inflamed public spirit. + </p> + <p> + She remembered the familiar doom of the mountain horse-thief, the men + lurking on the cliff, the inimical feeling against the ranger. She + furtively watched him with forebodings as he came and went at intervals + throughout the day. + </p> + <p> + Dusk had fallen when he suddenly looked in and beckoned to the “Colonel,” + who required him to take her with him whenever he fed the mare. + </p> + <p> + “Let me tie this hyar comforter over the Cunnel's head,” Eugenia said, as + he bundled the child in a shawl and lifted her in his arms. + </p> + <p> + “Tain't no use,” he declared. “The Cunnel ain't travellin' fur.” + </p> + <p> + She heard him step from the creaking porch. She heard the dreary wind + without. + </p> + <p> + Within, the clumsy shadows of the warping-bars, the spinning-wheel, and + the churn were dancing in the firelight on the wall. The supper was + cooking on the live coals. The children, popping corn in the ashes, were + laughing; as her eye fell upon the “Colonel's” vacant little chair her + mind returned to the child's excursion with her father, and again she + wondered futilely where the mare could be hid. The next moment she was + heartily glad that she did not know. + </p> + <p> + It was like the fulfillment of some dreadful dream when the door opened. A + man entered softly, slowly; the flickering fire showed his shadow—was + it?—nay, another man, and still another, and another. + </p> + <p> + The old crone in the corner sprang up, screaming in a shrill, tremulous, + cracked voice. For they were masked. Over the face of each dangled a bit + of homespun, with great empty sockets through which eyes vaguely glanced. + Even the coarse fibre of the intruders responded to that quavering, + thrilling appeal. One spoke instantly: + </p> + <p> + “Laws-a-massy! Mis' Pearce, don't ye feel interrupted none—nor Mis' + Gryce nuther. We-uns ain't harmful noways—jes want ter know whar + that thar black mare hev disappeared to. She ain't in the barn.” + </p> + <p> + He turned his great eye-sockets on Eugenia. The plaid homespun mask + dangling about his face was grotesquely incongruous with his intent, + serious gaze. + </p> + <p> + “I dunno,” she faltered; “I dunno.” + </p> + <p> + She had caught at the spinning-wheel for support. The fire crackled. The + baby was counting aloud the grains of corn popping from the ashes. “Six, + two, free,” he babbled. The kettle merrily sang. + </p> + <p> + The man still stared silently at the ranger's wife. The expression in his + eyes changed suddenly. He chuckled derisively. The others echoed his + mocking mirth. “Ha! ha! ha!” they laughed aloud; and the eye-sockets in + the homespun masks all glared significantly at each other. Even the dog + detected something sinister in this laughter. He had been sniffing about + the heels of the strangers; he bristled now, showed his teeth, and + growled. The spokesman hastily kicked him in the ribs, and the animal fled + yelping to the farther side of the fireplace behind the baby, where he + stood and barked defiance. The rafters rang with the sound. + </p> + <p> + Some one on the porch without spoke to the leader in a low voice. This + man, who seemed to have a desire to conceal his identity which could not + be served by a mask, held the door with one hand that the wind might not + blow it wide open. The draught fanned the fire. Once the great bowing, + waving white blaze sent a long, quivering line of light through the narrow + aperture, and Eugenia saw the dark lurking figure outside. He had one arm + in a sling. She needed no confirmation to assure her that this was Sam + Peters, whom her husband had shot at the stable door. + </p> + <p> + The leader instantly accepted his suggestion. “Wa'al, Mis' Gryce, I reckon + ye dunno whar Tobe be, nuther?” + </p> + <p> + “Naw, I dunno,” she said, in a tremor. + </p> + <p> + The homespun mask swayed with the distortions of his face as he sneered: + </p> + <p> + “Ye mean ter say ye don't 'low ter tell us.” + </p> + <p> + “I dunno whar he be.” Her voice had sunk to a whisper. + </p> + <p> + Another exchange of glances. + </p> + <p> + “Wa'al, ma'am, jes gin us the favor of a light by yer fire, an' we-uns 'll + find him.” + </p> + <p> + He stepped swiftly forward, thrust a pine torch into the coals, and with + it all whitely flaring ran out into the night; the others followed his + example; and the terror-stricken women, hastily barring up the door, + peered after them through the little batten shutter of the window. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + The torches were already scattered about the slopes of Lonesome Cove like + a fallen constellation. What shafts of white light they cast upon the snow + in the midst of the dense blackness of the night! Somehow they seemed + endowed with volition, as they moved hither and thither, for their + brilliancy almost cancelled the figures of the men that bore them—only + an occasional erratic shapeless shadow was visible. Now and then a flare + pierced the icicle-tipped holly bushes, and again there was a fibrous + glimmer in the fringed pines. + </p> + <p> + The search was terribly silent. The snow deadened the tread. Only the wind + was loud among the muffled trees, and sometimes a dull thud sounded when + the weight of snow fell from the evergreen laurel as the men thrashed + through its dense growth. They separated after a time, and only here and + there an isolated stellular light illumined the snow, and conjured white + mystic circles into the wide spaces of the darkness. The effort flagged at + last, and its futility sharpened the sense of injury in Luke Todd's heart. + </p> + <p> + He was alone now, close upon the great rock, and looking at its jagged + ledges all cloaked with snow. Above those soft white outlines drawn + against the deep clear sky the frosty stars scintillated. Beneath were the + abysmal depths of the valley masked by the darkness. + </p> + <p> + His pride was touched. In the old quarrel his revenge had been hampered, + for it was the girl's privilege to choose, and she had chosen. He cared + nothing for that now, but he felt it indeed a reproach to tamely let this + man take his horse when he had all the mountain at his back. There was a + sharp humiliation in his position. He felt the pressure of public opinion. + </p> + <p> + “Dad-burn him!” he exclaimed. “Ef I kin make out ter git a glimge o' him, + I'll shoot him dead—dead!” + </p> + <p> + He leaned the rifle against the rock. It struck upon a ledge. A metallic + vibration rang out. Again and again the sound was repeated—now loud, + still clanging; now faint, but clear; now soft and away to a doubtful + murmur which he hardly was sure that he heard. Never before had he known + such an echo. And suddenly he recollected that this was the great “Talking + Rock,” famed beyond the limits of Lonesome. It had traditions as well as + echoes. He remembered vaguely that beneath this cliff there was said to be + a cave which was utilized in the manufacture of saltpetre for gunpowder in + the War of 1812. + </p> + <p> + As he looked down the slope below he thought the snow seemed broken—by + footprints, was it? With the expectation of a discovery strong upon him, + he crept along a wide ledge of the crag, now and then stumbling and + sending an avalanche of snow and ice and stones thundering to the foot of + the cliff..He missed his way more than once. Then he would turn about, + laboriously retracing his steps, and try another level of the ledges. + Suddenly before him was the dark opening he sought. No creature had lately + been here. It was filled with growing bushes and dead leaves and brambles. + Looking again down upon the slope beneath, he felt very sure that he saw + footprints. + </p> + <p> + “The old folks useter 'low ez thar war two openings ter this hyar cave,” + he said. “Tobe Gryce mought hev hid hyar through a opening down yan-der on + the slope. But <i>I'll</i> go the way ez I hev hearn tell on, an' peek in, + an' ef I kin git a glimge o' him, I'll make him tell me whar that thar + filly air,—or I'll let daylight through him, sure!” + </p> + <p> + He paused only to bend aside the brambles, then he crept in and took his + way along a low, narrow passage. It had many windings, but was without + intersections or intricacy. He heard his own steps echoed like a pursuing + footfall. His labored breathing returned in sighs from the inanimate + rocks. It was an uncanny place, with strange, sepulchral, solemn effects. + He shivered with the cold. A draught stole in from some secret crevice + known only to the wild mountain winds. The torch flared, crouched before + the gust, flared again, then darkness. He hesitated, took one step + forward, and suddenly—a miracle! + </p> + <p> + A soft aureola with gleaming radiations, a low, shadowy chamber, a beast + feeding from a manger, and within it a child's golden head. + </p> + <p> + His heart gave a great throb. Somehow he was smitten to his knees. + Christmas Eve! He remembered the day with a rush of emotion. He stared + again at the vouchsafed vision. He rubbed his eyes. It had changed. + </p> + <p> + Only hallucination caused by an abrupt transition from darkness to light; + only the most mundane facts of the old troughs and ash-hoppers, relics of + the industry that had served the hideous carnage of battle; only the + yellow head of the ranger's brat, who had climbed into one of them, from + which the mare was calmly munching her corn. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%"> + <img src="images/201.jpg" alt="Yet This Was Christmas Eve 201 " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + Yet this was Christmas Eve. And the Child did lie in a manger. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps it was well for him that his ignorant faith could accept the + illusion as a vision charged with all the benignities of peace on earth, + good-will toward men. With a keen thrill in his heart, on his knees he + drew the charge from his rifle, and flung it down a rift in the rocks. + “Chrismus Eve,” he murmured. + </p> + <p> + He leaned his empty weapon against the wall, and strode out to the little + girl who was perched up on the trough. + </p> + <p> + “Chrismus gift, Cunnel!” he cried, cheerily. “Ter-morrer's Chrismus.” + </p> + <p> + The echoes caught the word. In vibratory jubilance they repeated it. + “Chrismus!” rang from the roof, scintillating with calcspar; “Chrismus!” + sounded from the colonnade of stalactites that hung down to meet the + uprising stalagmites; “Chrismus!” repeated the walls incrusted with roses + that, shut in from the light and the fresh air of heaven, bloomed forever + in the stone. Was ever chorus so sweet as this? + </p> + <p> + It reached Tobe Gryce, who stood at his improvised corn-bin. With a bundle + of fodder still in his arms he stepped forward. There beside the little + Colonel and the black mare he beheld a man seated upon an inverted + half-bushel measure, peacefully lighting his pipe with a bunch of straws + which he kindled at the lantern on the ash-hopper. + </p> + <p> + The ranger's black eyes were wide with wonder at this intrusion, and + angrily flashed. He connected it at once with the attack on the stable. + The hair on his low forehead rose bristlingly as he frowned. Yet he + realized with a quaking heart that he was helpless. He, although the crack + shot of the county, would not have fired while the Colonel was within two + yards of his mark for the State of Tennessee. + </p> + <p> + He stood his ground with stolid courage—a target. + </p> + <p> + Then, with a start of surprise, he perceived that the intruder was + unarmed. Twenty feet away his rifle stood against the wall. + </p> + <p> + Tobe Gryce was strangely shaken. He experienced a sudden revolt of + credulity. This was surely a dream. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't that thar Luke Todd? Why air ye a-wait-in' thar?” he called out in + a husky undertone. + </p> + <p> + Todd glanced up, and took his pipe from his mouth; it was now fairly + alight. + </p> + <p> + “Kase it be Chrismus Eve, Tobe,” he said, gravely. + </p> + <p> + The ranger stared for a moment; then came forward and gave the fodder to + the mare, pausing now and then and looking with oblique distrust down upon + Luke Todd as he smoked his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “I want ter tell ye, Tobe, ez some o' the mounting boys air a-sarchin fur + ye outside.” + </p> + <p> + “Who air they?” asked the ranger, calmly. + </p> + <p> + His tone was so natural, his manner so unsuspecting, that a new doubt + began to stir in Luke Todd's mind. + </p> + <p> + “What ails ye ter keep the mare down hyar, Tobe?” he asked, suddenly. + “Tears like ter me ez that be powerful comical.” + </p> + <p> + “Kase,” said Tobe, reasonably, “some durned horse-thieves kem arter her + one night. I fired at t'em. I hain't hearn on 'em sence. An' so I jes hid + the mare.” + </p> + <p> + Todd was puzzled. He shifted his pipe in his mouth. Finally he said: “Some + folks 'lowed ez ye hed no right ter take up that mare, bein' ez ye war the + ranger.” + </p> + <p> + Tobe Gryce whirled round abruptly. “What war I a-goin' ter do, then? Feed + the critter fur nuthin till the triflin' scamp ez owned her kem arter her? + I couldn't work her 'thout takin' her up an' hevin her appraised. Thar's a + law agin sech. An' I couldn't git somebody ter toll her off an' take her + up. That ain't fair. What ought I ter hev done?” + </p> + <p> + “Wa'al,” said Luke, drifting into argument, “the town-folks 'low ez ye hev + got nuthin ter prove it by, the stray-book an' records bein' burnt. The + town-folks 'low ez ye can't prove by writin' an' sech ez ye ever tried ter + find the owner.” “The town-folks air fairly sodden in foolishness,” + exclaimed the ranger, indignantly. + </p> + <p> + He drew from his ample pocket a roll of ragged newspapers, and pointed + with his great thumb at a paragraph. And Luke Todd read by the light of + the lantern the advertisement and description of the estray printed + according to law in the nearest newspaper. + </p> + <p> + The newspaper was so infrequent a factor in the lives of the mountain + gossips that this refutation of their theory had never occurred to them. + </p> + <p> + The sheet was trembling in Luke Todd's hand; his eyes filled. The cavern + with its black distances, its walls close at hand sparkling with delicate + points of whitest light; the yellow flare of the lantern; the grotesque + shadows on the ground; the fair little girl with her golden hair; the + sleek black mare; the burly figure of the ranger—all the scene + swayed before him. He remembered the gracious vision that had saluted him; + he shuddered at the crime from which he was rescued. Pity him because he + knew naught of the science of optics; of the bewildering effects of a + sudden burst of light upon the delicate mechanism of the eye; of the + vagaries of illusion. + </p> + <p> + “Tobe,” he said, in a solemn voice—all the echoes were bated to awed + whispers—“I hev been gin ter view a vision this night, bein' 'twar + Chris-mus Eve. An' now I want ter shake hands on it fur peace.” + </p> + <p> + Then he told the whole story, regardless of the ranger's demonstrations, + albeit they were sometimes violent enough. Tobe sprang up with a snort of + rage, his eyes flashing, his thick tongue stumbling with the curses + crowding upon it, when he realized the suspicions rife against him at the + county town. But he stood with his clinched hand slowly relaxing, and with + the vague expression which one wears who looks into the past, as he + listened to the recital of Eugenia's pilgrimage in the snowy wintry dawn. + “Mighty few folks hev got a wife ez set store by 'em like that,” Luke + remarked, impersonally. + </p> + <p> + The ranger's rejoinder seemed irrelevant. + </p> + <p> + “'Genie be a-goin' ter see a powerful differ arter this,” he said, and + fell to musing. + </p> + <p> + Snow, fatigue, and futility destroyed the ardor of the lynching party + after a time, and they dispersed to their homes. Little was said of this + expedition afterward, and it became quite impossible to find a man who + would admit having joined it. For the story went the rounds of the + mountain that there had been a mistake as to unfair dealing on the part of + the ranger, and Luke Todd was quite content to accept from the county + treasury half the sum of the mare's appraisement—with the deduction + of the stipulated per cent.—which Tobe Gryce had paid, the receipt + for which he produced. + </p> + <p> + The gossips complained, however, that after all this was settled according + to law, Tobe wouldn't keep the mare, and insisted that Luke should return + to him the money he had paid into the treasury, half her value, “bein' so + brigaty he wouldn't own Luke Todd's beast. An' Luke agreed ter so do; but + he didn't want ter be outdone, so fur the keep o' the filly he gin the + Cunnel a heifer. An' Tobe war mighty nigh tickled ter death fur the Cunnel + ter hev a cow o' her own.” + </p> + <p> + And now when December skies darken above Lonesome Cove, and the snow in + dizzying whirls sifts softly down, and the gaunt brown leafless heights + are clothed with white as with a garment, and the wind whistles and shouts + shrilly, and above the great crag loom the distant mountains, and below + are glimpsed the long stretches of the valley, the two men remember the + vision that illumined the cavernous solitudes that night, and bless the + gracious power that sent salvation 'way down to Lonesome Cove, and cherish + peace and good-will for the sake of a little Child that lay in a manger. + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of 'way Down In Lonesome Cove, by +Charles Egbert Craddock (AKA Mary Noailles Murfree) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'WAY DOWN IN LONESOME COVE *** + +***** This file should be named 23632-h.htm or 23632-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/6/3/23632/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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