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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/324-0.txt b/324-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8f27ac2 --- /dev/null +++ b/324-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2668 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Knight of the Cumberland, by John Fox Jr. + +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: A Knight of the Cumberland + +Author: John Fox Jr. + +Release Date: July 6, 2008 [EBook #324] +Last Updated: March 14, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND *** + + + + +Produced by Mike Lough + + + + + +A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND + +By John Fox, Jr. + + + +CONTENTS + + + + I. The Blight in the Hills + II. On the Wild Dog's Trail + III. The Auricular Talent of the Hon. Samuel Budd + IV. Close Quarters + V. Back to the Hills + VI. The Great Day + VII. At Last--The Tournament + VIII. The Knight Passes + + + + + +A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND + + + + +I. THE BLIGHT IN THE HILLS + +High noon of a crisp October day, sunshine flooding the earth with +the warmth and light of old wine and, going single-file up through +the jagged gap that the dripping of water has worn down through the +Cumberland Mountains from crest to valley-level, a gray horse and two +big mules, a man and two young girls. On the gray horse, I led the +tortuous way. After me came my small sister--and after her and like +her, mule-back, rode the Blight--dressed as she would be for a gallop in +Central Park or to ride a hunter in a horse show. + +I was taking them, according to promise, where the feet of other women +than mountaineers had never trod--beyond the crest of the Big Black--to +the waters of the Cumberland--the lair of moonshiner and feudsman, where +is yet pocketed a civilization that, elsewhere, is long ago gone. This +had been a pet dream of the Blight's for a long time, and now the dream +was coming true. The Blight was in the hills. + + +Nobody ever went to her mother's house without asking to see her even +when she was a little thing with black hair, merry face and black eyes. +Both men and women, with children of their own, have told me that she +was, perhaps, the most fascinating child that ever lived. There be some +who claim that she has never changed--and I am among them. She began +early, regardless of age, sex or previous condition of servitude--she +continues recklessly as she began--and none makes complaint. Thus was +it in her own world--thus it was when she came to mine. On the way +down from the North, the conductor's voice changed from a command to +a request when he asked for her ticket. The jacketed lord of the +dining-car saw her from afar and advanced to show her to a seat--that +she might ride forward, sit next to a shaded window and be free from the +glare of the sun on the other side. Two porters made a rush for her bag +when she got off the car, and the proprietor of the little hotel in the +little town where we had to wait several hours for the train into the +mountains gave her the bridal chamber for an afternoon nap. From this +little town to “The Gap” is the worst sixty-mile ride, perhaps, in the +world. She sat in a dirty day-coach; the smoke rolled in at the windows +and doors; the cars shook and swayed and lumbered around curves and +down and up gorges; there were about her rough men, crying children, +slatternly women, tobacco juice, peanuts, popcorn and apple cores, but +dainty, serene and as merry as ever, she sat through that ride with a +radiant smile, her keen black eyes noting everything unlovely within and +the glory of hill, tree and chasm without. Next morning at home, where +we rise early, no one was allowed to waken her and she had breakfast in +bed--for the Blight's gentle tyranny was established on sight and varied +not at the Gap. + +When she went down the street that day everybody stared surreptitiously +and with perfect respect, as her dainty black plumed figure passed; the +post-office clerk could barely bring himself to say that there was no +letter for her. The soda-fountain boy nearly filled her glass with syrup +before he saw that he was not strictly minding his own business; the +clerk, when I bought chocolate for her, unblushingly added extra weight +and, as we went back, she met them both--Marston, the young engineer +from the North, crossing the street and, at the same moment, a drunken +young tough with an infuriated face reeling in a run around the corner +ahead of us as though he were being pursued. Now we have a volunteer +police guard some forty strong at the Gap--and from habit, I started +for him, but the Blight caught my arm tight. The young engineer in three +strides had reached the curb-stone and all he sternly said was: + +“Here! Here!” + +The drunken youth wheeled and his right hand shot toward his hip pocket. +The engineer was belted with a pistol, but with one lightning movement +and an incredibly long reach, his right fist caught the fellow's jaw +so that he pitched backward and collapsed like an empty bag. Then the +engineer caught sight of the Blight's bewildered face, flushed, gripped +his hands in front of him and simply stared. At last he saw me: + +“Oh,” he said, “how do you do?” and he turned to his prisoner, but the +panting sergeant and another policeman--also a volunteer--were already +lifting him to his feet. I introduced the boy and the Blight then, and +for the first time in my life I saw the Blight--shaken. Round-eyed, she +merely gazed at him. + +“That was pretty well done,” I said. + +“Oh, he was drunk and I knew he would be slow.” Now something curious +happened. The dazed prisoner was on his feet, and his captors were +starting with him to the calaboose when he seemed suddenly to come to +his senses. + +“Jes wait a minute, will ye?” he said quietly, and his captors, thinking +perhaps that he wanted to say something to me, stopped. The mountain +youth turned a strangely sobered face and fixed his blue eyes on the +engineer as though he were searing every feature of that imperturbable +young man in his brain forever. It was not a bad face, but the avenging +hatred in it was fearful. Then he, too, saw the Blight, his face calmed +magically and he, too, stared at her, and turned away with an oath +checked at his lips. We went on--the Blight thrilled, for she had heard +much of our volunteer force at the Gap and had seen something already. +Presently I looked back. Prisoner and captors were climbing the little +hill toward the calaboose and the mountain boy just then turned his head +and I could swear that his eyes sought not the engineer, whom we left +at the corner, but, like the engineer, he was looking at the Blight. +Whereat I did not wonder--particularly as to the engineer. He had been +in the mountains for a long time and I knew what this vision from home +meant to him. He turned up at the house quite early that night. + +“I'm not on duty until eleven,” he said hesitantly, “and I thought +I'd----” + +“Come right in.” + +I asked him a few questions about business and then I left him and the +Blight alone. When I came back she had a Gatling gun of eager questions +ranged on him and--happy withal--he was squirming no little. I followed +him to the gate. + +“Are you really going over into those God-forsaken mountains?” he asked. + +“I thought I would.” + +“And you are going to take HER?” + +“And my sister.” + +“Oh, I beg your pardon.” He strode away. + +“Coming up by the mines?” he called back. + +“Perhaps will you show us around?” + +“I guess I will,” he said emphatically, and he went on to risk his neck +on a ten-mile ride along a mountain road in the dark. + +“I LIKE a man,” said the Blight. “I like a MAN.” + +Of course the Blight must see everything, so she insisted on going to +the police court next morning for the trial of the mountain boy. The boy +was in the witness chair when we got there, and the Hon. Samuel Budd was +his counsel. He had volunteered to defend the prisoner, I was soon told, +and then I understood. The November election was not far off and the +Hon. Samuel Budd was candidate for legislature. More even, the boy's +father was a warm supporter of Mr. Budd and the boy himself might +perhaps render good service in the cause when the time came--as indeed +he did. On one of the front chairs sat the young engineer and it was a +question whether he or the prisoner saw the Blight's black plumes first. +The eyes of both flashed toward her simultaneously, the engineer colored +perceptibly and the mountain boy stopped short in speech and his pallid +face flushed with unmistakable shame. Then he went on: “He had liquered +up,” he said, “and had got tight afore he knowed it and he didn't mean +no harm and had never been arrested afore in his whole life.” + +“Have you ever been drunk before?” asked the prosecuting attorney +severely. The lad looked surprised. + +“Co'se I have, but I ain't goin' to agin--leastwise not in this here +town.” There was a general laugh at this and the aged mayor rapped +loudly. + +“That will do,” said the attorney. + +The lad stepped down, hitched his chair slightly so that his back was +to the Blight, sank down in it until his head rested on the back of the +chair and crossed his legs. The Hon. Samuel Budd arose and the Blight +looked at him with wonder. His long yellow hair was parted in the middle +and brushed with plaster-like precision behind two enormous ears, he +wore spectacles, gold-rimmed and with great staring lenses, and his face +was smooth and ageless. He caressed his chin ruminatingly and rolled +his lips until they settled into a fine resultant of wisdom, patience, +toleration and firmness. His manner was profound and his voice oily and +soothing. + +“May it please your Honor--my young friend frankly pleads guilty.” He +paused as though the majesty of the law could ask no more. “He is +a young man of naturally high and somewhat--naturally, too, no +doubt--bibulous spirits. Homoepathically--if inversely--the result was +logical. In the untrammelled life of the liberty-breathing mountains, +where the stern spirit of law and order, of which your Honor is the +august symbol, does not prevail as it does here--thanks to your Honor's +wise and just dispensations--the lad has, I may say, naturally acquired +a certain recklessness of mood--indulgence which, however easily +condoned there, must here be sternly rebuked. At the same time, he knew +not the conditions here, he became exhilarated without malice, prepensey +or even, I may say, consciousness. He would not have done as he has, +if he had known what he knows now, and, knowing, he will not repeat the +offence. I need say no more. I plead simply that your Honor will temper +the justice that is only yours with the mercy that is yours--only.” + +His Honor was visibly affected and to cover it--his methods being +informal--he said with sharp irrelevancy: + +“Who bailed this young feller out last night?” The sergeant spoke: + +“Why, Mr. Marston thar”--with outstretched finger toward the young +engineer. The Blight's black eyes leaped with exultant appreciation and +the engineer turned crimson. His Honor rolled his quid around in his +mouth once, and peered over his glasses: + +“I fine this young feller two dollars and costs.” The young fellow had +turned slowly in his chair and his blue eyes blazed at the engineer with +unappeasable hatred. I doubt if he had heard his Honor's voice. + +“I want ye to know that I'm obleeged to ye an' I ain't a-goin' to fergit +it; but if I'd a known hit was you I'd a stayed in jail an' seen you in +hell afore I'd a been bounden to ye.” + +“Ten dollars fer contempt of couht.” The boy was hot now. + +“Oh, fine and be--” The Hon. Samuel Budd had him by the shoulder, the +boy swallowed his voice and his starting tears of rage, and after a +whisper to his Honor, the Hon. Samuel led him out. Outside, the engineer +laughed to the Blight: + +“Pretty peppery, isn't he?” but the Blight said nothing, and later we +saw the youth on a gray horse crossing the bridge and conducted by the +Hon. Samuel Budd, who stopped and waved him toward the mountains. The +boy went on and across the plateau, the gray Gap swallowed him. That +night, at the post-office, the Hon. Sam plucked me aside by the sleeve. + +“I know Marston is agin me in this race--but I'll do him a good turn +just the same. You tell him to watch out for that young fellow. He's all +right when he's sober, but when he's drunk--well, over in Kentucky, they +call him the Wild Dog.” + + +Several days later we started out through that same Gap. The glum +stableman looked at the Blight's girths three times, and with my own +eyes starting and my heart in my mouth, I saw her pass behind her +sixteen-hand-high mule and give him a friendly tap on the rump as she +went by. The beast gave an appreciative flop of one ear and that +was all. Had I done that, any further benefit to me or mine would be +incorporated in the terms of an insurance policy. So, stating this, I +believe I state the limit and can now go on to say at last that it was +because she seemed to be loved by man and brute alike that a big man of +her own town, whose body, big as it was, was yet too small for his heart +and from whose brain things went off at queer angles, always christened +her perversely as--“The Blight.” + + + + +II. ON THE WILD DOG'S TRAIL + +So up we went past Bee Rock, Preacher's Creek and Little Looney, past +the mines where high on a “tipple” stood the young engineer looking down +at us, and looking after the Blight as we passed on into a dim rocky +avenue walled on each side with rhododendrons. I waved at him and shook +my head--we would see him coming back. Beyond a deserted log-cabin we +turned up a spur of the mountain. Around a clump of bushes we came on +a gray-bearded mountaineer holding his horse by the bridle and from a +covert high above two more men appeared with Winchesters. The Blight +breathed forth an awed whisper: + +“Are they moonshiners?” + +I nodded sagely, “Most likely,” and the Blight was thrilled. They might +have been squirrel-hunters most innocent, but the Blight had heard much +talk of moonshine stills and mountain feuds and the men who run them +and I took the risk of denying her nothing. Up and up we went, those +two mules swaying from side to side with a motion little short of +elephantine and, by and by, the Blight called out: + +“You ride ahead and don't you DARE look back.” + +Accustomed to obeying the Blight's orders, I rode ahead with eyes to +the front. Presently, a shriek made me turn suddenly. It was nothing--my +little sister's mule had gone near a steep cliff--perilously near, as +its rider thought, but I saw why I must not look back; those two little +girls were riding astride on side-saddles, the booted little right foot +of each dangling stirrupless--a posture quite decorous but ludicrous. + +“Let us know if anybody comes,” they cried. A mountaineer descended into +sight around a loop of the path above. + +“Change cars,” I shouted. + +They changed and, passing, were grave, demure--then they changed again, +and thus we climbed. + +Such a glory as was below, around and above us; the air like champagne; +the sunlight rich and pouring like a flood on the gold that the beeches +had strewn in the path, on the gold that the poplars still shook high +above and shimmering on the royal scarlet of the maple and the sombre +russet of the oak. From far below us to far above us a deep curving +ravine was slashed into the mountain side as by one stroke of a gigantic +scimitar. The darkness deep down was lighted up with cool green, +interfused with liquid gold. Russet and yellow splashed the mountain +sides beyond and high up the maples were in a shaking blaze. The +Blight's swift eyes took all in and with indrawn breath she drank it all +deep down. + +An hour by sun we were near the top, which was bared of trees and +turned into rich farm-land covered with blue-grass. Along these upland +pastures, dotted with grazing cattle, and across them we rode toward the +mountain wildernesses on the other side, down into which a zigzag path +wriggles along the steep front of Benham's spur. At the edge of the +steep was a cabin and a bushy-bearded mountaineer, who looked like +a brigand, answered my hail. He “mought” keep us all night, but he'd +“ruther not, as we could git a place to stay down the spur.” Could we +get down before dark? The mountaineer lifted his eyes to where the sun +was breaking the horizon of the west into streaks and splashes of yellow +and crimson. + +“Oh, yes, you can git thar afore dark.” + +Now I knew that the mountaineer's idea of distance is vague--but he +knows how long it takes to get from one place to another. So we started +down--dropping at once into thick dark woods, and as we went looping +down, the deeper was the gloom. That sun had suddenly severed all +connection with the laws of gravity and sunk, and it was all the darker +because the stars were not out. The path was steep and coiled downward +like a wounded snake. In one place a tree had fallen across it, and to +reach the next coil of the path below was dangerous. So I had the +girls dismount and I led the gray horse down on his haunches. The mules +refused to follow, which was rather unusual. I went back and from a safe +distance in the rear I belabored them down. They cared neither for gray +horse nor crooked path, but turned of their own devilish wills along the +bushy mountain side. As I ran after them the gray horse started calmly +on down and those two girls shrieked with laughter--they knew no better. +First one way and then the other down the mountain went those mules, +with me after them, through thick bushes, over logs, stumps and bowlders +and holes--crossing the path a dozen times. What that path was there for +never occurred to those long-eared half asses, whole fools, and by and +by, when the girls tried to shoo them down they clambered around and +above them and struck the path back up the mountain. The horse had +gone down one way, the mules up the other, and there was no health in +anything. The girls could not go up--so there was nothing to do but go +down, which, hard as it was, was easier than going up. The path was not +visible now. Once in a while I would stumble from it and crash through +the bushes to the next coil below. Finally I went down, sliding one foot +ahead all the time--knowing that when leaves rustled under that foot I +was on the point of going astray. Sometimes I had to light a match to +make sure of the way, and thus the ridiculous descent was made with +those girls in high spirits behind. Indeed, the darker, rockier, steeper +it got, the more they shrieked from pure joy--but I was anything than +happy. It was dangerous. I didn't know the cliffs and high rocks we +might skirt and an unlucky guidance might land us in the creek-bed far +down. But the blessed stars came out, the moon peered over a farther +mountain and on the last spur there was the gray horse browsing in the +path--and the sound of running water not far below. Fortunately on the +gray horse were the saddle-bags of the chattering infants who thought +the whole thing a mighty lark. We reached the running water, struck a +flock of geese and knew, in consequence, that humanity was somewhere +near. A few turns of the creek and a beacon light shone below. The pales +of a picket fence, the cheering outlines of a log-cabin came in view and +at a peaked gate I shouted: + +“Hello!” + +You enter no mountaineer's yard without that announcing cry. It was +mediaeval, the Blight said, positively--two lorn damsels, a benighted +knight partially stripped of his armor by bush and sharp-edged rock, +a gray palfrey (she didn't mention the impatient asses that had turned +homeward) and she wished I had a horn to wind. I wanted a “horn” badly +enough--but it was not the kind men wind. By and by we got a response: + +“Hello!” was the answer, as an opened door let out into the yard a broad +band of light. Could we stay all night? The voice replied that the owner +would see “Pap.” “Pap” seemed willing, and the boy opened the gate +and into the house went the Blight and the little sister. Shortly, I +followed. + +There, all in one room, lighted by a huge wood-fire, rafters above, +puncheon floor beneath--cane-bottomed chairs and two beds the only +furniture-“pap,” barefooted, the old mother in the chimney-corner with +a pipe, strings of red pepper-pods, beans and herbs hanging around +and above, a married daughter with a child at her breast, two or three +children with yellow hair and bare feet all looking with all their eyes +at the two visitors who had dropped upon them from another world. The +Blight's eyes were brighter than usual--that was the only sign she gave +that she was not in her own drawing-room. Apparently she saw nothing +strange or unusual even, but there was really nothing that she did not +see or hear and absorb, as few others than the Blight can. + +Straightway, the old woman knocked the ashes out of her pipe. + +“I reckon you hain't had nothin' to eat,” she said and disappeared. The +old man asked questions, the young mother rocked her baby on her knees, +the children got less shy and drew near the fireplace, the Blight and +the little sister exchanged a furtive smile and the contrast of the +extremes in American civilization, as shown in that little cabin, +interested me mightily. + +“Yer snack's ready,” said the old woman. The old man carried the chairs +into the kitchen, and when I followed the girls were seated. The chairs +were so low that their chins came barely over their plates, and demure +and serious as they were they surely looked most comical. There was the +usual bacon and corn-bread and potatoes and sour milk, and the two girls +struggled with the rude fare nobly. + +After supper I joined the old man and the old woman with a +pipe--exchanging my tobacco for their long green with more satisfaction +probably to me than to them, for the long green was good, and strong and +fragrant. + +The old woman asked the Blight and the little sister many questions and +they, in turn, showed great interest in the baby in arms, whereat the +eighteen-year-old mother blushed and looked greatly pleased. + +“You got mighty purty black eyes,” said the old woman to the Blight, +and not to slight the little sister she added, “An' you got mighty purty +teeth.” + +The Blight showed hers in a radiant smile and the old woman turned back +to her. + +“Oh, you've got both,” she said and she shook her head, as though she +were thinking of the damage they had done. It was my time now--to ask +questions. + +They didn't have many amusements on that creek, I discovered--and +no dances. Sometimes the boys went coon-hunting and there were +corn-shuckings, house-raisings and quilting-parties. + +“Does anybody round here play the banjo?” + +“None o' my boys,” said the old woman, “but Tom Green's son down the +creek--he follers pickin' the banjo a leetle.” “Follows pickin' “--the +Blight did not miss that phrase. + +“What do you foller fer a livin'?” the old man asked me suddenly. + +“I write for a living.” He thought a while. + +“Well, it must be purty fine to have a good handwrite.” This nearly +dissolved the Blight and the little sister, but they held on heroically. + +“Is there much fighting around here?” I asked presently. + +“Not much 'cept when one young feller up the river gets to tearin' up +things. I heerd as how he was over to the Gap last week--raisin' +hell. He comes by here on his way home.” The Blight's eyes opened +wide--apparently we were on his trail. It is not wise for a member of +the police guard at the Gap to show too much curiosity about the lawless +ones of the hills, and I asked no questions. + +“They calls him the Wild Dog over here,” he added, and then he yawned +cavernously. + +I looked around with divining eye for the sleeping arrangements soon to +come, which sometimes are embarrassing to “furriners” who are unable to +grasp at once the primitive unconsciousness of the mountaineers and, in +consequence, accept a point of view natural to them because enforced by +architectural limitations and a hospitality that turns no one seeking +shelter from any door. They were, however, better prepared than I had +hoped for. They had a spare room on the porch and just outside the door, +and when the old woman led the two girls to it, I followed with their +saddle-bags. The room was about seven feet by six and was windowless. + +“You'd better leave your door open a little,” I said, “or you'll smother +in there.” + +“Well,” said the old woman, “hit's all right to leave the door open. +Nothin's goin' ter bother ye, but one o' my sons is out a coon-huntin' +and he mought come in, not knowin' you're thar. But you jes' holler an' +he'll move on.” She meant precisely what she said and saw no humor at +all in such a possibility--but when the door closed, I could hear those +girls stifling shrieks of laughter. + +Literally, that night, I was a member of the family. I had a bed to +myself (the following night I was not so fortunate)--in one corner; +behind the head of mine the old woman, the daughter-in-law and the +baby had another in the other corner, and the old man with the two boys +spread a pallet on the floor. That is the invariable rule of courtesy +with the mountaineer, to give his bed to the stranger and take to +the floor himself, and, in passing, let me say that never, in a +long experience, have I seen the slightest consciousness--much less +immodesty--in a mountain cabin in my life. The same attitude on the +part of the visitors is taken for granted--any other indeed holds mortal +possibilities of offence--so that if the visitor has common sense, all +embarrassment passes at once. The door was closed, the fire blazed on +uncovered, the smothered talk and laughter of the two girls ceased, the +coon-hunter came not and the night passed in peace. + +It must have been near daybreak that I was aroused by the old man +leaving the cabin and I heard voices and the sound of horses' feet +outside. When he came back he was grinning. + +“Hit's your mules.” + +“Who found them?” + +“The Wild Dog had 'em,” he said. + + + + +III. THE AURICULAR TALENT OF THE HON. SAMUEL BUDD + +Behind us came the Hon. Samuel Budd. Just when the sun was slitting the +east with a long streak of fire, the Hon. Samuel was, with the jocund +day, standing tiptoe in his stirrups on the misty mountain top and +peering into the ravine down which we had slid the night before, and he +grumbled no little when he saw that he, too, must get off his horse +and slide down. The Hon. Samuel was ambitious, Southern, and a lawyer. +Without saying, it goes that he was also a politician. He was not a +native of the mountains, but he had cast his fortunes in the highlands, +and he was taking the first step that he hoped would, before many +years, land him in the National Capitol. He really knew little about the +mountaineers, even now, and he had never been among his constituents on +Devil's Fork, where he was bound now. The campaign had so far been full +of humor and full of trials--not the least of which sprang from the fact +that it was sorghum time. Everybody through the mountains was making +sorghum, and every mountain child was eating molasses. + +Now, as the world knows, the straightest way to the heart of the honest +voter is through the women of the land, and the straightest way to the +heart of the women is through the children of the land; and one method +of winning both, with rural politicians, is to kiss the babies wide and +far. So as each infant, at sorghum time, has a circle of green-brown +stickiness about his chubby lips, and as the Hon. Sam was averse to +“long sweetenin'” even in his coffee, this particular political device +just now was no small trial to the Hon. Samuel Budd. But in the language +of one of his firmest supporters Uncle Tommie Hendricks: + +“The Hon. Sam done his duty, and he done it damn well.” + +The issue at stake was the site of the new Court-House--two localities +claiming the right undisputed, because they were the only two places +in the county where there was enough level land for the Court-House +to stand on. Let no man think this a trivial issue. There had been a +similar one over on the Virginia side once, and the opposing factions +agreed to decide the question by the ancient wager of battle, fist and +skull--two hundred men on each side--and the women of the county with +difficulty prevented the fight. Just now, Mr. Budd was on his way to +“The Pocket”--the voting place of one faction--where he had never been, +where the hostility against him was most bitter, and, that day, he knew +he was “up against” Waterloo, the crossing of the Rubicon, holding the +pass at Thermopylae, or any other historical crisis in the history of +man. I was saddling the mules when the cackling of geese in the creek +announced the coming of the Hon. Samuel Budd, coming with his chin on +his breast-deep in thought. Still his eyes beamed cheerily, he lifted +his slouched hat gallantly to the Blight and the little sister, and he +would wait for us to jog along with him. I told him of our troubles, +meanwhile. The Wild Dog had restored our mules and the Hon. Sam beamed: + +“He's a wonder--where is he?” + +“He never waited--even for thanks.” + +Again the Hon. Sam beamed: + +“Ah! just like him. He's gone ahead to help me.” + +“Well, how did he happen to be here?” I asked. + +“He's everywhere,” said the Hon. Sam. + +“How did he know the mules were ours?” + +“Easy. That boy knows everything.” + +“Well, why did he bring them back and then leave so mysteriously?” + +The Hon. Sam silently pointed a finger at the laughing Blight ahead, and +I looked incredulous. + +“Just the same, that's another reason I told you to warn Marston. He's +already got it in his head that Marston is his rival.” + +“Pshaw!” I said--for it was too ridiculous. + +“All right,” said the Hon. Sam placidly. + +“Then why doesn't he want to see her?” “How do you know he ain't +watchin' her now, for all we know? Mark me,” he added, “you won't see +him at the speakin', but I'll bet fruit cake agin gingerbread he'll be +somewhere around.” + +So we went on, the two girls leading the way and the Hon. Sam now +telling his political troubles to me. Half a mile down the road, a +solitary horseman stood waiting, and Mr. Budd gave a low whistle. + +“One o' my rivals,” he said, from the corner of his mouth. + +“Mornin',” said the horseman; “lemme see you a minute.” + +He made a movement to draw aside, but the Hon. Samuel made a +counter-gesture of dissent. + +“This gentleman is a friend of mine,” he said firmly, but with great +courtesy, “and he can hear what you have to say to me.” + +The mountaineer rubbed one huge hand over his stubbly chin, threw one of +his long legs over the pommel of his saddle, and dangled a heavy cowhide +shoe to and fro. + +“Would you mind tellin' me whut pay a member of the House of Legislatur' +gits a day?” + +The Hon. Sam looked surprised. + +“I think about two dollars and a half.” + +“An' his meals?” + +“No!” laughed Mr. Budd. + +“Well, look-ee here, stranger. I'm a pore man an' I've got a mortgage +on my farm. That money don't mean nothin' to you--but if you'll draw out +now an' I win, I'll tell ye whut I'll do.” He paused as though to make +sure that the sacrifice was possible. “I'll just give ye half of that +two dollars and a half a day, as shore as you're a-settin' on that hoss, +and you won't hav' to hit a durn lick to earn it.” + +I had not the heart to smile--nor did the Hon. Samuel--so artless and +simple was the man and so pathetic his appeal. + +“You see--you'll divide my vote, an' ef we both run, ole Josh Barton'll +git it shore. Ef you git out o' the way, I can lick him easy.” + +Mr. Budd's answer was kind, instructive, and uplifted. + +“My friend,” said he, “I'm sorry, but I cannot possibly accede to your +request for the following reasons: First, it would not be fair to my +constituents; secondly, it would hardly be seeming to barter the noble +gift of the people to which we both aspire; thirdly, you might lose with +me out of the way; and fourthly, I'm going to win whether you are in the +way or not.” + +The horseman slowly collapsed while the Hon. Samuel was talking, and +now he threw the leg back, kicked for his stirrup twice, spat once, and +turned his horse's head. + +“I reckon you will, stranger,” he said sadly, “with that gift o' gab +o' yourn.” He turned without another word or nod of good-by and started +back up the creek whence he had come. + +“One gone,” said the Hon. Samuel Budd grimly, “and I swear I'm right +sorry for him.” And so was I. + +An hour later we struck the river, and another hour upstream brought +us to where the contest of tongues was to come about. No sylvan dell +in Arcady could have been lovelier than the spot. Above the road, a big +spring poured a clear little stream over shining pebbles into the river; +above it the bushes hung thick with autumn leaves, and above them stood +yellow beeches like pillars of pale fire. On both sides of the road sat +and squatted the honest voters, sour-looking, disgruntled--a distinctly +hostile crowd. The Blight and my little sister drew great and curious +attention as they sat on a bowlder above the spring while I went with +the Hon. Samuel Budd under the guidance of Uncle Tommie Hendricks, who +introduced him right and left. The Hon. Samuel was cheery, but he was +plainly nervous. There were two lanky youths whose names, oddly enough, +were Budd. As they gave him their huge paws in lifeless fashion, the +Hon. Samuel slapped one on the shoulder, with the true democracy of the +politician, and said jocosely: + +“Well, we Budds may not be what you call great people, but, thank God, +none of us have ever been in the penitentiary,” and he laughed loudly, +thinking that he had scored a great and jolly point. The two young men +looked exceedingly grave and Uncle Tommie panic-stricken. He plucked the +Hon. Sam by the sleeve and led him aside: + +“I reckon you made a leetle mistake thar. Them two fellers' daddy died +in the penitentiary last spring.” The Hon. Sam whistled mournfully, +but he looked game enough when his opponent rose to speak--Uncle Josh +Barton, who had short, thick, upright hair, little sharp eyes, and a +rasping voice. Uncle Josh wasted no time: + +“Feller-citizens,” he shouted, “this man is a lawyer--he's a corporation +lawyer”; the fearful name--pronounced “lie-yer”--rang through the crowd +like a trumpet, and like lightning the Hon. Sam was on his feet. + +“The man who says that is a liar,” he said calmly, “and I demand your +authority for the statement. If you won't give it--I shall hold you +personally responsible, sir.” + +It was a strike home, and under the flashing eyes that stared +unwaveringly, through the big goggles, Uncle Josh halted and stammered +and admitted that he might have been misinformed. + +“Then I advise you to be more careful,” cautioned the Hon. Samuel +sharply. + +“Feller-citizens,” said Uncle Josh, “if he ain't a corporation +lawyer--who is this man? Where did he come from? I have been born and +raised among you. You all know me--do you know him? Whut's he a-doin' +now? He's a fine-haired furriner, an' he's come down hyeh from the +settlemints to tell ye that you hain't got no man in yo' own deestrict +that's fittin' to represent ye in the legislatur'. Look at him--look at +him! He's got FOUR eyes! Look at his hair--hit's PARTED IN THE MIDDLE!” + There was a storm of laughter--Uncle Josh had made good--and if the Hon. +Samuel could straightway have turned bald-headed and sightless, he +would have been a happy man. He looked sick with hopelessness, but Uncle +Tommie Hendricks, his mentor, was vigorously whispering something in +his ear, and gradually his face cleared. Indeed, the Hon. Samuel was +smilingly confident when he rose. + +Like his rival, he stood in the open road, and the sun beat down on his +parted yellow hair, so that the eyes of all could see, and the laughter +was still running round. + +“Who is your Uncle Josh?” he asked with threatening mildness. “I know +I was not born here, but, my friends, I couldn't help that. And just +as soon as I could get away from where I was born, I came here and,” + he paused with lips parted and long finger outstretched, +“and--I--came--because--I WANTED--to come--and NOT because I HAD TO.” + +Now it seems that Uncle Josh, too, was not a native and that he had left +home early in life for his State's good and for his own. Uncle Tommie +had whispered this, and the Hon. Samuel raised himself high on both toes +while the expectant crowd, on the verge of a roar, waited--as did Uncle +Joshua, with a sickly smile. + +“Why did your Uncle Josh come among you? Because he was hoop-poled away +from home.” Then came the roar--and the Hon. Samuel had to quell it with +uplifted hand. + +“And did your Uncle Joshua marry a mountain wife? No I He didn't think +any of your mountain women were good enough for him, so he slips down +into the settlemints and STEALS one. And now, fellow-citizens, that is +just what I'm here for--I'm looking for a nice mountain girl, and I'm +going to have her.” Again the Hon. Samuel had to still the roar, and +then he went on quietly to show how they must lose the Court-House site +if they did not send him to the legislature, and how, while they might +not get it if they did send him, it was their only hope to send only +him. The crowd had grown somewhat hostile again, and it was after one +telling period, when the Hon. Samuel stopped to mop his brow, that a +gigantic mountaineer rose in the rear of the crowd: + +“Talk on, stranger; you're talking sense. I'll trust ye. You've got big +ears!” + +Now the Hon. Samuel possessed a primordial talent that is rather rare in +these physically degenerate days. He said nothing, but stood quietly in +the middle of the road. The eyes of the crowd on either side of the road +began to bulge, the lips of all opened with wonder, and a simultaneous +burst of laughter rose around the Hon. Samuel Budd. A dozen men sprang +to their feet and rushed up to him--looking at those remarkable ears, as +they gravely wagged to and fro. That settled things, and as we left, +the Hon. Sam was having things his own way, and on the edge of the crowd +Uncle Tommie Hendricks was shaking his head: + +“I tell ye, boys, he ain't no jackass even if he can flop his ears.” + +At the river we started upstream, and some impulse made me turn in my +saddle and look back. All the time I had had an eye open for the young +mountaineer whose interest in us seemed to be so keen. And now I saw, +standing at the head of a gray horse, on the edge of the crowd, a tall +figure with his hands on his hips and looking after us. I couldn't be +sure, but it looked like the Wild Dog. + + + + +IV. CLOSE QUARTERS + +Two hours up the river we struck Buck. Buck was sitting on the fence by +the roadside, barefooted and hatless. + +“How-dye-do?” I said. + +“Purty well,” said Buck. + +“Any fish in this river?” + +“Several,” said Buck. Now in mountain speech, “several” means simply “a +good many.” + +“Any minnows in these branches?” + +“I seed several in the branch back o' our house.” + +“How far away do you live?” + +“Oh, 'bout one whoop an' a holler.” If he had spoken Greek the Blight +could not have been more puzzled. He meant he lived as far as a man's +voice would carry with one yell and a holla. + +“Will you help me catch some?” Buck nodded. + +“All right,” I said, turning my horse up to the fence. “Get on behind.” + The horse shied his hind quarters away, and I pulled him back. + +“Now, you can get on, if you'll be quick.” Buck sat still. + +“Yes,” he said imperturbably; “but I ain't quick.” The two girls laughed +aloud, and Buck looked surprised. + +Around a curving cornfield we went, and through a meadow which Buck said +was a “nigh cut.” From the limb of a tree that we passed hung a piece +of wire with an iron ring swinging at its upturned end. A little farther +was another tree and another ring, and farther on another and another. + +“For heaven's sake, Buck, what are these things?” + +“Mart's a-gittin' ready fer a tourneyment.” + +“A what?” + +“That's whut Mart calls hit. He was over to the Gap last Fourth o' July, +an' he says fellers over thar fix up like Kuklux and go a-chargin' on +hosses and takin' off them rings with a ash-stick--'spear,' Mart calls +hit. He come back an' he says he's a-goin' to win that ar tourneyment +next Fourth o' July. He's got the best hoss up this river, and on +Sundays him an' Dave Branham goes a-chargin' along here a-picking off +these rings jus' a-flyin'; an' Mart can do hit, I'm tellin' ye. Dave's +mighty good hisself, but he ain't nowhar 'longside o' Mart.” + +This was strange. I had told the Blight about our Fourth of July, and +how on the Virginia side the ancient custom of the tournament still +survived. It was on the last Fourth of July that she had meant to come +to the Gap. Truly civilization was spreading throughout the hills. + +“Who's Mart?” + +“Mart's my brother,” said little Buck. + +“He was over to the Gap not long ago, an' he come back mad as hops--” He +stopped suddenly, and in such a way that I turned my head, knowing that +caution had caught Buck. + +“What about?” + +“Oh, nothin',” said Buck carelessly; “only he's been quar ever since. +My sisters says he's got a gal over thar, an' he's a-pickin' off these +rings more'n ever now. He's going to win or bust a belly-band.” + +“Well, who's Dave Branham?” + +Buck grinned. “You jes axe my sister Mollie. Thar she is.” + +Before us was a white-framed house of logs in the porch of which +stood two stalwart, good-looking girls. Could we stay all night? We +could--there was no hesitation--and straight in we rode. + +“Where's your father?” Both girls giggled, and one said, with frank +unembarrassment: + +“Pap's tight!” That did not look promising, but we had to stay just +the same. Buck helped me to unhitch the mules, helped me also to catch +minnows, and in half an hour we started down the river to try fishing +before dark came. Buck trotted along. + +“Have you got a wagon, Buck?” + +“What fer?” + +“To bring the fish back.” Buck was not to be caught napping. + +“We got that sled thar, but hit won't be big enough,” he said gravely. +“An' our two-hoss wagon's out in the cornfield. We'll have to string the +fish, leave 'em in the river and go fer 'em in the mornin'.” + +“All right, Buck.” The Blight was greatly amused at Buck. + +Two hundred yards down the road stood his sisters over the figure of a +man outstretched in the road. Unashamed, they smiled at us. The man in +the road was “pap”--tight--and they were trying to get him home. + +We cast into a dark pool farther down and fished most patiently; not a +bite--not a nibble. + +“Are there any fish in here, Buck?” + +“Dunno--used ter be.” The shadows deepened; we must go back to the +house. + +“Is there a dam below here, Buck?” + +“Yes, thar's a dam about a half-mile down the river.” + +I was disgusted. No wonder there were no bass in that pool. + +“Why didn't you tell me that before?” + +“You never axed me,” said Buck placidly. + +I began winding in my line. + +“Ain't no bottom to that pool,” said Buck. + +Now I never saw any rural community where there was not a bottomless +pool, and I suddenly determined to shake one tradition in at least one +community. So I took an extra fish-line, tied a stone to it, and climbed +into a canoe, Buck watching me, but not asking a word. + +“Get in, Buck.” + +Silently he got in and I pushed off--to the centre. + +“This the deepest part, Buck?” + +“I reckon so.” + +I dropped in the stone and the line reeled out some fifty feet and began +to coil on the surface of the water. + +“I guess that's on the bottom, isn't it, Buck?” + +Buck looked genuinely distressed; but presently he brightened. + +“Yes,” he said, “ef hit ain't on a turtle's back.” + +Literally I threw up both hands and back we trailed--fishless. + +“Reckon you won't need that two-hoss wagon,” said Buck. “No, Buck, I +think not.” Buck looked at the Blight and gave himself the pleasure of +his first chuckle. A big crackling, cheerful fire awaited us. Through +the door I could see, outstretched on a bed in the next room, the limp +figure of “pap” in alcoholic sleep. The old mother, big, kind-faced, +explained--and there was a heaven of kindness and charity in her +drawling voice. + +“Dad didn' often git that a-way,” she said; “but he'd been out a-huntin' +hawgs that mornin' and had met up with some teamsters and gone to a +political speakin' and had tuk a dram or two of their mean whiskey, and +not havin' nothin' on his stummick, hit had all gone to his head. No, +'pap' didn't git that a-way often, and he'd be all right jes' as soon as +he slept it off a while.” The old woman moved about with a cane and the +sympathetic Blight merely looked a question at her. + +“Yes, she'd fell down a year ago--and had sort o' hurt herself--didn't +do nothin', though, 'cept break one hip,” she added, in her kind, +patient old voice. Did many people stop there? Oh, yes, sometimes +fifteen at a time--they “never turned nobody away.” And she had a big +family, little Cindy and the two big girls and Buck and Mart--who was +out somewhere--and the hired man, and yes--“Thar was another boy, but he +was fitified,” said one of the big sisters. + +“I beg your pardon,” said the wondering Blight, but she knew that phrase +wouldn't do, so she added politely: + +“What did you say?” + +“Fitified--Tom has fits. He's in a asylum in the settlements.” + +“Tom come back once an' he was all right,” said the old mother; “but he +worried so much over them gals workin' so hard that it plum' throwed him +off ag'in, and we had to send him back.” + +“Do you work pretty hard?” I asked presently. Then a story came that +was full of unconscious pathos, because there was no hint of +complaint--simply a plain statement of daily life. They got up before +the men, in order to get breakfast ready; then they went with the men +into the fields--those two girls--and worked like men. At dark they +got supper ready, and after the men went to bed they worked on--washing +dishes and clearing up the kitchen. They took it turn about getting +supper, and sometimes, one said, she was “so plumb tuckered out that +she'd drap on the bed and go to sleep ruther than eat her own supper.” + No wonder poor Tom had to go back to the asylum. All the while the +two girls stood by the fire looking, politely but minutely, at the two +strange girls and their curious clothes and their boots, and the way +they dressed their hair. Their hard life seemed to have hurt them +none--for both were the pictures of health--whatever that phrase means. + +After supper “pap” came in, perfectly sober, with a big ruddy face, +giant frame, and twinkling gray eyes. He was the man who had risen to +speak his faith in the Hon. Samuel Budd that day on the size of the Hon. +Samuel's ears. He, too, was unashamed and, as he explained his plight +again, he did it with little apology. + +“I seed ye at the speakin' to-day. That man Budd is a good man. He done +somethin' fer a boy o' mine over at the Gap.” Like little Buck, he, too, +stopped short. “He's a good man an' I'm a-goin' to help him.” + +Yes, he repeated, quite irrelevantly, it was hunting hogs all day with +nothing to eat and only mean whiskey to drink. Mart had not come in +yet--he was “workin' out” now. + +“He's the best worker in these mountains,” said the old woman; “Mart +works too hard.” + +The hired man appeared and joined us at the fire. Bedtime came, and I +whispered jokingly to the Blight: + +“I believe I'll ask that good-looking one to 'set up' with me.” “Settin' +up” is what courting is called in the hills. The couple sit up in front +of the fire after everybody else has gone to bed. The man puts his arm +around the girl's neck and whispers; then she puts her arm around his +neck and whispers--so that the rest may not hear. This I had related to +the Blight, and now she withered me. + +“You just do, now!” + +I turned to the girl in question, whose name was Mollie. “Buck told me +to ask you who Dave Branham was.” Mollie wheeled, blushing and angry, +but Buck had darted cackling out the door. “Oh,” I said, and I changed +the subject. “What time do you get up?” + +“Oh, 'bout crack o' day.” I was tired, and that was discouraging. + +“Do you get up that early every morning?” + +“No,” was the quick answer; “a mornin' later.” + +A morning later, Mollie got up, each morning. The Blight laughed. + +Pretty soon the two girls were taken into the next room, which was a +long one, with one bed in one dark corner, one in the other, and a third +bed in the middle. The feminine members of the family all followed them +out on the porch and watched them brush their teeth, for they had never +seen tooth-brushes before. They watched them prepare for bed--and I +could hear much giggling and comment and many questions, all of which +culminated, by and by, in a chorus of shrieking laughter. That climax, +as I learned next morning, was over the Blight's hot-water bag. Never +had their eyes rested on an article of more wonder and humor than that +water bag. + +By and by, the feminine members came back and we sat around the fire. +Still Mart did not appear, though somebody stepped into the kitchen, and +from the warning glance that Mollie gave Buck when she left the room I +guessed that the newcomer was her lover Dave. Pretty soon the old man +yawned. + +“Well, mammy, I reckon this stranger's about ready to lay down, if +you've got a place fer him.” + +“Git a light, Buck,” said the old woman. Buck got a light--a +chimneyless, smoking oil-lamp--and led me into the same room where the +Blight and my little sister were. Their heads were covered up, but +the bed in the gloom of one corner was shaking with their smothered +laughter. Buck pointed to the middle bed. + +“I can get along without that light, Buck,” I said, and I must have +been rather haughty and abrupt, for a stifled shriek came from under the +bedclothes in the corner and Buck disappeared swiftly. Preparations for +bed are simple in the mountains--they were primitively simple for me +that night. Being in knickerbockers, I merely took off my coat and +shoes. Presently somebody else stepped into the room and the bed in the +other corner creaked. Silence for a while. Then the door opened, and the +head of the old woman was thrust in. + +“Mart!” she said coaxingly; “git up thar now an' climb over inter bed +with that ar stranger.” + +That was Mart at last, over in the corner. Mart turned, grumbled, and, +to my great pleasure, swore that he wouldn't. The old woman waited a +moment. + +“Mart,” she said again with gentle imperiousness, “git up thar now, I +tell ye--you've got to sleep with that thar stranger.” + +She closed the door and with a snort Mart piled into bed with me. I +gave him plenty of room and did not introduce myself. A little more dark +silence--the shaking of the bed under the hilarity of those astonished, +bethrilled, but thoroughly unfrightened young women in the dark corner +on my left ceased, and again the door opened. This time it was the hired +man, and I saw that the trouble was either that neither Mart nor Buck +wanted to sleep with the hired man or that neither wanted to sleep +with me. A long silence and then the boy Buck slipped in. The hired man +delivered himself with the intonation somewhat of a circuit rider. + +“I've been a-watchin' that star thar, through the winder. Sometimes hit +moves, then hit stands plum' still, an' ag'in hit gits to pitchin'.” The +hired man must have been touching up mean whiskey himself. Meanwhile, +Mart seemed to be having spells of troubled slumber. He would snore +gently, accentuate said snore with a sudden quiver of his body and then +wake up with a climacteric snort and start that would shake the bed. +This was repeated several times, and I began to think of the unfortunate +Tom who was “fitified.” Mart seemed on the verge of a fit himself, and +I waited apprehensively for each snorting climax to see if fits were a +family failing. They were not. Peace overcame Mart and he slept deeply, +but not I. The hired man began to show symptoms. He would roll and +groan, dreaming of feuds, _quorum pars magna fuit_, it seemed, and of +religious conversion, in which he feared he was not so great. Twice he +said aloud: + +“An' I tell you thar wouldn't a one of 'em have said a word if I'd been +killed stone-dead.” Twice he said it almost weepingly, and now and then +he would groan appealingly: + +“O Lawd, have mercy on my pore soul!” + +Fortunately those two tired girls slept--I could hear their +breathing--but sleep there was little for me. Once the troubled soul +with the hoe got up and stumbled out to the water-bucket on the porch to +soothe the fever or whatever it was that was burning him, and after that +he was quiet. I awoke before day. The dim light at the window showed an +empty bed--Buck and the hired man were gone. Mart was slipping out of +the side of my bed, but the girls still slept on. I watched Mart, for +I guessed I might now see what, perhaps, is the distinguishing trait of +American civilization down to its bed-rock, as you find it through the +West and in the Southern hills--a chivalrous respect for women. Mart +thought I was asleep. Over in the corner were two creatures the like of +which I supposed he had never seen and would not see, since he came in +too late the night before, and was going away too early now--and two +angels straight from heaven could not have stirred my curiosity any more +than they already must have stirred his. But not once did Mart turn his +eyes, much less his face, toward the corner where they were--not once, +for I watched him closely. And when he went out he sent his little +sister back for his shoes, which the night-walking hired man had +accidentally kicked toward the foot of the strangers' bed. In a minute I +was out after him, but he was gone. Behind me the two girls opened their +eyes on a room that was empty save for them. Then the Blight spoke (this +I was told later). + +“Dear,” she said, “have our room-mates gone?” + +Breakfast at dawn. The mountain girls were ready to go to work. All +looked sorry to have us leave. They asked us to come back again, and +they meant it. We said we would like to come back--and we meant it--to +see them--the kind old mother, the pioneer-like old man, sturdy little +Buck, shy little Cindy, the elusive, hard-working, unconsciously shivery +Mart, and the two big sisters. As we started back up the river the +sisters started for the fields, and I thought of their stricken brother +in the settlements, who must have been much like Mart. + +Back up the Big Black Mountain we toiled, and late in the afternoon we +were on the State line that runs the crest of the Big Black. Right on +top and bisected by that State line sat a dingy little shack, and there, +with one leg thrown over the pommel of his saddle, sat Marston, drinking +water from a gourd. + +“I was coming over to meet you,” he said, smiling at the Blight, who, +greatly pleased, smiled back at him. The shack was a “blind Tiger” + where whiskey could be sold to Kentuckians on the Virginia side and +to Virginians on the Kentucky side. Hanging around were the slouching +figures of several moonshiners and the villainous fellow who ran it. + +“They are real ones all right,” said Marston. “One of them killed a +revenue officer at that front door last week, and was killed by the +posse as he was trying to escape out of the back window. That house will +be in ashes soon,” he added. And it was. + +As we rode down the mountain we told him about our trip and the people +with whom we had spent the night--and all the time he was smiling +curiously. + +“Buck,” he said. “Oh, yes, I know that little chap. Mart had him posted +down there on the river to toll you to his house--to toll YOU,” he added +to the Blight. He pulled in his horse suddenly, turned and looked up +toward the top of the mountain. + +“Ah, I thought so.” We all looked back. On the edge of the cliff, far +upward, on which the “blind Tiger” sat was a gray horse, and on it was a +man who, motionless, was looking down at us. + +“He's been following you all the way,” said the engineer. + +“Who's been following us?” I asked. + +“That's Mart up there--my friend and yours,” said Marston to the +Blight. “I'm rather glad I didn't meet you on the other side of the +mountain--that's 'the Wild Dog.'” The Blight looked incredulous, but +Marston knew the man and knew the horse. + +So Mart--hard-working Mart--was the Wild Dog, and he was content to +do the Blight all service without thanks, merely for the privilege of +secretly seeing her face now and then; and yet he would not look upon +that face when she was a guest under his roof and asleep. + +Still, when we dropped behind the two girls I gave Marston the Hon. +Sam's warning, and for a moment he looked rather grave. + +“Well,” he said, smiling, “if I'm found in the road some day, you'll +know who did it.” + +I shook my head. “Oh, no; he isn't that bad.” + +“I don't know,” said Marston. + + +The smoke of the young engineer's coke ovens lay far below us and the +Blight had never seen a coke-plant before. It looked like Hades even +in the early dusk--the snake-like coil of fiery ovens stretching up the +long, deep ravine, and the smoke-streaked clouds of fire, trailing like +a yellow mist over them, with a fierce white blast shooting up here +and there when the lid of an oven was raised, as though to add fresh +temperature to some particular male-factor in some particular chamber +of torment. Humanity about was joyous, however. Laughter and banter +and song came from the cabins that lined the big ravine and the little +ravines opening into it. A banjo tinkled at the entrance of “Possum +Trot,” sacred to the darkies. We moved toward it. On the stoop sat an +ecstatic picker and in the dust shuffled three pickaninnies--one boy and +two girls--the youngest not five years old. The crowd that was gathered +about them gave way respectfully as we drew near; the little darkies +showed their white teeth in jolly grins, and their feet shook the dust +in happy competition. I showered a few coins for the Blight and on we +went--into the mouth of the many-peaked Gap. The night train was coming +in and everybody had a smile of welcome for the Blight--post-office +assistant, drug clerk, soda-water boy, telegraph operator, hostler, +who came for the mules--and when tired, but happy, she slipped from +her saddle to the ground, she then and there gave me what she usually +reserves for Christmas morning, and that, too, while Marston was looking +on. Over her shoulder I smiled at him. + + +That night Marston and the Blight sat under the vines on the porch +until the late moon rose over Wallens Ridge, and, when bedtime came, the +Blight said impatiently that she did not want to go home. She had to go, +however, next day, but on the next Fourth of July she would surely come +again; and, as the young engineer mounted his horse and set his face +toward Black Mountain, I knew that until that day, for him, a blight +would still be in the hills. + + + + +V. BACK TO THE HILLS + +Winter drew a gray veil over the mountains, wove into it tiny jewels of +frost and turned it many times into a mask of snow, before spring broke +again among them and in Marston's impatient heart. No spring had ever +been like that to him. The coming of young leaves and flowers and +bird-song meant but one joy for the hills to him--the Blight was coming +back to them. All those weary waiting months he had clung grimly to his +work. He must have heard from her sometimes, else I think he would have +gone to her; but I knew the Blight's pen was reluctant and casual for +anybody, and, moreover, she was having a strenuous winter at home. That +he knew as well, for he took one paper, at least, that he might simply +read her name. He saw accounts of her many social doings as well, and +ate his heart out as lovers have done for all time gone and will do for +all time to come. + +I, too, was away all winter, but I got back a month before the Blight, +to learn much of interest that had come about. The Hon. Samuel Budd had +ear-wagged himself into the legislature, had moved that Court-House, and +was going to be State Senator. The Wild Dog had confined his reckless +career to his own hills through the winter, but when spring came, +migratory-like, he began to take frequent wing to the Gap. So far, he +and Marston had never come into personal conflict, though Marston kept +ever ready for him, and several times they had met in the road, eyed +each other in passing and made no hipward gesture at all. But then +Marston had never met him when the Wild Dog was drunk--and when sober, I +took it that the one act of kindness from the engineer always stayed his +hand. But the Police Guard at the Gap saw him quite often--and to it he +was a fearful and elusive nuisance. He seemed to be staying somewhere +within a radius of ten miles, for every night or two he would circle +about the town, yelling and firing his pistol, and when we chased him, +escaping through the Gap or up the valley or down in Lee. Many plans +were laid to catch him, but all failed, and finally he came in one day +and gave himself up and paid his fines. Afterward I recalled that +the time of this gracious surrender to law and order was but little +subsequent to one morning when a woman who brought butter and eggs to my +little sister casually asked when that “purty slim little gal with the +snappin' black eyes was a-comin' back.” And the little sister, pleased +with the remembrance, had said cordially that she was coming soon. + +Thereafter the Wild Dog was in town every day, and he behaved well until +one Saturday he got drunk again, and this time, by a peculiar chance, it +was Marston again who leaped on him, wrenched his pistol away, and put +him in the calaboose. Again he paid his fine, promptly visited a “blind +Tiger,” came back to town, emptied another pistol at Marston on sight +and fled for the hills. + +The enraged guard chased him for two days and from that day the Wild Dog +was a marked man. The Guard wanted many men, but if they could have had +their choice they would have picked out of the world of malefactors that +same Wild Dog. + +Why all this should have thrown the Hon. Samuel Budd into such gloom +I could not understand--except that the Wild Dog had been so loyal a +henchman to him in politics, but later I learned a better reason, that +threatened to cost the Hon. Sam much more than the fines that, as I +later learned, he had been paying for his mountain friend. + +Meanwhile, the Blight was coming from her Northern home through the +green lowlands of Jersey, the fat pastures of Maryland, and, as the +white dresses of schoolgirls and the shining faces of darkies thickened +at the stations, she knew that she was getting southward. All the way +she was known and welcomed, and next morning she awoke with the keen air +of the distant mountains in her nostrils and an expectant light in her +happy eyes. At least the light was there when she stepped daintily from +the dusty train and it leaped a little, I fancied, when Marston, bronzed +and flushed, held out his sunburnt hand. Like a convent girl she babbled +questions to the little sister as the dummy puffed along and she bubbled +like wine over the midsummer glory of the hills. And well she might, for +the glory of the mountains, full-leafed, shrouded in evening shadows, +blue-veiled in the distance, was unspeakable, and through the Gap the +sun was sending his last rays as though he, too, meant to take a peep at +her before he started around the world to welcome her next day. And she +must know everything at once. The anniversary of the Great Day on which +all men were pronounced free and equal was only ten days distant and +preparations were going on. There would be a big crowd of mountaineers +and there would be sports of all kinds, and games, but the tournament +was to be the feature of the day. + +“A tournament?” “Yes, a tournament,” repeated the little sister, +and Marston was going to ride and the mean thing would not tell what +mediaeval name he meant to take. And the Hon. Sam Budd--did the Blight +remember him? (Indeed, she did)--had a “dark horse,” and he had bet +heavily that his dark horse would win the tournament--whereat the little +sister looked at Marston and at the Blight and smiled disdainfully. And +the Wild Dog--DID she remember him? I checked the sister here with a +glance, for Marston looked uncomfortable and the Blight saw me do it, +and on the point of saying something she checked herself, and her face, +I thought, paled a little. + +That night I learned why--when she came in from the porch after Marston +was gone. I saw she had wormed enough of the story out of him to worry +her, for her face this time was distinctly pale. I would tell her no +more than she knew, however, and then she said she was sure she had seen +the Wild Dog herself that afternoon, sitting on his horse in the bushes +near a station in Wildcat Valley. She was sure that he saw her, and his +face had frightened her. I knew her fright was for Marston and not for +herself, so I laughed at her fears. She was mistaken--Wild Dog was an +outlaw now and he would not dare appear at the Gap, and there was no +chance that he could harm her or Marston. And yet I was uneasy. + +It must have been a happy ten days for those two young people. Every +afternoon Marston would come in from the mines and they would go off +horseback together, over ground that I well knew--for I had been all +over it myself--up through the gray-peaked rhododendron-bordered Gap +with the swirling water below them and the gray rock high above where +another such foolish lover lost his life, climbing to get a flower for +his sweetheart, or down the winding dirt road into Lee, or up through +the beech woods behind Imboden Hill, or climbing the spur of Morris's +Farm to watch the sunset over the majestic Big Black Mountains, where +the Wild Dog lived, and back through the fragrant, cool, moonlit woods. +He was doing his best, Marston was, and he was having trouble--as every +man should. And that trouble I knew even better than he, for I had once +known a Southern girl who was so tender of heart that she could refuse +no man who really loved her she accepted him and sent him to her father, +who did all of her refusing for her. And I knew no man would know that +he had won the Blight until he had her at the altar and the priestly +hand of benediction was above her head. + +Of such kind was the Blight. Every night when they came in I could read +the story of the day, always in his face and sometimes in hers; and +it was a series of ups and downs that must have wrung the boy's heart +bloodless. Still I was in good hope for him, until the crisis came +on the night before the Fourth. The quarrel was as plain as though +typewritten on the face of each. Marston would not come in that night +and the Blight went dinnerless to bed and cried herself to sleep. She +told the little sister that she had seen the Wild Dog again peering +through the bushes, and that she was frightened. That was her +explanation--but I guessed a better one. + + + + +VI. THE GREAT DAY + +It was a day to make glad the heart of slave or freeman. The earth was +cool from a night-long rain, and a gentle breeze fanned coolness +from the north all day long. The clouds were snow-white, tumbling, +ever-moving, and between them the sky showed blue and deep. Grass, leaf, +weed and flower were in the richness that comes to the green things of +the earth just before that full tide of summer whose foam is drifting +thistle down. The air was clear and the mountains seemed to have brushed +the haze from their faces and drawn nearer that they, too, might better +see the doings of that day. + +From the four winds of heaven, that morning, came the brave and the +free. Up from Lee, down from Little Stone Gap, and from over in Scott, +came the valley-farmers--horseback, in buggies, hacks, two-horse wagons, +with wives, mothers, sisters, sweethearts, in white dresses, flowered +hats, and many ribbons, and with dinner-baskets stuffed with good things +to eat--old ham, young chicken, angel-cake and blackberry wine--to be +spread in the sunless shade of great poplar and oak. From Bum Hollow and +Wildcat Valley and from up the slopes that lead to Cracker's Neck came +smaller tillers of the soil--as yet but faintly marked by the gewgaw +trappings of the outer world; while from beyond High Knob, whose crown +is in cloud-land, and through the Gap, came the mountaineer in the +primitive simplicity of home spun and cowhide, wide-brimmed hat and +poke-bonnet, quaint speech, and slouching gait. Through the Gap he came +in two streams--the Virginians from Crab Orchard and Wise and Dickinson, +the Kentuckians from Letcher and feudal Harlan, beyond the Big +Black--and not a man carried a weapon in sight, for the stern spirit of +that Police Guard at the Gap was respected wide and far. Into the town, +which sits on a plateau some twenty feet above the level of the two +rivers that all but encircle it, they poured, hitching their horses in +the strip of woods that runs through the heart of the place, and broad +ens into a primeval park that, fan-like, opens on the oval level field +where all things happen on the Fourth of July. About the street they +loitered--lovers hand in hand--eating fruit and candy and drinking +soda-water, or sat on the curb-stone, mothers with babies at their +breasts and toddling children clinging close--all waiting for the +celebration to begin. + +It was a great day for the Hon. Samuel Budd. With a cheery smile and +beaming goggles, he moved among his constituents, joking with yokels, +saying nice things to mothers, paying gallantries to girls, and chucking +babies under the chin. He felt popular and he was--so popular that he +had begun to see himself with prophetic eye in a congressional seat at +no distant day; and yet, withal, he was not wholly happy. + +“Do you know,” he said, “them fellers I made bets with in the tournament +got together this morning and decided, all of 'em, that they wouldn't +let me off? Jerusalem, it's most five hundred dollars!” And, looking +the picture of dismay, he told me his dilemma. It seems that his “dark +horse” was none other than the Wild Dog, who had been practising at home +for this tournament for nearly a year; and now that the Wild Dog was an +outlaw, he, of course, wouldn't and couldn't come to the Gap. And said +the Hon. Sam Budd: + +“Them fellers says I bet I'd BRING IN a dark horse who would win this +tournament, and if I don't BRING him in, I lose just the same as though +I had brought him in and he hadn't won. An' I reckon they've got me.” + +“I guess they have.” + +“It would have been like pickin' money off a blackberry-bush, for I was +goin' to let the Wild Dog have that black horse o' mine--the steadiest +and fastest runner in this country--and my, how that fellow can pick off +the rings! He's been a-practising for a year, and I believe he could run +the point o' that spear of his through a lady's finger-ring.” + +“You'd better get somebody else.” + +“Ah--that's it. The Wild Dog sent word he'd send over another feller, +named Dave Branham, who has been practising with him, who's just as +good, he says, as he is. I'm looking for him at twelve o'clock, an' I'm +goin' to take him down an' see what he can do on that black horse o' +mine. But if he's no good, I lose five hundred, all right,” and he +sloped away to his duties. For it was the Hon. Sam who was master +of ceremonies that day. He was due now to read the Declaration of +Independence in a poplar grove to all who would listen; he was to act as +umpire at the championship base-ball game in the afternoon, and he was +to give the “Charge” to the assembled knights before the tournament. + +At ten o'clock the games began--and I took the Blight and the little +sister down to the “grandstand”--several tiers of backless benches with +leaves for a canopy and the river singing through rhododendrons behind. +There was jumping broad and high, and a 100-yard dash and hurdling and +throwing the hammer, which the Blight said were not interesting--they +were too much like college sports--and she wanted to see the base-ball +game and the tournament. And yet Marston was in them all--dogged and +resistless--his teeth set and his eyes anywhere but lifted toward the +Blight, who secretly proud, as I believed, but openly defiant, mentioned +not his name even when he lost, which was twice only. + +“Pretty good, isn't he?” I said. + +“Who?” she said indifferently. + +“Oh, nobody,” I said, turning to smile, but not turning quickly enough. + +“What's the matter with you?” asked the Blight sharply. + +“Nothing, nothing at all,” I said, and straightway the Blight thought +she wanted to go home. The thunder of the Declaration was still rumbling +in the poplar grove. + +“That's the Hon. Sam Budd,” I said. + +“Don't you want to hear him?” + +“I don't care who it is and I don't want to hear him and I think you are +hateful.” + +Ah, dear me, it was more serious than I thought. There were +tears in her eyes, and I led the Blight and the little sister +home--conscience-stricken and humbled. Still I would find that young +jackanapes of an engineer and let him know that anybody who made the +Blight unhappy must deal with me. I would take him by the neck and pound +some sense into him. I found him lofty, uncommunicative, perfectly alien +to any consciousness that I could have any knowledge of what was going +or any right to poke my nose into anybody's business--and I did nothing +except go back to lunch--to find the Blight upstairs and the little +sister indignant with me. + +“You just let them alone,” she said severely. + +“Let who alone?” I said, lapsing into the speech of childhood. + +“You--just--let--them--alone,” she repeated. + +“I've already made up my mind to that.” + +“Well, then!” she said, with an air of satisfaction, but why I don't +know. + +I went back to the poplar grove. The Declaration was over and the crowd +was gone, but there was the Hon. Samuel Budd, mopping his brow with +one hand, slapping his thigh with the other, and all but executing a +pigeon-wing on the turf. He turned goggles on me that literally shone +triumph. + +“He's come--Dave Branham's come!” he said. “He's better than the Wild +Dog. I've been trying him on the black horse and, Lord, how he can take +them rings off! Ha, won't I get into them fellows who wouldn't let me +off this morning! Oh, yes, I agreed to bring in a dark horse, and I'll +bring him in all right. That five hundred is in my clothes now. You see +that point yonder? Well, there's a hollow there and bushes all around. +That's where I'm going to dress him. I've got his clothes all right and +a name for him. This thing is a-goin' to come off accordin' to Hoyle, +Ivanhoe, Four-Quarters-of-Beef, and all them mediaeval fellows. Just +watch me!” + +I began to get newly interested, for that knight's name I suddenly +recalled. Little Buck, the Wild Dog's brother, had mentioned him, when +we were over in the Kentucky hills, as practising with the Wild Dog--as +being “mighty good, but nowhar 'longside o' Mart.” So the Hon. Sam might +have a good substitute, after all, and being a devoted disciple of Sir +Walter, I knew his knight would rival, in splendor, at least, any that +rode with King Arthur in days of old. + +The Blight was very quiet at lunch, as was the little sister, and my +effort to be jocose was a lamentable failure. So I gave news. + +“The Hon. Sam has a substitute.” No curiosity and no question. + +“Who--did you say? Why, Dave Branham, a friend of the Wild Dog. Don't +you remember Buck telling us about him?” No answer. “Well, I do--and, +by the way, I saw Buck and one of the big sisters just a while ago. Her +name is Mollie. Dave Branham, you will recall, is her sweetheart. The +other big sister had to stay at home with her mother and little Cindy, +who's sick. Of course, I didn't ask them about Mart--the Wild Dog. They +knew I knew and they wouldn't have liked it. The Wild Dog's around, I +understand, but he won't dare show his face. Every policeman in town is +on the lookout for him.” I thought the Blight's face showed a signal of +relief. + +“I'm going to play short-stop,” I added. + +“Oh!” said the Blight, with a smile, but the little sister said with +some scorn: + +“You!” + +“I'll show you,” I said, and I told the Blight about base-ball at the +Gap. We had introduced base-ball into the region and the valley boys +and mountain boys, being swift runners, throwing like a rifle shot from +constant practice with stones, and being hard as nails, caught the game +quickly and with great ease. We beat them all the time at first, but now +they were beginning to beat us. We had a league now, and this was the +championship game for the pennant. + +“It was right funny the first time we beat a native team. Of course, we +got together and cheered 'em. They thought we were cheering ourselves, +so they got red in the face, rushed together and whooped it up for +themselves for about half an hour.” + +The Blight almost laughed. + +“We used to have to carry our guns around with us at first when we went +to other places, and we came near having several fights.” + +“Oh!” said the Blight excitedly. “Do you think there might be a fight +this afternoon?” + +“Don't know,” I said, shaking my head. “It's pretty hard for eighteen +people to fight when nine of them are policemen and there are forty more +around. Still the crowd might take a hand.” + +This, I saw, quite thrilled the Blight and she was in good spirits when +we started out. + +“Marston doesn't pitch this afternoon,” I said to the little sister. “He +plays first base. He's saving himself for the tournament. He's done too +much already.” The Blight merely turned her head while I was speaking. +“And the Hon. Sam will not act as umpire. He wants to save his +voice--and his head.” + +The seats in the “grandstand” were in the sun now, so I left the +girls in a deserted band-stand that stood on stilts under trees on the +southern side of the field, and on a line midway between third base and +the position of short-stop. Now there is no enthusiasm in any sport that +equals the excitement aroused by a rural base-ball game and I never +saw the enthusiasm of that game outdone except by the excitement of the +tournament that followed that afternoon. The game was close and +Marston and I assuredly were stars--Marston one of the first magnitude. +“Goose-egg” on one side matched “goose-egg” on the other until the end +of the fifth inning, when the engineer knocked a home-run. Spectators +threw their hats into the trees, yelled themselves hoarse, and I saw +several old mountaineers who understood no more of base-ball than of the +lost _digamma_ in Greek going wild with the general contagion. During +these innings I had “assisted” in two doubles and had fired in three +“daisy cutters” to first myself in spite of the guying I got from the +opposing rooters. + +“Four-eyes” they called me on account of my spectacles until a new +nickname came at the last half of the ninth inning, when we were in +the field with the score four to three in our favor. It was then that +a small, fat boy with a paper megaphone longer than he was waddled out +almost to first base and levelling his trumpet at me, thundered out in a +sudden silence: + +“Hello, Foxy Grandpa!” That was too much. I got rattled, and when there +were three men on bases and two out, a swift grounder came to me, I +fell--catching it--and threw wildly to first from my knees. I heard +shouts of horror, anger, and distress from everywhere and my own heart +stopped beating--I had lost the game--and then Marston leaped in the +air--surely it must have been four feet--caught the ball with his left +hand and dropped back on the bag. The sound of his foot on it and the +runner's was almost simultaneous, but the umpire said Marston's was +there first. Then bedlam! One of my brothers was umpire and the captain +of the other team walked threateningly out toward him, followed by two +of his men with base-ball bats. As I started off myself towards them I +saw, with the corner of my eye, another brother of mine start in a run +from the left field, and I wondered why a third, who was scoring, sat +perfectly still in his chair, particularly as a well-known, red-headed +tough from one of the mines who had been officiously antagonistic ran +toward the pitcher's box directly in front of him. Instantly a dozen of +the guard sprang toward it, some man pulled his pistol, a billy cracked +straightway on his head, and in a few minutes order was restored. And +still the brother scoring hadn't moved from his chair, and I spoke to +him hotly. + +“Keep your shirt on,” he said easily, lifting his score-card with his +left hand and showing his right clinched about his pistol under it. + +“I was just waiting for that red-head to make a move. I guess I'd have +got him first.” + +I walked back to the Blight and the little sister and both of them +looked very serious and frightened. + +“I don't think I want to see a real fight, after all,” said the Blight. +“Not this afternoon.” + +It was a little singular and prophetic, but just as the words left her +lips one of the Police Guard handed me a piece of paper. + +“Somebody in the crowd must have dropped it in my pocket,” he said. On +the paper were scrawled these words: + +“_Look out for the Wild Dog!_” + +I sent the paper to Marston. + + + + +VII. AT LAST--THE TOURNAMENT + +At last--the tournament! Ever afterward the Hon. Samuel Budd called it +“The Gentle and Joyous Passage of Arms--not of Ashby--but of the Gap, +by-suh!” The Hon. Samuel had arranged it as nearly after Sir Walter as +possible. And a sudden leap it was from the most modern of games to a +game most ancient. + +No knights of old ever jousted on a lovelier field than the green little +valley toward which the Hon. Sam waved one big hand. It was level, +shorn of weeds, elliptical in shape, and bound in by trees that ran in +a semicircle around the bank of the river, shut in the southern border, +and ran back to the northern extremity in a primeval little forest that +wood-thrushes, even then, were making musical--all of it shut in by +a wall of living green, save for one narrow space through which the +knights were to enter. In front waved Wallens' leafy ridge and behind +rose the Cumberland Range shouldering itself spur by spur, into the +coming sunset and crashing eastward into the mighty bulk of Powell's +Mountain, which loomed southward from the head of the valley--all +nodding sunny plumes of chestnut. + +The Hon. Sam had seen us coming from afar apparently, had come forward +to meet us, and he was in high spirits. + +“I am Prince John and Waldemar and all the rest of 'em this day,” he +said, “and 'it is thus,'” quoting Sir Walter, “that we set the dutiful +example of loyalty to the Queen of Love and Beauty, and are ourselves +her guide to the throne which she must this day occupy.” And so saying, +the Hon. Sam marshalled the Blight to a seat of honor next his own. + +“And how do you know she is going to be the Queen of Love and Beauty?” + asked the little sister. The Hon. Sam winked at me. + +“Well, this tournament lies between two gallant knights. One will make +her the Queen of his own accord, if he wins, and if the other wins, he's +got to, or I'll break his head. I've given orders.” And the Hon. Sam +looked about right and left on the people who were his that day. + +“Observe the nobles and ladies,” he said, still following Sir Walter, +and waving at the towns-people and visitors in the rude grandstand. +“Observe the yeomanry and spectators of a better degree than the mere +vulgar”--waving at the crowd on either side of the stand--“and the +promiscuous multitude down the river banks and over the woods and +clinging to the tree-tops and to yon telegraph-pole. And there is my +herald”--pointing to the cornetist of the local band--“and wait--by my +halidom--please just wait until you see my knight on that black charger +o' mine.” + +The Blight and the little sister were convulsed and the Hon. Sam went +on: + +“Look at my men-at-arms”--the volunteer policemen with bulging +hip-pockets, dangling billies and gleaming shields of office--“and at my +refreshment tents behind”--where peanuts and pink lemonade were keeping +the multitude busy--“and my attendants”--colored gentlemen with sponges +and water-buckets--“the armorers and farriers haven't come yet. But my +knight--I got his clothes in New York--just wait--Love of Ladies and +Glory to the Brave!” Just then there was a commotion on the free seats +on one side of the grandstand. A darky starting, in all ignorance, to +mount them was stopped and jostled none too good-naturedly back to the +ground. + +“And see,” mused the Hon. Sam, “in lieu of the dog of an unbeliever we +have a dark analogy in that son of Ham.” + +The little sister plucked me by the sleeve and pointed toward the +entrance. Outside and leaning on the fence were Mollie, the big sister, +and little Buck. Straightway I got up and started for them. They hung +back, but I persuaded them to come, and I led them to seats two tiers +below the Blight--who, with my little sister, rose smiling to greet +them and shake hands--much to the wonder of the nobles and ladies close +about, for Mollie was in brave and dazzling array, blushing fiercely, +and little Buck looked as though he would die of such conspicuousness. +No embarrassing questions were asked about Mart or Dave Branham, but I +noticed that Mollie had purple and crimson ribbons clinched in one brown +hand. The purpose of them was plain, and I whispered to the Blight: + +“She's going to pin them on Dave's lance.” The Hon. Sam heard me. + +“Not on your life,” he said emphatically. “I ain't takin' chances,” and +he nodded toward the Blight. “She's got to win, no matter who loses.” He +rose to his feet suddenly. + +“Glory to the Brave--they're comin'! Toot that horn, son,” he said; +“they're comin',” and the band burst into discordant sounds that would +have made the “wild barbaric music” on the field of Ashby sound like a +lullaby. The Blight stifled her laughter over that amazing music with +her handkerchief, and even the Hon. Sam scowled. + +“Gee!” he said; “it is pretty bad, isn't it?” + +“Here they come!” + +The nobles and ladies on the grandstand, the yeomanry and spectators of +better degree, and the promiscuous multitude began to sway expectantly +and over the hill came the knights, single file, gorgeous in velvets and +in caps, with waving plumes and with polished spears, vertical, resting +on the right stirrup foot and gleaming in the sun. + +“A goodly array!” murmured the Hon. Sam. + +A crowd of small boys gathered at the fence below, and I observed the +Hon. Sam's pockets bulging with peanuts. + +“Largesse!” I suggested. + +“Good!” he said, and rising he shouted: + +“Largessy! largessy!” scattering peanuts by the handful among the +scrambling urchins. + +Down wound the knights behind the back stand of the base-ball field, and +then, single file, in front of the nobles and ladies, before whom they +drew up and faced, saluting with inverted spears. + +The Hon. Sam arose--his truncheon a hickory stick--and in a stentorian +voice asked the names of the doughty knights who were there to win glory +for themselves and the favor of fair women. + +Not all will be mentioned, but among them was the Knight of the +Holston--Athelstanic in build--in black stockings, white negligee shirt, +with Byronic collar, and a broad crimson sash tied with a bow at his +right side. There was the Knight of the Green Valley, in green and gold, +a green hat with a long white plume, lace ruffles at his sleeves, and +buckles on dancing-pumps; a bonny fat knight of Maxwelton Braes, in +Highland kilts and a plaid; and the Knight at Large. + +“He ought to be caged,” murmured the Hon. Sam; for the Knight at Large +wore plum-colored velvet, red base-ball stockings, held in place with +safety-pins, white tennis shoes, and a very small hat with a very long +plume, and the dye was already streaking his face. Marston was the +last--sitting easily on his iron gray. + +“And your name, Sir Knight?” + +“The Discarded,” said Marston, with steady eyes. I felt the Blight start +at my side and sidewise I saw that her face was crimson. + +The Hon. Sam sat down, muttering, for he did not like Marston: + +“Wenchless springal!” + +Just then my attention was riveted on Mollie and little Buck. Both had +been staring silently at the knights as though they were apparitions, +but when Marston faced them I saw Buck clutch his sister's arm suddenly +and say something excitedly in her ear. Then the mouths of both +tightened fiercely and their eyes seemed to be darting lightning at the +unconscious knight, who suddenly saw them, recognized them, and smiled +past them at me. Again Buck whispered, and from his lips I could make +out what he said: + +“I wonder whar's Dave?” but Mollie did not answer. + +“Which is yours, Mr. Budd?” asked the little sister. The Hon. Sam had +leaned back with his thumbs in the arm-holes of his white waistcoat. + +“He ain't come yet. I told him to come last.” + +The crowd waited and the knights waited--so long that the Mayor rose in +his seat some twenty feet away and called out: + +“Go ahead, Budd.” + +“You jus' wait a minute--my man ain't come yet,” he said easily, but +from various places in the crowd came jeering shouts from the men with +whom he had wagered and the Hon. Sam began to look anxious. + +“I wonder what is the matter?” he added in a lower tone. “I dressed him +myself more than an hour ago and I told him to come last, but I didn't +mean for him to wait till Christmas--ah!” + +The Hon. Sam sank back in his seat again. From somewhere had come +suddenly the blare of a solitary trumpet that rang in echoes around the +amphitheatre of the hills and, a moment later, a dazzling something shot +into sight above the mound that looked like a ball of fire, coming in +mid-air. The new knight wore a shining helmet and the Hon. Sam chuckled +at the murmur that rose and then he sat up suddenly. There was no face +under that helmet--the Hon. Sam's knight was MASKED and the Hon. Sam +slapped his thigh with delight. + +“Bully--bully! I never thought of it--I never thought of it--bully!” + +This was thrilling, indeed--but there was more; the strange knight's +body was cased in a flexible suit of glistening mail, his spear point, +when he raised it on high, shone like silver, and he came on like a +radiant star--on the Hon. Sam's charger, white-bridled, with long mane +and tail and black from tip of nose to tip of that tail as midnight. The +Hon. Sam was certainly doing it well. At a slow walk the stranger drew +alongside of Marston and turned his spear point downward. + +“Gawd!” said an old darky. “Ku-klux done come again.” And, indeed, it +looked like a Ku-klux mask, white, dropping below the chin, and with +eye-holes through which gleamed two bright fires. + +The eyes of Buck and Mollie were turned from Marston at last, and +open-mouthed they stared. + +“Hit's the same hoss--hit's Dave!” said Buck aloud. + +“Well, my Lord!” said Mollie simply. + +The Hon. Sam rose again. + +“And who is Sir Tardy Knight that hither comes with masked face?” he +asked courteously. He got no answer. + +“What's your name, son?” + +The white mask puffed at the wearer's lips. + +“The Knight of the Cumberland,” was the low, muffled reply. + +“Make him take that thing off!” shouted some one. + +“What's he got it on fer?” shouted another. + +“I don't know, friend,” said the Hon. Sam; “but it is not my business +nor prithee thine; since by the laws of the tournament a knight may ride +masked for a specified time or until a particular purpose is achieved, +that purpose being, I wot, victory for himself and for me a handful of +byzants from thee.” + +“Now, go ahead, Budd,” called the Mayor again. “Are you going crazy?” + +The Hon. Sam stretched out his arms once to loosen them for gesture, +thrust his chest out, and uplifted his chin: “Fair ladies, nobles of the +realm, and good knights,” he said sonorously, and he raised one hand to +his mouth and behind it spoke aside to me: + +“How's my voice--how's my voice?” + +“Great!” His question was genuine, for the mask of humor had dropped and +the man was transformed. I knew his inner seriousness, his oratorical +command of good English, and I knew the habit, not uncommon among +stump-speakers in the South, of falling, through humor, carelessness, or +for the effect of flattering comradeship, into all the lingual sins of +rural speech; but I was hardly prepared for the soaring flight the Hon. +Sam took now. He started with one finger pointed heavenward: + + “The knights are dust + And their good swords are rast; + Their souls are with the saints, we trust.” + +“Scepticism is but a harmless phantom in these mighty hills. We BELIEVE +that with the saints is the GOOD knight's soul, and if, in the radiant +unknown, the eyes of those who have gone before can pierce the little +shadow that lies between, we know that the good knights of old look +gladly down on these good knights of to-day. For it is good to be +remembered. The tireless struggle for name and fame since the sunrise +of history attests it; and the ancestry worship in the East and the +world-wide hope of immortality show the fierce hunger in the human soul +that the memory of it not only shall not perish from this earth, but +that, across the Great Divide, it shall live on--neither forgetting nor +forgotten. You are here in memory of those good knights to prove that +the age of chivalry is not gone; that though their good swords are rust, +the stainless soul of them still illumines every harmless spear point +before me and makes it a torch that shall reveal, in your own hearts +still aflame, their courage, their chivalry, their sense of protection +for the weak, and the honor in which they held pure women, brave men, +and almighty God. + +“The tournament, some say, goes back to the walls of Troy. The form of +it passed with the windmills that Don Quixote charged. It is with you to +keep the high spirit of it an ever-burning vestal fire. It was a deadly +play of old--it is a harmless play to you this day. But the prowess of +the game is unchanged; for the skill to strike those pendent rings is no +less than was the skill to strike armor-joint, visor, or plumed crest. +It was of old an exercise for deadly combat on the field of battle; it +is no less an exercise now to you for the field of life--for the quick +eye, the steady nerve, and the deft hand which shall help you strike the +mark at which, outside these lists, you aim. And the crowning triumph +is still just what it was of old--that to the victor the Rose of his +world--made by him the Queen of Love and Beauty for us all--shall give +her smile and with her own hands place on his brow a thornless crown.” + +Perfect silence honored the Hon. Samuel Budd. The Mayor was nodding +vigorous approval, the jeering ones kept still, and when after the last +deep-toned word passed like music from his lips the silence held sway +for a little while before the burst of applause came. Every knight had +straightened in his saddle and was looking very grave. Marston's eyes +never left the speaker's face, except once, when they turned with an +unconscious appeal, I thought, to the downcast face of Blight--whereat +the sympathetic little sister seemed close to tears. The Knight of the +Cumberland shifted in his saddle as though he did not quite understand +what was going on, and once Mollie, seeing the eyes through the +mask-holes fixed on her, blushed furiously, and little Buck grinned back +a delighted recognition. The Hon. Sam sat down, visibly affected by his +own eloquence; slowly he wiped his face and then he rose again. + +“Your colors, Sir Knights,” he said, with a commanding wave of his +truncheon, and one by one the knights spurred forward and each held +his lance into the grandstand that some fair one might tie thereon the +colors he was to wear. Marston, without looking at the Blight, held his +up to the little sister and the Blight carelessly turned her face while +the demure sister was busy with her ribbons, but I noticed that the +little ear next to me was tingling red for all her brave look of +unconcern. Only the Knight of the Cumberland sat still. + +“What!” said the Hon. Sam, rising to his feet, his eyes twinkling and +his mask of humor on again; “sees this masked springal”--the Hon. Sam +seemed much enamored of that ancient word--“no maid so fair that he +will not beg from her the boon of colors gay that he may carry them to +victory and receive from her hands a wreath therefor?” Again the Knight +of the Cumberland seemed not to know that the Hon. Sam's winged words +were meant for him, so the statesman translated them into a mutual +vernacular. + +“Remember what I told you, son,” he said. “Hold up yo' spear here to +some one of these gals jes' like the other fellows are doin',” and as he +sat down he tried surreptitiously to indicate the Blight with his +index finger, but the knight failed to see and the Blight's face was +so indignant and she rebuked him with such a knife-like whisper that, +humbled, the Hon. Sam collapsed in his seat, muttering: + +“The fool don't know you--he don't know you.” + +For the Knight of the Cumberland had turned the black horse's head and +was riding, like Ivanhoe, in front of the nobles and ladies, his eyes +burning up at them through the holes in his white mask. Again he turned, +his mask still uplifted, and the behavior of the beauties there, as on +the field of Ashby, was no whit changed: “Some blushed, some assumed an +air of pride and dignity, some looked straight forward and essayed to +seem utterly unconscious of what was going on, some drew back in alarm +which was perhaps affected, some endeavored to forbear smiling and there +were two or three who laughed outright.” Only none “dropped a veil over +her charms” and thus none incurred the suspicion, as on that field of +Ashby, that she was “a beauty of ten years' standing” whose motive, +gallant Sir Walter supposes in defence, however, was doubtless “a +surfeit of such vanities and a willingness to give a fair chance to +the rising beauties of the age.” But the most conscious of the fair +was Mollie below, whose face was flushed and whose brown fingers were +nervously twisting the ribbons in her lap, and I saw Buck nudge her and +heard him whisper: + +“Dave ain't going to pick YOU out, I tell ye. I heered Mr. Budd thar +myself tell him he HAD to pick out some other gal.” + +“You hush!” said Mollie indignantly. + +It looked as though the Knight of the Cumberland had grown rebellious +and meant to choose whom he pleased, but on his way back the Hon. +Sam must have given more surreptitious signs, for the Knight of the +Cumberland reined in before the Blight and held up his lance to her. +Straightway the colors that were meant for Marston fluttered from the +Knight of the Cumberland's spear. I saw Marston bite his lips and I saw +Mollie's face aflame with fury and her eyes darting lightning--no +longer at Marston now, but at the Blight. The mountain girl held nothing +against the city girl because of the Wild Dog's infatuation, but that +her own lover, no matter what the Hon. Sam said, should give his homage +also to the Blight, in her own presence, was too much. Mollie looked +around no more. Again the Hon. Sam rose. + +“Love of ladies,” he shouted, “splintering of lances! Stand forth, +gallant knights. Fair eyes look upon your deeds! Toot again, son!” + +Now just opposite the grandstand was a post some ten feet high, with a +small beam projecting from the top toward the spectators. From the end +of this hung a wire, the end of which was slightly upturned in line with +the course, and on the tip of this wire a steel ring about an inch in +diameter hung lightly. Nearly forty yards below this was a similar +ring similarly arranged; and at a similar distance below that was +still another, and at the blast from the Hon. Sam's herald, the +gallant knights rode slowly, two by two, down the lists to the western +extremity--the Discarded Knight and the Knight of the Cumberland, +stirrup to stirrup, riding last--where they all drew up in line, some +fifty yards beyond the westernmost post. This distance they took that +full speed might be attained before jousting at the first ring, since +the course--much over one hundred yards long--must be covered in seven +seconds or less, which was no slow rate of speed. The Hon. Sam arose +again: + +“The Knight of the Holston!” + +Farther down the lists a herald took up the same cry and the good knight +of Athelstanic build backed his steed from the line and took his place +at the head of the course. + +With his hickory truncheon the Hon. Sam signed to his trumpeter to sound +the onset. + +“Now, son!” he said. + +With the blare of the trumpet Athelstane sprang from his place and came +up the course, his lance at rest; a tinkling sound and the first ring +slipped down the knight's spear and when he swept past the last post +there was a clapping of hands, for he held three rings triumphantly +aloft. And thus they came, one by one, until each had run the course +three times, the Discarded jousting next to the last and the Knight of +the Cumberland, riding with a reckless Cave, Adsum air, the very last. +At the second joust it was quite evident that the victory lay between +these two, as they only had not lost a single ring, and when the black +horse thundered by, the Hon. Sam shouted “Brave lance!” and jollied +his betting enemies, while Buck hugged himself triumphantly and Mollie +seemed temporarily to lose her chagrin and anger in pride of her lover, +Dave. On the third running the Knight of the Cumberland excited a +sensation by sitting upright, waving his lance up and down between the +posts and lowering it only when the ring was within a few feet of its +point. His recklessness cost him one ring, but as the Discarded had lost +one, they were still tied, with eight rings to the credit of each, for +the first prize. Only four others were left--the Knight of the Holston +and the Knight of the Green Valley tying with seven rings for second +prize, and the fat Maxwelton Braes and the Knight at Large tying with +six rings for the third. The crowd was eager now and the Hon. Sam +confident. On came the Knight at Large, his face a rainbow, his plume +wilted and one red base-ball stocking slipped from its moorings--two +rings! On followed the fat Maxwelton, his plaid streaming and his kilts +flapping about his fat legs--also two rings! + +“Egad!” quoth the Hon. Sam. “Did yon lusty trencherman of Annie Laurie's +but put a few more layers of goodly flesh about his ribs, thereby +projecting more his frontal Falstaffian proportions, by my halidom, he +would have to joust tandem!” + +On came Athelstane and the Knight of the Green Valley, both with but two +rings to their credit, and on followed the Discarded, riding easily, and +the Knight of the Cumberland again waving his lance between the posts, +each with three rings on his spear. At the end the Knight at Large +stood third, Athelstane second, and the Discarded and the Knight of the +Cumberland stood side by side at the head of the course, still even, and +now ready to end the joust, for neither on the second trial had missed a +ring. + +The excitement was intense now. Many people seemed to know who the +Knight of the Cumberland was, for there were shouts of “Go it, Dave!” + from everywhere; the rivalry of class had entered the contest and now +it was a conflict between native and “furriner.” The Hon. Sam was almost +beside himself with excitement; now and then some man with whom he had +made a bet would shout jeeringly at him and the Hon. Sam would shout +back defiance. But when the trumpet sounded he sat leaning forward with +his brow wrinkled and his big hands clinched tight. Marston sped up the +course first--three rings--and there was a chorus of applauding yells. + +“His horse is gittin' tired,” said the Hon. Sam jubilantly, and the +Blight's face, I noticed, showed for the first time faint traces of +indignation. The Knight of the Cumberland was taking no theatrical +chances now and he came through the course with level spear and, with +three rings on it, he shot by like a thunderbolt. + +“Hooray!” shouted the Hon. Sam. “Lord, what a horse!” For the first time +the Blight, I observed, failed to applaud, while Mollie was clapping her +hands and Buck was giving out shrill yells of encouragement. At the +next tilt the Hon. Sam had his watch in his hand and when he saw the +Discarded digging in his spurs he began to smile and he was looking at +his watch when the little tinkle in front told him that the course was +run. + +“Did he get 'em all?” + +“Yes, he got 'em all,” mimicked the Blight. + +“Yes, an' he just did make it,” chuckled the Hon. Sam. The Discarded +had wheeled his horse aside from the course to watch his antagonist. He +looked pale and tired--almost as tired as his foam-covered steed--but +his teeth were set and his face was unmoved as the Knight of the +Cumberland came on like a demon, sweeping off the last ring with a low, +rasping oath of satisfaction. + +“I never seed Dave ride that-a-way afore,” said Mollie. + +“Me, neither,” chimed in Buck. + +The nobles and ladies were waving handkerchiefs, clapping hands, and +shouting. The spectators of better degree were throwing up their +hats and from every part of the multitude the same hoarse shout of +encouragement rose: + +“Go it, Dave! Hooray for Dave!” while the boy on the telegraph-pole was +seen to clutch wildly at the crossbar on which he sat--he had come near +tumbling from his perch. + +The two knights rode slowly back to the head of the lists, where the +Discarded was seen to dismount and tighten his girth. + +“He's tryin' to git time to rest,” said the Hon. Sam. “Toot, son!” + +“Shame!” said the little sister and the Blight both at once so severely +that the Hon. Sam quickly raised his hand. + +“Hold on,” he said, and with hand still uplifted he waited till Marston +was mounted again. “Now!” + +The Discarded came on, using his spurs with every jump, the red of his +horse's nostrils showing that far away, and he swept on, spearing off +the rings with deadly accuracy and holding the three aloft, but having +no need to pull in his panting steed, who stopped of his own accord. +Up went a roar, but the Hon. Sam, covertly glancing at his watch, still +smiled. That watch he pulled out when the Knight of the Cumberland +started and he smiled still when he heard the black horse's swift, +rhythmic beat and he looked up only when that knight, shouting to his +horse, moved his lance up and down before coming to the last ring and, +with a dare-devil yell, swept it from the wire. + +“Tied--tied!” was the shout; “they've got to try it again! they've got +to try it again!” + +The Hon. Sam rose, with his watch in one hand and stilling the tumult +with the other. Dead silence came at once. + +“I fear me,” he said, “that the good knight, the Discarded, has failed +to make the course in the time required by the laws of the tournament.” + Bedlam broke loose again and the Hon. Sam waited, still gesturing for +silence. + +“Summon the time-keeper!” he said. + +The time-keeper appeared from the middle of the field and nodded. + +“Eight seconds!” “The Knight of the Cumberland wins,” said the Hon. Sam. + +The little sister, unconscious of her own sad face, nudged me to look at +the Blight--there were tears in her eyes. + + +Before the grandstand the knights slowly drew up again. Marston's horse +was so lame and tired that he dismounted and let a darky boy lead him +under the shade of the trees. But he stood on foot among the other +knights, his arms folded, worn out and vanquished, but taking his bitter +medicine like a man. I thought the Blight's eyes looked pityingly upon +him. + +The Hon. Sam arose with a crown of laurel leaves in his hand: + +“You have fairly and gallantly won, Sir Knight of the Cumberland, and +it is now your right to claim and receive from the hands of the Queen +of Love and Beauty the chaplet of honor which your skill has justly +deserved. Advance, Sir Knight of the Cumberland, and dismount!” + +The Knight of the Cumberland made no move nor sound. + +“Get off yo' hoss, son,” said the Hon. Sam kindly, “and get down on yo' +knees at the feet of them steps. This fair young Queen is a-goin' to put +this chaplet on your shinin' brow. That horse'll stand.” + +The Knight of the Cumberland, after a moment's hesitation, threw his leg +over the saddle and came to the steps with a slouching gait and looking +about him right and left. The Blight, blushing prettily, took the +chaplet and went down the steps to meet him. + +“Unmask!” I shouted. + +“Yes, son,” said the Hon. Sam, “take that rag off.” + +Then Mollie's voice, clear and loud, startled the crowd. “You better +not, Dave Branham, fer if you do and this other gal puts that thing +on you, you'll never--” What penalty she was going to inflict, I don't +know, for the Knight of the Cumberland, half kneeling, sprang suddenly +to his feet and interrupted her. “Wait a minute, will ye?” he said +almost fiercely, and at the sound of his voice Mollie rose to her feet +and her face blanched. + +“Lord God!” she said almost in anguish, and then she dropped quickly to +her seat again. + +The Knight of the Cumberland had gone back to his horse as though to get +something from his saddle. Like lightning he vaulted into the saddle, +and as the black horse sprang toward the opening tore his mask from his +face, turned in his stirrups, and brandished his spear with a yell of +defiance, while a dozen voices shouted: + +“The Wild Dog!” Then was there an uproar. + +“Goddle mighty!” shouted the Hon. Sam. “I didn't do it, I swear I didn't +know it. He's tricked me--he's tricked me! Don't shoot--you might hit +that hoss!” + +There was no doubt about the Hon. Sam's innocence. Instead of turning +over an outlaw to the police, he had brought him into the inner shrine +of law and order and he knew what a political asset for his enemies that +insult would be. And there was no doubt of the innocence of Mollie and +Buck as they stood, Mollie wringing her hands and Buck with open mouth +and startled face. There was no doubt about the innocence of anybody +other than Dave Branham and the dare-devil Knight of the Cumberland. + +Marston had clutched at the Wild Dog's bridle and missed and the outlaw +struck savagely at him with his spear. Nobody dared to shoot because of +the scattering crowd, but every knight and every mounted policeman took +out after the outlaw and the beating of hoofs pounded over the little +mound and toward Poplar Hill. Marston ran to his horse at the upper end, +threw his saddle on, and hesitated--there were enough after the Wild +Dog and his horse was blown. He listened to the yells and sounds of the +chase encircling Poplar Hill. The outlaw was making for Lee. All at once +the yells and hoof-beats seemed to sound nearer and Marston listened, +astonished. The Wild Dog had wheeled and was coming back; he was going +to make for the Gap, where sure safety lay. Marston buckled his girth +and as he sprang on his horse, unconsciously taking his spear with +him, the Wild Dog dashed from the trees at the far end of the field. As +Marston started the Wild Dog saw him, pulled something that flashed from +under his coat of mail, thrust it back again, and brandishing his spear, +he came, full speed and yelling, up the middle of the field. It was a +strange thing to happen in these modern days, but Marston was an officer +of the law and was between the Wild Dog and the Ford and liberty through +the Gap, into the hills. The Wild Dog was an outlaw. It was Marston's +duty to take him. + +The law does not prescribe with what weapon the lawless shall be +subdued, and Marston's spear was the only weapon he had. Moreover, the +Wild Dog's yell was a challenge that set his blood afire and the +girl both loved was looking on. The crowd gathered the meaning of the +joust--the knights were crashing toward each other with spears at rest. +There were a few surprised oaths from men, a few low cries from women, +and then dead silence in which the sound of hoofs on the hard turf was +like thunder. The Blight's face was white and the little sister was +gripping my arm with both hands. A third horseman shot into view out of +the woods at tight angles, to stop them, and it seemed that the three +horses must crash together in a heap. With a moan the Blight buried her +face on my shoulder. She shivered when the muffled thud of body against +body and the splintering of wood rent the air; a chorus of shrieks +arose about her, and when she lifted her frightened face Marston, the +Discarded, was limp on the ground, his horse was staggering to his feet, +and the Wild Dog was galloping past her, his helmet gleaming, his eyes +ablaze, his teeth set, the handle of his broken spear clinched in his +right hand, and blood streaming down the shoulder of the black horse. +She heard the shots that were sent after him, she heard him plunge into +the river, and then she saw and heard no more. + + + + +VIII. THE KNIGHT PASSES + +A telegram summoned the Blight a home next day. Marston was in bed with +a ragged wound in the shoulder, and I took her to tell him good-by. I +left the room for a few minutes, and when I came back their hands were +unclasping, and for a Discarded Knight the engineer surely wore a happy +though pallid face. + +That afternoon the train on which we left the Gap was brought to a +sudden halt in Wildcat Valley by a piece of red flannel tied to the end +of a stick that was planted midway the track. Across the track, farther +on, lay a heavy piece of timber, and it was plain that somebody meant +that, just at that place, the train must stop. The Blight and I were +seated on the rear platform and the Blight was taking a last look at +her beloved hills. When the train started again, there was a cracking of +twigs overhead and a shower of rhododendron leaves and flowers dropped +from the air at the feet of the Blight. And when we pulled away from the +high-walled cut we saw, motionless on a little mound, a black horse, and +on him, motionless, the Knight of the Cumberland, the helmet on his +head (that the Blight might know who he was, no doubt), and both hands +clasping the broken handle of his spear, which rested across the pommel +of his saddle. Impulsively the Blight waved her hand to him and I could +not help waving my hat; but he sat like a statue and, like a statue, +sat on, simply looking after us as we were hurried along, until horse, +broken shaft, and shoulders sank out of sight. And thus passed the +Knight of the Cumberland with the last gleam that struck his helmet, +spear-like, from the slanting sun. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's A Knight of the Cumberland, by John Fox Jr. + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND *** + +***** This file should be named 324-0.txt or 324-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/324/ + +Produced by Mike Lough + +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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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: A Knight of the Cumberland + +Author: John Fox Jr. + +Release Date: July 6, 2008 [EBook #324] +Last Updated: March 14, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND *** + + + + +Produced by Mike Lough, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By John Fox, Jr. + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I. THE BLIGHT IN THE HILLS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II. ON THE WILD DOG'S TRAIL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III. THE AURICULAR TALENT OF THE HON. + SAMUEL BUDD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> IV. CLOSE QUARTERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> V. BACK TO THE HILLS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VI. THE GREAT DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VII. AT LAST—THE TOURNAMENT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> VIII. THE KNIGHT PASSES </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. THE BLIGHT IN THE HILLS + </h2> + <p> + High noon of a crisp October day, sunshine flooding the earth with the + warmth and light of old wine and, going single-file up through the jagged + gap that the dripping of water has worn down through the Cumberland + Mountains from crest to valley-level, a gray horse and two big mules, a + man and two young girls. On the gray horse, I led the tortuous way. After + me came my small sister—and after her and like her, mule-back, rode + the Blight—dressed as she would be for a gallop in Central Park or + to ride a hunter in a horse show. + </p> + <p> + I was taking them, according to promise, where the feet of other women + than mountaineers had never trod—beyond the crest of the Big Black—to + the waters of the Cumberland—the lair of moonshiner and feudsman, + where is yet pocketed a civilization that, elsewhere, is long ago gone. + This had been a pet dream of the Blight's for a long time, and now the + dream was coming true. The Blight was in the hills. + </p> + <p> + Nobody ever went to her mother's house without asking to see her even when + she was a little thing with black hair, merry face and black eyes. Both + men and women, with children of their own, have told me that she was, + perhaps, the most fascinating child that ever lived. There be some who + claim that she has never changed—and I am among them. She began + early, regardless of age, sex or previous condition of servitude—she + continues recklessly as she began—and none makes complaint. Thus was + it in her own world—thus it was when she came to mine. On the way + down from the North, the conductor's voice changed from a command to a + request when he asked for her ticket. The jacketed lord of the dining-car + saw her from afar and advanced to show her to a seat—that she might + ride forward, sit next to a shaded window and be free from the glare of + the sun on the other side. Two porters made a rush for her bag when she + got off the car, and the proprietor of the little hotel in the little town + where we had to wait several hours for the train into the mountains gave + her the bridal chamber for an afternoon nap. From this little town to “The + Gap” is the worst sixty-mile ride, perhaps, in the world. She sat in a + dirty day-coach; the smoke rolled in at the windows and doors; the cars + shook and swayed and lumbered around curves and down and up gorges; there + were about her rough men, crying children, slatternly women, tobacco + juice, peanuts, popcorn and apple cores, but dainty, serene and as merry + as ever, she sat through that ride with a radiant smile, her keen black + eyes noting everything unlovely within and the glory of hill, tree and + chasm without. Next morning at home, where we rise early, no one was + allowed to waken her and she had breakfast in bed—for the Blight's + gentle tyranny was established on sight and varied not at the Gap. + </p> + <p> + When she went down the street that day everybody stared surreptitiously + and with perfect respect, as her dainty black plumed figure passed; the + post-office clerk could barely bring himself to say that there was no + letter for her. The soda-fountain boy nearly filled her glass with syrup + before he saw that he was not strictly minding his own business; the + clerk, when I bought chocolate for her, unblushingly added extra weight + and, as we went back, she met them both—Marston, the young engineer + from the North, crossing the street and, at the same moment, a drunken + young tough with an infuriated face reeling in a run around the corner + ahead of us as though he were being pursued. Now we have a volunteer + police guard some forty strong at the Gap—and from habit, I started + for him, but the Blight caught my arm tight. The young engineer in three + strides had reached the curb-stone and all he sternly said was: + </p> + <p> + “Here! Here!” + </p> + <p> + The drunken youth wheeled and his right hand shot toward his hip pocket. + The engineer was belted with a pistol, but with one lightning movement and + an incredibly long reach, his right fist caught the fellow's jaw so that + he pitched backward and collapsed like an empty bag. Then the engineer + caught sight of the Blight's bewildered face, flushed, gripped his hands + in front of him and simply stared. At last he saw me: + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” he said, “how do you do?” and he turned to his prisoner, but the + panting sergeant and another policeman—also a volunteer—were + already lifting him to his feet. I introduced the boy and the Blight then, + and for the first time in my life I saw the Blight—shaken. + Round-eyed, she merely gazed at him. + </p> + <p> + “That was pretty well done,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he was drunk and I knew he would be slow.” Now something curious + happened. The dazed prisoner was on his feet, and his captors were + starting with him to the calaboose when he seemed suddenly to come to his + senses. + </p> + <p> + “Jes wait a minute, will ye?” he said quietly, and his captors, thinking + perhaps that he wanted to say something to me, stopped. The mountain youth + turned a strangely sobered face and fixed his blue eyes on the engineer as + though he were searing every feature of that imperturbable young man in + his brain forever. It was not a bad face, but the avenging hatred in it + was fearful. Then he, too, saw the Blight, his face calmed magically and + he, too, stared at her, and turned away with an oath checked at his lips. + We went on—the Blight thrilled, for she had heard much of our + volunteer force at the Gap and had seen something already. Presently I + looked back. Prisoner and captors were climbing the little hill toward the + calaboose and the mountain boy just then turned his head and I could swear + that his eyes sought not the engineer, whom we left at the corner, but, + like the engineer, he was looking at the Blight. Whereat I did not wonder—particularly + as to the engineer. He had been in the mountains for a long time and I + knew what this vision from home meant to him. He turned up at the house + quite early that night. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not on duty until eleven,” he said hesitantly, “and I thought I'd——” + </p> + <p> + “Come right in.” + </p> + <p> + I asked him a few questions about business and then I left him and the + Blight alone. When I came back she had a Gatling gun of eager questions + ranged on him and—happy withal—he was squirming no little. I + followed him to the gate. + </p> + <p> + “Are you really going over into those God-forsaken mountains?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I thought I would.” + </p> + <p> + “And you are going to take HER?” + </p> + <p> + “And my sister.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I beg your pardon.” He strode away. + </p> + <p> + “Coming up by the mines?” he called back. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps will you show us around?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I will,” he said emphatically, and he went on to risk his neck on + a ten-mile ride along a mountain road in the dark. + </p> + <p> + “I LIKE a man,” said the Blight. “I like a MAN.” + </p> + <p> + Of course the Blight must see everything, so she insisted on going to the + police court next morning for the trial of the mountain boy. The boy was + in the witness chair when we got there, and the Hon. Samuel Budd was his + counsel. He had volunteered to defend the prisoner, I was soon told, and + then I understood. The November election was not far off and the Hon. + Samuel Budd was candidate for legislature. More even, the boy's father was + a warm supporter of Mr. Budd and the boy himself might perhaps render good + service in the cause when the time came—as indeed he did. On one of + the front chairs sat the young engineer and it was a question whether he + or the prisoner saw the Blight's black plumes first. The eyes of both + flashed toward her simultaneously, the engineer colored perceptibly and + the mountain boy stopped short in speech and his pallid face flushed with + unmistakable shame. Then he went on: “He had liquered up,” he said, “and + had got tight afore he knowed it and he didn't mean no harm and had never + been arrested afore in his whole life.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you ever been drunk before?” asked the prosecuting attorney + severely. The lad looked surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Co'se I have, but I ain't goin' to agin—leastwise not in this here + town.” There was a general laugh at this and the aged mayor rapped loudly. + </p> + <p> + “That will do,” said the attorney. + </p> + <p> + The lad stepped down, hitched his chair slightly so that his back was to + the Blight, sank down in it until his head rested on the back of the chair + and crossed his legs. The Hon. Samuel Budd arose and the Blight looked at + him with wonder. His long yellow hair was parted in the middle and brushed + with plaster-like precision behind two enormous ears, he wore spectacles, + gold-rimmed and with great staring lenses, and his face was smooth and + ageless. He caressed his chin ruminatingly and rolled his lips until they + settled into a fine resultant of wisdom, patience, toleration and + firmness. His manner was profound and his voice oily and soothing. + </p> + <p> + “May it please your Honor—my young friend frankly pleads guilty.” He + paused as though the majesty of the law could ask no more. “He is a young + man of naturally high and somewhat—naturally, too, no doubt—bibulous + spirits. Homoepathically—if inversely—the result was logical. + In the untrammelled life of the liberty-breathing mountains, where the + stern spirit of law and order, of which your Honor is the august symbol, + does not prevail as it does here—thanks to your Honor's wise and + just dispensations—the lad has, I may say, naturally acquired a + certain recklessness of mood—indulgence which, however easily + condoned there, must here be sternly rebuked. At the same time, he knew + not the conditions here, he became exhilarated without malice, prepensey + or even, I may say, consciousness. He would not have done as he has, if he + had known what he knows now, and, knowing, he will not repeat the offence. + I need say no more. I plead simply that your Honor will temper the justice + that is only yours with the mercy that is yours—only.” + </p> + <p> + His Honor was visibly affected and to cover it—his methods being + informal—he said with sharp irrelevancy: + </p> + <p> + “Who bailed this young feller out last night?” The sergeant spoke: + </p> + <p> + “Why, Mr. Marston thar”—with outstretched finger toward the young + engineer. The Blight's black eyes leaped with exultant appreciation and + the engineer turned crimson. His Honor rolled his quid around in his mouth + once, and peered over his glasses: + </p> + <p> + “I fine this young feller two dollars and costs.” The young fellow had + turned slowly in his chair and his blue eyes blazed at the engineer with + unappeasable hatred. I doubt if he had heard his Honor's voice. + </p> + <p> + “I want ye to know that I'm obleeged to ye an' I ain't a-goin' to fergit + it; but if I'd a known hit was you I'd a stayed in jail an' seen you in + hell afore I'd a been bounden to ye.” + </p> + <p> + “Ten dollars fer contempt of couht.” The boy was hot now. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, fine and be—” The Hon. Samuel Budd had him by the shoulder, the + boy swallowed his voice and his starting tears of rage, and after a + whisper to his Honor, the Hon. Samuel led him out. Outside, the engineer + laughed to the Blight: + </p> + <p> + “Pretty peppery, isn't he?” but the Blight said nothing, and later we saw + the youth on a gray horse crossing the bridge and conducted by the Hon. + Samuel Budd, who stopped and waved him toward the mountains. The boy went + on and across the plateau, the gray Gap swallowed him. That night, at the + post-office, the Hon. Sam plucked me aside by the sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “I know Marston is agin me in this race—but I'll do him a good turn + just the same. You tell him to watch out for that young fellow. He's all + right when he's sober, but when he's drunk—well, over in Kentucky, + they call him the Wild Dog.” + </p> + <p> + Several days later we started out through that same Gap. The glum + stableman looked at the Blight's girths three times, and with my own eyes + starting and my heart in my mouth, I saw her pass behind her + sixteen-hand-high mule and give him a friendly tap on the rump as she went + by. The beast gave an appreciative flop of one ear and that was all. Had I + done that, any further benefit to me or mine would be incorporated in the + terms of an insurance policy. So, stating this, I believe I state the + limit and can now go on to say at last that it was because she seemed to + be loved by man and brute alike that a big man of her own town, whose + body, big as it was, was yet too small for his heart and from whose brain + things went off at queer angles, always christened her perversely as—“The + Blight.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. ON THE WILD DOG'S TRAIL + </h2> + <p> + So up we went past Bee Rock, Preacher's Creek and Little Looney, past the + mines where high on a “tipple” stood the young engineer looking down at + us, and looking after the Blight as we passed on into a dim rocky avenue + walled on each side with rhododendrons. I waved at him and shook my head—we + would see him coming back. Beyond a deserted log-cabin we turned up a spur + of the mountain. Around a clump of bushes we came on a gray-bearded + mountaineer holding his horse by the bridle and from a covert high above + two more men appeared with Winchesters. The Blight breathed forth an awed + whisper: + </p> + <p> + “Are they moonshiners?” + </p> + <p> + I nodded sagely, “Most likely,” and the Blight was thrilled. They might + have been squirrel-hunters most innocent, but the Blight had heard much + talk of moonshine stills and mountain feuds and the men who run them and I + took the risk of denying her nothing. Up and up we went, those two mules + swaying from side to side with a motion little short of elephantine and, + by and by, the Blight called out: + </p> + <p> + “You ride ahead and don't you DARE look back.” + </p> + <p> + Accustomed to obeying the Blight's orders, I rode ahead with eyes to the + front. Presently, a shriek made me turn suddenly. It was nothing—my + little sister's mule had gone near a steep cliff—perilously near, as + its rider thought, but I saw why I must not look back; those two little + girls were riding astride on side-saddles, the booted little right foot of + each dangling stirrupless—a posture quite decorous but ludicrous. + </p> + <p> + “Let us know if anybody comes,” they cried. A mountaineer descended into + sight around a loop of the path above. + </p> + <p> + “Change cars,” I shouted. + </p> + <p> + They changed and, passing, were grave, demure—then they changed + again, and thus we climbed. + </p> + <p> + Such a glory as was below, around and above us; the air like champagne; + the sunlight rich and pouring like a flood on the gold that the beeches + had strewn in the path, on the gold that the poplars still shook high + above and shimmering on the royal scarlet of the maple and the sombre + russet of the oak. From far below us to far above us a deep curving ravine + was slashed into the mountain side as by one stroke of a gigantic + scimitar. The darkness deep down was lighted up with cool green, + interfused with liquid gold. Russet and yellow splashed the mountain sides + beyond and high up the maples were in a shaking blaze. The Blight's swift + eyes took all in and with indrawn breath she drank it all deep down. + </p> + <p> + An hour by sun we were near the top, which was bared of trees and turned + into rich farm-land covered with blue-grass. Along these upland pastures, + dotted with grazing cattle, and across them we rode toward the mountain + wildernesses on the other side, down into which a zigzag path wriggles + along the steep front of Benham's spur. At the edge of the steep was a + cabin and a bushy-bearded mountaineer, who looked like a brigand, answered + my hail. He “mought” keep us all night, but he'd “ruther not, as we could + git a place to stay down the spur.” Could we get down before dark? The + mountaineer lifted his eyes to where the sun was breaking the horizon of + the west into streaks and splashes of yellow and crimson. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, you can git thar afore dark.” + </p> + <p> + Now I knew that the mountaineer's idea of distance is vague—but he + knows how long it takes to get from one place to another. So we started + down—dropping at once into thick dark woods, and as we went looping + down, the deeper was the gloom. That sun had suddenly severed all + connection with the laws of gravity and sunk, and it was all the darker + because the stars were not out. The path was steep and coiled downward + like a wounded snake. In one place a tree had fallen across it, and to + reach the next coil of the path below was dangerous. So I had the girls + dismount and I led the gray horse down on his haunches. The mules refused + to follow, which was rather unusual. I went back and from a safe distance + in the rear I belabored them down. They cared neither for gray horse nor + crooked path, but turned of their own devilish wills along the bushy + mountain side. As I ran after them the gray horse started calmly on down + and those two girls shrieked with laughter—they knew no better. + First one way and then the other down the mountain went those mules, with + me after them, through thick bushes, over logs, stumps and bowlders and + holes—crossing the path a dozen times. What that path was there for + never occurred to those long-eared half asses, whole fools, and by and by, + when the girls tried to shoo them down they clambered around and above + them and struck the path back up the mountain. The horse had gone down one + way, the mules up the other, and there was no health in anything. The + girls could not go up—so there was nothing to do but go down, which, + hard as it was, was easier than going up. The path was not visible now. + Once in a while I would stumble from it and crash through the bushes to + the next coil below. Finally I went down, sliding one foot ahead all the + time—knowing that when leaves rustled under that foot I was on the + point of going astray. Sometimes I had to light a match to make sure of + the way, and thus the ridiculous descent was made with those girls in high + spirits behind. Indeed, the darker, rockier, steeper it got, the more they + shrieked from pure joy—but I was anything than happy. It was + dangerous. I didn't know the cliffs and high rocks we might skirt and an + unlucky guidance might land us in the creek-bed far down. But the blessed + stars came out, the moon peered over a farther mountain and on the last + spur there was the gray horse browsing in the path—and the sound of + running water not far below. Fortunately on the gray horse were the + saddle-bags of the chattering infants who thought the whole thing a mighty + lark. We reached the running water, struck a flock of geese and knew, in + consequence, that humanity was somewhere near. A few turns of the creek + and a beacon light shone below. The pales of a picket fence, the cheering + outlines of a log-cabin came in view and at a peaked gate I shouted: + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” + </p> + <p> + You enter no mountaineer's yard without that announcing cry. It was + mediaeval, the Blight said, positively—two lorn damsels, a benighted + knight partially stripped of his armor by bush and sharp-edged rock, a + gray palfrey (she didn't mention the impatient asses that had turned + homeward) and she wished I had a horn to wind. I wanted a “horn” badly + enough—but it was not the kind men wind. By and by we got a + response: + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” was the answer, as an opened door let out into the yard a broad + band of light. Could we stay all night? The voice replied that the owner + would see “Pap.” “Pap” seemed willing, and the boy opened the gate and + into the house went the Blight and the little sister. Shortly, I followed. + </p> + <p> + There, all in one room, lighted by a huge wood-fire, rafters above, + puncheon floor beneath—cane-bottomed chairs and two beds the only + furniture-“pap,” barefooted, the old mother in the chimney-corner with a + pipe, strings of red pepper-pods, beans and herbs hanging around and + above, a married daughter with a child at her breast, two or three + children with yellow hair and bare feet all looking with all their eyes at + the two visitors who had dropped upon them from another world. The + Blight's eyes were brighter than usual—that was the only sign she + gave that she was not in her own drawing-room. Apparently she saw nothing + strange or unusual even, but there was really nothing that she did not see + or hear and absorb, as few others than the Blight can. + </p> + <p> + Straightway, the old woman knocked the ashes out of her pipe. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon you hain't had nothin' to eat,” she said and disappeared. The + old man asked questions, the young mother rocked her baby on her knees, + the children got less shy and drew near the fireplace, the Blight and the + little sister exchanged a furtive smile and the contrast of the extremes + in American civilization, as shown in that little cabin, interested me + mightily. + </p> + <p> + “Yer snack's ready,” said the old woman. The old man carried the chairs + into the kitchen, and when I followed the girls were seated. The chairs + were so low that their chins came barely over their plates, and demure and + serious as they were they surely looked most comical. There was the usual + bacon and corn-bread and potatoes and sour milk, and the two girls + struggled with the rude fare nobly. + </p> + <p> + After supper I joined the old man and the old woman with a pipe—exchanging + my tobacco for their long green with more satisfaction probably to me than + to them, for the long green was good, and strong and fragrant. + </p> + <p> + The old woman asked the Blight and the little sister many questions and + they, in turn, showed great interest in the baby in arms, whereat the + eighteen-year-old mother blushed and looked greatly pleased. + </p> + <p> + “You got mighty purty black eyes,” said the old woman to the Blight, and + not to slight the little sister she added, “An' you got mighty purty + teeth.” + </p> + <p> + The Blight showed hers in a radiant smile and the old woman turned back to + her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you've got both,” she said and she shook her head, as though she were + thinking of the damage they had done. It was my time now—to ask + questions. + </p> + <p> + They didn't have many amusements on that creek, I discovered—and no + dances. Sometimes the boys went coon-hunting and there were + corn-shuckings, house-raisings and quilting-parties. + </p> + <p> + “Does anybody round here play the banjo?” + </p> + <p> + “None o' my boys,” said the old woman, “but Tom Green's son down the creek—he + follers pickin' the banjo a leetle.” “Follows pickin' “—the Blight + did not miss that phrase. + </p> + <p> + “What do you foller fer a livin'?” the old man asked me suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “I write for a living.” He thought a while. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it must be purty fine to have a good handwrite.” This nearly + dissolved the Blight and the little sister, but they held on heroically. + </p> + <p> + “Is there much fighting around here?” I asked presently. + </p> + <p> + “Not much 'cept when one young feller up the river gets to tearin' up + things. I heerd as how he was over to the Gap last week—raisin' + hell. He comes by here on his way home.” The Blight's eyes opened wide—apparently + we were on his trail. It is not wise for a member of the police guard at + the Gap to show too much curiosity about the lawless ones of the hills, + and I asked no questions. + </p> + <p> + “They calls him the Wild Dog over here,” he added, and then he yawned + cavernously. + </p> + <p> + I looked around with divining eye for the sleeping arrangements soon to + come, which sometimes are embarrassing to “furriners” who are unable to + grasp at once the primitive unconsciousness of the mountaineers and, in + consequence, accept a point of view natural to them because enforced by + architectural limitations and a hospitality that turns no one seeking + shelter from any door. They were, however, better prepared than I had + hoped for. They had a spare room on the porch and just outside the door, + and when the old woman led the two girls to it, I followed with their + saddle-bags. The room was about seven feet by six and was windowless. + </p> + <p> + “You'd better leave your door open a little,” I said, “or you'll smother + in there.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the old woman, “hit's all right to leave the door open. + Nothin's goin' ter bother ye, but one o' my sons is out a coon-huntin' and + he mought come in, not knowin' you're thar. But you jes' holler an' he'll + move on.” She meant precisely what she said and saw no humor at all in + such a possibility—but when the door closed, I could hear those + girls stifling shrieks of laughter. + </p> + <p> + Literally, that night, I was a member of the family. I had a bed to myself + (the following night I was not so fortunate)—in one corner; behind + the head of mine the old woman, the daughter-in-law and the baby had + another in the other corner, and the old man with the two boys spread a + pallet on the floor. That is the invariable rule of courtesy with the + mountaineer, to give his bed to the stranger and take to the floor + himself, and, in passing, let me say that never, in a long experience, + have I seen the slightest consciousness—much less immodesty—in + a mountain cabin in my life. The same attitude on the part of the visitors + is taken for granted—any other indeed holds mortal possibilities of + offence—so that if the visitor has common sense, all embarrassment + passes at once. The door was closed, the fire blazed on uncovered, the + smothered talk and laughter of the two girls ceased, the coon-hunter came + not and the night passed in peace. + </p> + <p> + It must have been near daybreak that I was aroused by the old man leaving + the cabin and I heard voices and the sound of horses' feet outside. When + he came back he was grinning. + </p> + <p> + “Hit's your mules.” + </p> + <p> + “Who found them?” + </p> + <p> + “The Wild Dog had 'em,” he said. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. THE AURICULAR TALENT OF THE HON. SAMUEL BUDD + </h2> + <p> + Behind us came the Hon. Samuel Budd. Just when the sun was slitting the + east with a long streak of fire, the Hon. Samuel was, with the jocund day, + standing tiptoe in his stirrups on the misty mountain top and peering into + the ravine down which we had slid the night before, and he grumbled no + little when he saw that he, too, must get off his horse and slide down. + The Hon. Samuel was ambitious, Southern, and a lawyer. Without saying, it + goes that he was also a politician. He was not a native of the mountains, + but he had cast his fortunes in the highlands, and he was taking the first + step that he hoped would, before many years, land him in the National + Capitol. He really knew little about the mountaineers, even now, and he + had never been among his constituents on Devil's Fork, where he was bound + now. The campaign had so far been full of humor and full of trials—not + the least of which sprang from the fact that it was sorghum time. + Everybody through the mountains was making sorghum, and every mountain + child was eating molasses. + </p> + <p> + Now, as the world knows, the straightest way to the heart of the honest + voter is through the women of the land, and the straightest way to the + heart of the women is through the children of the land; and one method of + winning both, with rural politicians, is to kiss the babies wide and far. + So as each infant, at sorghum time, has a circle of green-brown stickiness + about his chubby lips, and as the Hon. Sam was averse to “long sweetenin'” + even in his coffee, this particular political device just now was no small + trial to the Hon. Samuel Budd. But in the language of one of his firmest + supporters Uncle Tommie Hendricks: + </p> + <p> + “The Hon. Sam done his duty, and he done it damn well.” + </p> + <p> + The issue at stake was the site of the new Court-House—two + localities claiming the right undisputed, because they were the only two + places in the county where there was enough level land for the Court-House + to stand on. Let no man think this a trivial issue. There had been a + similar one over on the Virginia side once, and the opposing factions + agreed to decide the question by the ancient wager of battle, fist and + skull—two hundred men on each side—and the women of the county + with difficulty prevented the fight. Just now, Mr. Budd was on his way to + “The Pocket”—the voting place of one faction—where he had + never been, where the hostility against him was most bitter, and, that + day, he knew he was “up against” Waterloo, the crossing of the Rubicon, + holding the pass at Thermopylae, or any other historical crisis in the + history of man. I was saddling the mules when the cackling of geese in the + creek announced the coming of the Hon. Samuel Budd, coming with his chin + on his breast-deep in thought. Still his eyes beamed cheerily, he lifted + his slouched hat gallantly to the Blight and the little sister, and he + would wait for us to jog along with him. I told him of our troubles, + meanwhile. The Wild Dog had restored our mules and the Hon. Sam beamed: + </p> + <p> + “He's a wonder—where is he?” + </p> + <p> + “He never waited—even for thanks.” + </p> + <p> + Again the Hon. Sam beamed: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! just like him. He's gone ahead to help me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, how did he happen to be here?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “He's everywhere,” said the Hon. Sam. + </p> + <p> + “How did he know the mules were ours?” + </p> + <p> + “Easy. That boy knows everything.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, why did he bring them back and then leave so mysteriously?” + </p> + <p> + The Hon. Sam silently pointed a finger at the laughing Blight ahead, and I + looked incredulous. + </p> + <p> + “Just the same, that's another reason I told you to warn Marston. He's + already got it in his head that Marston is his rival.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw!” I said—for it was too ridiculous. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said the Hon. Sam placidly. + </p> + <p> + “Then why doesn't he want to see her?” “How do you know he ain't watchin' + her now, for all we know? Mark me,” he added, “you won't see him at the + speakin', but I'll bet fruit cake agin gingerbread he'll be somewhere + around.” + </p> + <p> + So we went on, the two girls leading the way and the Hon. Sam now telling + his political troubles to me. Half a mile down the road, a solitary + horseman stood waiting, and Mr. Budd gave a low whistle. + </p> + <p> + “One o' my rivals,” he said, from the corner of his mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Mornin',” said the horseman; “lemme see you a minute.” + </p> + <p> + He made a movement to draw aside, but the Hon. Samuel made a + counter-gesture of dissent. + </p> + <p> + “This gentleman is a friend of mine,” he said firmly, but with great + courtesy, “and he can hear what you have to say to me.” + </p> + <p> + The mountaineer rubbed one huge hand over his stubbly chin, threw one of + his long legs over the pommel of his saddle, and dangled a heavy cowhide + shoe to and fro. + </p> + <p> + “Would you mind tellin' me whut pay a member of the House of Legislatur' + gits a day?” + </p> + <p> + The Hon. Sam looked surprised. + </p> + <p> + “I think about two dollars and a half.” + </p> + <p> + “An' his meals?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” laughed Mr. Budd. + </p> + <p> + “Well, look-ee here, stranger. I'm a pore man an' I've got a mortgage on + my farm. That money don't mean nothin' to you—but if you'll draw out + now an' I win, I'll tell ye whut I'll do.” He paused as though to make + sure that the sacrifice was possible. “I'll just give ye half of that two + dollars and a half a day, as shore as you're a-settin' on that hoss, and + you won't hav' to hit a durn lick to earn it.” + </p> + <p> + I had not the heart to smile—nor did the Hon. Samuel—so + artless and simple was the man and so pathetic his appeal. + </p> + <p> + “You see—you'll divide my vote, an' ef we both run, ole Josh + Barton'll git it shore. Ef you git out o' the way, I can lick him easy.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Budd's answer was kind, instructive, and uplifted. + </p> + <p> + “My friend,” said he, “I'm sorry, but I cannot possibly accede to your + request for the following reasons: First, it would not be fair to my + constituents; secondly, it would hardly be seeming to barter the noble + gift of the people to which we both aspire; thirdly, you might lose with + me out of the way; and fourthly, I'm going to win whether you are in the + way or not.” + </p> + <p> + The horseman slowly collapsed while the Hon. Samuel was talking, and now + he threw the leg back, kicked for his stirrup twice, spat once, and turned + his horse's head. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon you will, stranger,” he said sadly, “with that gift o' gab o' + yourn.” He turned without another word or nod of good-by and started back + up the creek whence he had come. + </p> + <p> + “One gone,” said the Hon. Samuel Budd grimly, “and I swear I'm right sorry + for him.” And so was I. + </p> + <p> + An hour later we struck the river, and another hour upstream brought us to + where the contest of tongues was to come about. No sylvan dell in Arcady + could have been lovelier than the spot. Above the road, a big spring + poured a clear little stream over shining pebbles into the river; above it + the bushes hung thick with autumn leaves, and above them stood yellow + beeches like pillars of pale fire. On both sides of the road sat and + squatted the honest voters, sour-looking, disgruntled—a distinctly + hostile crowd. The Blight and my little sister drew great and curious + attention as they sat on a bowlder above the spring while I went with the + Hon. Samuel Budd under the guidance of Uncle Tommie Hendricks, who + introduced him right and left. The Hon. Samuel was cheery, but he was + plainly nervous. There were two lanky youths whose names, oddly enough, + were Budd. As they gave him their huge paws in lifeless fashion, the Hon. + Samuel slapped one on the shoulder, with the true democracy of the + politician, and said jocosely: + </p> + <p> + “Well, we Budds may not be what you call great people, but, thank God, + none of us have ever been in the penitentiary,” and he laughed loudly, + thinking that he had scored a great and jolly point. The two young men + looked exceedingly grave and Uncle Tommie panic-stricken. He plucked the + Hon. Sam by the sleeve and led him aside: + </p> + <p> + “I reckon you made a leetle mistake thar. Them two fellers' daddy died in + the penitentiary last spring.” The Hon. Sam whistled mournfully, but he + looked game enough when his opponent rose to speak—Uncle Josh + Barton, who had short, thick, upright hair, little sharp eyes, and a + rasping voice. Uncle Josh wasted no time: + </p> + <p> + “Feller-citizens,” he shouted, “this man is a lawyer—he's a + corporation lawyer”; the fearful name—pronounced “lie-yer”—rang + through the crowd like a trumpet, and like lightning the Hon. Sam was on + his feet. + </p> + <p> + “The man who says that is a liar,” he said calmly, “and I demand your + authority for the statement. If you won't give it—I shall hold you + personally responsible, sir.” + </p> + <p> + It was a strike home, and under the flashing eyes that stared + unwaveringly, through the big goggles, Uncle Josh halted and stammered and + admitted that he might have been misinformed. + </p> + <p> + “Then I advise you to be more careful,” cautioned the Hon. Samuel sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Feller-citizens,” said Uncle Josh, “if he ain't a corporation lawyer—who + is this man? Where did he come from? I have been born and raised among + you. You all know me—do you know him? Whut's he a-doin' now? He's a + fine-haired furriner, an' he's come down hyeh from the settlemints to tell + ye that you hain't got no man in yo' own deestrict that's fittin' to + represent ye in the legislatur'. Look at him—look at him! He's got + FOUR eyes! Look at his hair—hit's PARTED IN THE MIDDLE!” There was a + storm of laughter—Uncle Josh had made good—and if the Hon. + Samuel could straightway have turned bald-headed and sightless, he would + have been a happy man. He looked sick with hopelessness, but Uncle Tommie + Hendricks, his mentor, was vigorously whispering something in his ear, and + gradually his face cleared. Indeed, the Hon. Samuel was smilingly + confident when he rose. + </p> + <p> + Like his rival, he stood in the open road, and the sun beat down on his + parted yellow hair, so that the eyes of all could see, and the laughter + was still running round. + </p> + <p> + “Who is your Uncle Josh?” he asked with threatening mildness. “I know I + was not born here, but, my friends, I couldn't help that. And just as soon + as I could get away from where I was born, I came here and,” he paused + with lips parted and long finger outstretched, “and—I—came—because—I + WANTED—to come—and NOT because I HAD TO.” + </p> + <p> + Now it seems that Uncle Josh, too, was not a native and that he had left + home early in life for his State's good and for his own. Uncle Tommie had + whispered this, and the Hon. Samuel raised himself high on both toes while + the expectant crowd, on the verge of a roar, waited—as did Uncle + Joshua, with a sickly smile. + </p> + <p> + “Why did your Uncle Josh come among you? Because he was hoop-poled away + from home.” Then came the roar—and the Hon. Samuel had to quell it + with uplifted hand. + </p> + <p> + “And did your Uncle Joshua marry a mountain wife? No I He didn't think any + of your mountain women were good enough for him, so he slips down into the + settlemints and STEALS one. And now, fellow-citizens, that is just what + I'm here for—I'm looking for a nice mountain girl, and I'm going to + have her.” Again the Hon. Samuel had to still the roar, and then he went + on quietly to show how they must lose the Court-House site if they did not + send him to the legislature, and how, while they might not get it if they + did send him, it was their only hope to send only him. The crowd had grown + somewhat hostile again, and it was after one telling period, when the Hon. + Samuel stopped to mop his brow, that a gigantic mountaineer rose in the + rear of the crowd: + </p> + <p> + “Talk on, stranger; you're talking sense. I'll trust ye. You've got big + ears!” + </p> + <p> + Now the Hon. Samuel possessed a primordial talent that is rather rare in + these physically degenerate days. He said nothing, but stood quietly in + the middle of the road. The eyes of the crowd on either side of the road + began to bulge, the lips of all opened with wonder, and a simultaneous + burst of laughter rose around the Hon. Samuel Budd. A dozen men sprang to + their feet and rushed up to him—looking at those remarkable ears, as + they gravely wagged to and fro. That settled things, and as we left, the + Hon. Sam was having things his own way, and on the edge of the crowd Uncle + Tommie Hendricks was shaking his head: + </p> + <p> + “I tell ye, boys, he ain't no jackass even if he can flop his ears.” + </p> + <p> + At the river we started upstream, and some impulse made me turn in my + saddle and look back. All the time I had had an eye open for the young + mountaineer whose interest in us seemed to be so keen. And now I saw, + standing at the head of a gray horse, on the edge of the crowd, a tall + figure with his hands on his hips and looking after us. I couldn't be + sure, but it looked like the Wild Dog. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. CLOSE QUARTERS + </h2> + <p> + Two hours up the river we struck Buck. Buck was sitting on the fence by + the roadside, barefooted and hatless. + </p> + <p> + “How-dye-do?” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Purty well,” said Buck. + </p> + <p> + “Any fish in this river?” + </p> + <p> + “Several,” said Buck. Now in mountain speech, “several” means simply “a + good many.” + </p> + <p> + “Any minnows in these branches?” + </p> + <p> + “I seed several in the branch back o' our house.” + </p> + <p> + “How far away do you live?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, 'bout one whoop an' a holler.” If he had spoken Greek the Blight + could not have been more puzzled. He meant he lived as far as a man's + voice would carry with one yell and a holla. + </p> + <p> + “Will you help me catch some?” Buck nodded. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” I said, turning my horse up to the fence. “Get on behind.” + The horse shied his hind quarters away, and I pulled him back. + </p> + <p> + “Now, you can get on, if you'll be quick.” Buck sat still. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said imperturbably; “but I ain't quick.” The two girls laughed + aloud, and Buck looked surprised. + </p> + <p> + Around a curving cornfield we went, and through a meadow which Buck said + was a “nigh cut.” From the limb of a tree that we passed hung a piece of + wire with an iron ring swinging at its upturned end. A little farther was + another tree and another ring, and farther on another and another. + </p> + <p> + “For heaven's sake, Buck, what are these things?” + </p> + <p> + “Mart's a-gittin' ready fer a tourneyment.” + </p> + <p> + “A what?” + </p> + <p> + “That's whut Mart calls hit. He was over to the Gap last Fourth o' July, + an' he says fellers over thar fix up like Kuklux and go a-chargin' on + hosses and takin' off them rings with a ash-stick—'spear,' Mart + calls hit. He come back an' he says he's a-goin' to win that ar + tourneyment next Fourth o' July. He's got the best hoss up this river, and + on Sundays him an' Dave Branham goes a-chargin' along here a-picking off + these rings jus' a-flyin'; an' Mart can do hit, I'm tellin' ye. Dave's + mighty good hisself, but he ain't nowhar 'longside o' Mart.” + </p> + <p> + This was strange. I had told the Blight about our Fourth of July, and how + on the Virginia side the ancient custom of the tournament still survived. + It was on the last Fourth of July that she had meant to come to the Gap. + Truly civilization was spreading throughout the hills. + </p> + <p> + “Who's Mart?” + </p> + <p> + “Mart's my brother,” said little Buck. + </p> + <p> + “He was over to the Gap not long ago, an' he come back mad as hops—” + He stopped suddenly, and in such a way that I turned my head, knowing that + caution had caught Buck. + </p> + <p> + “What about?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothin',” said Buck carelessly; “only he's been quar ever since. My + sisters says he's got a gal over thar, an' he's a-pickin' off these rings + more'n ever now. He's going to win or bust a belly-band.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, who's Dave Branham?” + </p> + <p> + Buck grinned. “You jes axe my sister Mollie. Thar she is.” + </p> + <p> + Before us was a white-framed house of logs in the porch of which stood two + stalwart, good-looking girls. Could we stay all night? We could—there + was no hesitation—and straight in we rode. + </p> + <p> + “Where's your father?” Both girls giggled, and one said, with frank + unembarrassment: + </p> + <p> + “Pap's tight!” That did not look promising, but we had to stay just the + same. Buck helped me to unhitch the mules, helped me also to catch + minnows, and in half an hour we started down the river to try fishing + before dark came. Buck trotted along. + </p> + <p> + “Have you got a wagon, Buck?” + </p> + <p> + “What fer?” + </p> + <p> + “To bring the fish back.” Buck was not to be caught napping. + </p> + <p> + “We got that sled thar, but hit won't be big enough,” he said gravely. + “An' our two-hoss wagon's out in the cornfield. We'll have to string the + fish, leave 'em in the river and go fer 'em in the mornin'.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Buck.” The Blight was greatly amused at Buck. + </p> + <p> + Two hundred yards down the road stood his sisters over the figure of a man + outstretched in the road. Unashamed, they smiled at us. The man in the + road was “pap”—tight—and they were trying to get him home. + </p> + <p> + We cast into a dark pool farther down and fished most patiently; not a + bite—not a nibble. + </p> + <p> + “Are there any fish in here, Buck?” + </p> + <p> + “Dunno—used ter be.” The shadows deepened; we must go back to the + house. + </p> + <p> + “Is there a dam below here, Buck?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, thar's a dam about a half-mile down the river.” + </p> + <p> + I was disgusted. No wonder there were no bass in that pool. + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't you tell me that before?” + </p> + <p> + “You never axed me,” said Buck placidly. + </p> + <p> + I began winding in my line. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't no bottom to that pool,” said Buck. + </p> + <p> + Now I never saw any rural community where there was not a bottomless pool, + and I suddenly determined to shake one tradition in at least one + community. So I took an extra fish-line, tied a stone to it, and climbed + into a canoe, Buck watching me, but not asking a word. + </p> + <p> + “Get in, Buck.” + </p> + <p> + Silently he got in and I pushed off—to the centre. + </p> + <p> + “This the deepest part, Buck?” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon so.” + </p> + <p> + I dropped in the stone and the line reeled out some fifty feet and began + to coil on the surface of the water. + </p> + <p> + “I guess that's on the bottom, isn't it, Buck?” + </p> + <p> + Buck looked genuinely distressed; but presently he brightened. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, “ef hit ain't on a turtle's back.” + </p> + <p> + Literally I threw up both hands and back we trailed—fishless. + </p> + <p> + “Reckon you won't need that two-hoss wagon,” said Buck. “No, Buck, I think + not.” Buck looked at the Blight and gave himself the pleasure of his first + chuckle. A big crackling, cheerful fire awaited us. Through the door I + could see, outstretched on a bed in the next room, the limp figure of + “pap” in alcoholic sleep. The old mother, big, kind-faced, explained—and + there was a heaven of kindness and charity in her drawling voice. + </p> + <p> + “Dad didn' often git that a-way,” she said; “but he'd been out a-huntin' + hawgs that mornin' and had met up with some teamsters and gone to a + political speakin' and had tuk a dram or two of their mean whiskey, and + not havin' nothin' on his stummick, hit had all gone to his head. No, + 'pap' didn't git that a-way often, and he'd be all right jes' as soon as + he slept it off a while.” The old woman moved about with a cane and the + sympathetic Blight merely looked a question at her. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she'd fell down a year ago—and had sort o' hurt herself—didn't + do nothin', though, 'cept break one hip,” she added, in her kind, patient + old voice. Did many people stop there? Oh, yes, sometimes fifteen at a + time—they “never turned nobody away.” And she had a big family, + little Cindy and the two big girls and Buck and Mart—who was out + somewhere—and the hired man, and yes—“Thar was another boy, + but he was fitified,” said one of the big sisters. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” said the wondering Blight, but she knew that phrase + wouldn't do, so she added politely: + </p> + <p> + “What did you say?” + </p> + <p> + “Fitified—Tom has fits. He's in a asylum in the settlements.” + </p> + <p> + “Tom come back once an' he was all right,” said the old mother; “but he + worried so much over them gals workin' so hard that it plum' throwed him + off ag'in, and we had to send him back.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you work pretty hard?” I asked presently. Then a story came that was + full of unconscious pathos, because there was no hint of complaint—simply + a plain statement of daily life. They got up before the men, in order to + get breakfast ready; then they went with the men into the fields—those + two girls—and worked like men. At dark they got supper ready, and + after the men went to bed they worked on—washing dishes and clearing + up the kitchen. They took it turn about getting supper, and sometimes, one + said, she was “so plumb tuckered out that she'd drap on the bed and go to + sleep ruther than eat her own supper.” No wonder poor Tom had to go back + to the asylum. All the while the two girls stood by the fire looking, + politely but minutely, at the two strange girls and their curious clothes + and their boots, and the way they dressed their hair. Their hard life + seemed to have hurt them none—for both were the pictures of health—whatever + that phrase means. + </p> + <p> + After supper “pap” came in, perfectly sober, with a big ruddy face, giant + frame, and twinkling gray eyes. He was the man who had risen to speak his + faith in the Hon. Samuel Budd that day on the size of the Hon. Samuel's + ears. He, too, was unashamed and, as he explained his plight again, he did + it with little apology. + </p> + <p> + “I seed ye at the speakin' to-day. That man Budd is a good man. He done + somethin' fer a boy o' mine over at the Gap.” Like little Buck, he, too, + stopped short. “He's a good man an' I'm a-goin' to help him.” + </p> + <p> + Yes, he repeated, quite irrelevantly, it was hunting hogs all day with + nothing to eat and only mean whiskey to drink. Mart had not come in yet—he + was “workin' out” now. + </p> + <p> + “He's the best worker in these mountains,” said the old woman; “Mart works + too hard.” + </p> + <p> + The hired man appeared and joined us at the fire. Bedtime came, and I + whispered jokingly to the Blight: + </p> + <p> + “I believe I'll ask that good-looking one to 'set up' with me.” “Settin' + up” is what courting is called in the hills. The couple sit up in front of + the fire after everybody else has gone to bed. The man puts his arm around + the girl's neck and whispers; then she puts her arm around his neck and + whispers—so that the rest may not hear. This I had related to the + Blight, and now she withered me. + </p> + <p> + “You just do, now!” + </p> + <p> + I turned to the girl in question, whose name was Mollie. “Buck told me to + ask you who Dave Branham was.” Mollie wheeled, blushing and angry, but + Buck had darted cackling out the door. “Oh,” I said, and I changed the + subject. “What time do you get up?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, 'bout crack o' day.” I was tired, and that was discouraging. + </p> + <p> + “Do you get up that early every morning?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” was the quick answer; “a mornin' later.” + </p> + <p> + A morning later, Mollie got up, each morning. The Blight laughed. + </p> + <p> + Pretty soon the two girls were taken into the next room, which was a long + one, with one bed in one dark corner, one in the other, and a third bed in + the middle. The feminine members of the family all followed them out on + the porch and watched them brush their teeth, for they had never seen + tooth-brushes before. They watched them prepare for bed—and I could + hear much giggling and comment and many questions, all of which + culminated, by and by, in a chorus of shrieking laughter. That climax, as + I learned next morning, was over the Blight's hot-water bag. Never had + their eyes rested on an article of more wonder and humor than that water + bag. + </p> + <p> + By and by, the feminine members came back and we sat around the fire. + Still Mart did not appear, though somebody stepped into the kitchen, and + from the warning glance that Mollie gave Buck when she left the room I + guessed that the newcomer was her lover Dave. Pretty soon the old man + yawned. + </p> + <p> + “Well, mammy, I reckon this stranger's about ready to lay down, if you've + got a place fer him.” + </p> + <p> + “Git a light, Buck,” said the old woman. Buck got a light—a + chimneyless, smoking oil-lamp—and led me into the same room where + the Blight and my little sister were. Their heads were covered up, but the + bed in the gloom of one corner was shaking with their smothered laughter. + Buck pointed to the middle bed. + </p> + <p> + “I can get along without that light, Buck,” I said, and I must have been + rather haughty and abrupt, for a stifled shriek came from under the + bedclothes in the corner and Buck disappeared swiftly. Preparations for + bed are simple in the mountains—they were primitively simple for me + that night. Being in knickerbockers, I merely took off my coat and shoes. + Presently somebody else stepped into the room and the bed in the other + corner creaked. Silence for a while. Then the door opened, and the head of + the old woman was thrust in. + </p> + <p> + “Mart!” she said coaxingly; “git up thar now an' climb over inter bed with + that ar stranger.” + </p> + <p> + That was Mart at last, over in the corner. Mart turned, grumbled, and, to + my great pleasure, swore that he wouldn't. The old woman waited a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Mart,” she said again with gentle imperiousness, “git up thar now, I tell + ye—you've got to sleep with that thar stranger.” + </p> + <p> + She closed the door and with a snort Mart piled into bed with me. I gave + him plenty of room and did not introduce myself. A little more dark + silence—the shaking of the bed under the hilarity of those + astonished, bethrilled, but thoroughly unfrightened young women in the + dark corner on my left ceased, and again the door opened. This time it was + the hired man, and I saw that the trouble was either that neither Mart nor + Buck wanted to sleep with the hired man or that neither wanted to sleep + with me. A long silence and then the boy Buck slipped in. The hired man + delivered himself with the intonation somewhat of a circuit rider. + </p> + <p> + “I've been a-watchin' that star thar, through the winder. Sometimes hit + moves, then hit stands plum' still, an' ag'in hit gits to pitchin'.” The + hired man must have been touching up mean whiskey himself. Meanwhile, Mart + seemed to be having spells of troubled slumber. He would snore gently, + accentuate said snore with a sudden quiver of his body and then wake up + with a climacteric snort and start that would shake the bed. This was + repeated several times, and I began to think of the unfortunate Tom who + was “fitified.” Mart seemed on the verge of a fit himself, and I waited + apprehensively for each snorting climax to see if fits were a family + failing. They were not. Peace overcame Mart and he slept deeply, but not + I. The hired man began to show symptoms. He would roll and groan, dreaming + of feuds, <i>quorum pars magna fuit</i>, it seemed, and of religious + conversion, in which he feared he was not so great. Twice he said aloud: + </p> + <p> + “An' I tell you thar wouldn't a one of 'em have said a word if I'd been + killed stone-dead.” Twice he said it almost weepingly, and now and then he + would groan appealingly: + </p> + <p> + “O Lawd, have mercy on my pore soul!” + </p> + <p> + Fortunately those two tired girls slept—I could hear their breathing—but + sleep there was little for me. Once the troubled soul with the hoe got up + and stumbled out to the water-bucket on the porch to soothe the fever or + whatever it was that was burning him, and after that he was quiet. I awoke + before day. The dim light at the window showed an empty bed—Buck and + the hired man were gone. Mart was slipping out of the side of my bed, but + the girls still slept on. I watched Mart, for I guessed I might now see + what, perhaps, is the distinguishing trait of American civilization down + to its bed-rock, as you find it through the West and in the Southern hills—a + chivalrous respect for women. Mart thought I was asleep. Over in the + corner were two creatures the like of which I supposed he had never seen + and would not see, since he came in too late the night before, and was + going away too early now—and two angels straight from heaven could + not have stirred my curiosity any more than they already must have stirred + his. But not once did Mart turn his eyes, much less his face, toward the + corner where they were—not once, for I watched him closely. And when + he went out he sent his little sister back for his shoes, which the + night-walking hired man had accidentally kicked toward the foot of the + strangers' bed. In a minute I was out after him, but he was gone. Behind + me the two girls opened their eyes on a room that was empty save for them. + Then the Blight spoke (this I was told later). + </p> + <p> + “Dear,” she said, “have our room-mates gone?” + </p> + <p> + Breakfast at dawn. The mountain girls were ready to go to work. All looked + sorry to have us leave. They asked us to come back again, and they meant + it. We said we would like to come back—and we meant it—to see + them—the kind old mother, the pioneer-like old man, sturdy little + Buck, shy little Cindy, the elusive, hard-working, unconsciously shivery + Mart, and the two big sisters. As we started back up the river the sisters + started for the fields, and I thought of their stricken brother in the + settlements, who must have been much like Mart. + </p> + <p> + Back up the Big Black Mountain we toiled, and late in the afternoon we + were on the State line that runs the crest of the Big Black. Right on top + and bisected by that State line sat a dingy little shack, and there, with + one leg thrown over the pommel of his saddle, sat Marston, drinking water + from a gourd. + </p> + <p> + “I was coming over to meet you,” he said, smiling at the Blight, who, + greatly pleased, smiled back at him. The shack was a “blind Tiger” where + whiskey could be sold to Kentuckians on the Virginia side and to + Virginians on the Kentucky side. Hanging around were the slouching figures + of several moonshiners and the villainous fellow who ran it. + </p> + <p> + “They are real ones all right,” said Marston. “One of them killed a + revenue officer at that front door last week, and was killed by the posse + as he was trying to escape out of the back window. That house will be in + ashes soon,” he added. And it was. + </p> + <p> + As we rode down the mountain we told him about our trip and the people + with whom we had spent the night—and all the time he was smiling + curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Buck,” he said. “Oh, yes, I know that little chap. Mart had him posted + down there on the river to toll you to his house—to toll YOU,” he + added to the Blight. He pulled in his horse suddenly, turned and looked up + toward the top of the mountain. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I thought so.” We all looked back. On the edge of the cliff, far + upward, on which the “blind Tiger” sat was a gray horse, and on it was a + man who, motionless, was looking down at us. + </p> + <p> + “He's been following you all the way,” said the engineer. + </p> + <p> + “Who's been following us?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “That's Mart up there—my friend and yours,” said Marston to the + Blight. “I'm rather glad I didn't meet you on the other side of the + mountain—that's 'the Wild Dog.'” The Blight looked incredulous, but + Marston knew the man and knew the horse. + </p> + <p> + So Mart—hard-working Mart—was the Wild Dog, and he was content + to do the Blight all service without thanks, merely for the privilege of + secretly seeing her face now and then; and yet he would not look upon that + face when she was a guest under his roof and asleep. + </p> + <p> + Still, when we dropped behind the two girls I gave Marston the Hon. Sam's + warning, and for a moment he looked rather grave. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, smiling, “if I'm found in the road some day, you'll know + who did it.” + </p> + <p> + I shook my head. “Oh, no; he isn't that bad.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said Marston. + </p> + <p> + The smoke of the young engineer's coke ovens lay far below us and the + Blight had never seen a coke-plant before. It looked like Hades even in + the early dusk—the snake-like coil of fiery ovens stretching up the + long, deep ravine, and the smoke-streaked clouds of fire, trailing like a + yellow mist over them, with a fierce white blast shooting up here and + there when the lid of an oven was raised, as though to add fresh + temperature to some particular male-factor in some particular chamber of + torment. Humanity about was joyous, however. Laughter and banter and song + came from the cabins that lined the big ravine and the little ravines + opening into it. A banjo tinkled at the entrance of “Possum Trot,” sacred + to the darkies. We moved toward it. On the stoop sat an ecstatic picker + and in the dust shuffled three pickaninnies—one boy and two girls—the + youngest not five years old. The crowd that was gathered about them gave + way respectfully as we drew near; the little darkies showed their white + teeth in jolly grins, and their feet shook the dust in happy competition. + I showered a few coins for the Blight and on we went—into the mouth + of the many-peaked Gap. The night train was coming in and everybody had a + smile of welcome for the Blight—post-office assistant, drug clerk, + soda-water boy, telegraph operator, hostler, who came for the mules—and + when tired, but happy, she slipped from her saddle to the ground, she then + and there gave me what she usually reserves for Christmas morning, and + that, too, while Marston was looking on. Over her shoulder I smiled at + him. + </p> + <p> + That night Marston and the Blight sat under the vines on the porch until + the late moon rose over Wallens Ridge, and, when bedtime came, the Blight + said impatiently that she did not want to go home. She had to go, however, + next day, but on the next Fourth of July she would surely come again; and, + as the young engineer mounted his horse and set his face toward Black + Mountain, I knew that until that day, for him, a blight would still be in + the hills. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. BACK TO THE HILLS + </h2> + <p> + Winter drew a gray veil over the mountains, wove into it tiny jewels of + frost and turned it many times into a mask of snow, before spring broke + again among them and in Marston's impatient heart. No spring had ever been + like that to him. The coming of young leaves and flowers and bird-song + meant but one joy for the hills to him—the Blight was coming back to + them. All those weary waiting months he had clung grimly to his work. He + must have heard from her sometimes, else I think he would have gone to + her; but I knew the Blight's pen was reluctant and casual for anybody, + and, moreover, she was having a strenuous winter at home. That he knew as + well, for he took one paper, at least, that he might simply read her name. + He saw accounts of her many social doings as well, and ate his heart out + as lovers have done for all time gone and will do for all time to come. + </p> + <p> + I, too, was away all winter, but I got back a month before the Blight, to + learn much of interest that had come about. The Hon. Samuel Budd had + ear-wagged himself into the legislature, had moved that Court-House, and + was going to be State Senator. The Wild Dog had confined his reckless + career to his own hills through the winter, but when spring came, + migratory-like, he began to take frequent wing to the Gap. So far, he and + Marston had never come into personal conflict, though Marston kept ever + ready for him, and several times they had met in the road, eyed each other + in passing and made no hipward gesture at all. But then Marston had never + met him when the Wild Dog was drunk—and when sober, I took it that + the one act of kindness from the engineer always stayed his hand. But the + Police Guard at the Gap saw him quite often—and to it he was a + fearful and elusive nuisance. He seemed to be staying somewhere within a + radius of ten miles, for every night or two he would circle about the + town, yelling and firing his pistol, and when we chased him, escaping + through the Gap or up the valley or down in Lee. Many plans were laid to + catch him, but all failed, and finally he came in one day and gave himself + up and paid his fines. Afterward I recalled that the time of this gracious + surrender to law and order was but little subsequent to one morning when a + woman who brought butter and eggs to my little sister casually asked when + that “purty slim little gal with the snappin' black eyes was a-comin' + back.” And the little sister, pleased with the remembrance, had said + cordially that she was coming soon. + </p> + <p> + Thereafter the Wild Dog was in town every day, and he behaved well until + one Saturday he got drunk again, and this time, by a peculiar chance, it + was Marston again who leaped on him, wrenched his pistol away, and put him + in the calaboose. Again he paid his fine, promptly visited a “blind + Tiger,” came back to town, emptied another pistol at Marston on sight and + fled for the hills. + </p> + <p> + The enraged guard chased him for two days and from that day the Wild Dog + was a marked man. The Guard wanted many men, but if they could have had + their choice they would have picked out of the world of malefactors that + same Wild Dog. + </p> + <p> + Why all this should have thrown the Hon. Samuel Budd into such gloom I + could not understand—except that the Wild Dog had been so loyal a + henchman to him in politics, but later I learned a better reason, that + threatened to cost the Hon. Sam much more than the fines that, as I later + learned, he had been paying for his mountain friend. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, the Blight was coming from her Northern home through the green + lowlands of Jersey, the fat pastures of Maryland, and, as the white + dresses of schoolgirls and the shining faces of darkies thickened at the + stations, she knew that she was getting southward. All the way she was + known and welcomed, and next morning she awoke with the keen air of the + distant mountains in her nostrils and an expectant light in her happy + eyes. At least the light was there when she stepped daintily from the + dusty train and it leaped a little, I fancied, when Marston, bronzed and + flushed, held out his sunburnt hand. Like a convent girl she babbled + questions to the little sister as the dummy puffed along and she bubbled + like wine over the midsummer glory of the hills. And well she might, for + the glory of the mountains, full-leafed, shrouded in evening shadows, + blue-veiled in the distance, was unspeakable, and through the Gap the sun + was sending his last rays as though he, too, meant to take a peep at her + before he started around the world to welcome her next day. And she must + know everything at once. The anniversary of the Great Day on which all men + were pronounced free and equal was only ten days distant and preparations + were going on. There would be a big crowd of mountaineers and there would + be sports of all kinds, and games, but the tournament was to be the + feature of the day. + </p> + <p> + “A tournament?” “Yes, a tournament,” repeated the little sister, and + Marston was going to ride and the mean thing would not tell what mediaeval + name he meant to take. And the Hon. Sam Budd—did the Blight remember + him? (Indeed, she did)—had a “dark horse,” and he had bet heavily + that his dark horse would win the tournament—whereat the little + sister looked at Marston and at the Blight and smiled disdainfully. And + the Wild Dog—DID she remember him? I checked the sister here with a + glance, for Marston looked uncomfortable and the Blight saw me do it, and + on the point of saying something she checked herself, and her face, I + thought, paled a little. + </p> + <p> + That night I learned why—when she came in from the porch after + Marston was gone. I saw she had wormed enough of the story out of him to + worry her, for her face this time was distinctly pale. I would tell her no + more than she knew, however, and then she said she was sure she had seen + the Wild Dog herself that afternoon, sitting on his horse in the bushes + near a station in Wildcat Valley. She was sure that he saw her, and his + face had frightened her. I knew her fright was for Marston and not for + herself, so I laughed at her fears. She was mistaken—Wild Dog was an + outlaw now and he would not dare appear at the Gap, and there was no + chance that he could harm her or Marston. And yet I was uneasy. + </p> + <p> + It must have been a happy ten days for those two young people. Every + afternoon Marston would come in from the mines and they would go off + horseback together, over ground that I well knew—for I had been all + over it myself—up through the gray-peaked rhododendron-bordered Gap + with the swirling water below them and the gray rock high above where + another such foolish lover lost his life, climbing to get a flower for his + sweetheart, or down the winding dirt road into Lee, or up through the + beech woods behind Imboden Hill, or climbing the spur of Morris's Farm to + watch the sunset over the majestic Big Black Mountains, where the Wild Dog + lived, and back through the fragrant, cool, moonlit woods. He was doing + his best, Marston was, and he was having trouble—as every man + should. And that trouble I knew even better than he, for I had once known + a Southern girl who was so tender of heart that she could refuse no man + who really loved her she accepted him and sent him to her father, who did + all of her refusing for her. And I knew no man would know that he had won + the Blight until he had her at the altar and the priestly hand of + benediction was above her head. + </p> + <p> + Of such kind was the Blight. Every night when they came in I could read + the story of the day, always in his face and sometimes in hers; and it was + a series of ups and downs that must have wrung the boy's heart bloodless. + Still I was in good hope for him, until the crisis came on the night + before the Fourth. The quarrel was as plain as though typewritten on the + face of each. Marston would not come in that night and the Blight went + dinnerless to bed and cried herself to sleep. She told the little sister + that she had seen the Wild Dog again peering through the bushes, and that + she was frightened. That was her explanation—but I guessed a better + one. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. THE GREAT DAY + </h2> + <p> + It was a day to make glad the heart of slave or freeman. The earth was + cool from a night-long rain, and a gentle breeze fanned coolness from the + north all day long. The clouds were snow-white, tumbling, ever-moving, and + between them the sky showed blue and deep. Grass, leaf, weed and flower + were in the richness that comes to the green things of the earth just + before that full tide of summer whose foam is drifting thistle down. The + air was clear and the mountains seemed to have brushed the haze from their + faces and drawn nearer that they, too, might better see the doings of that + day. + </p> + <p> + From the four winds of heaven, that morning, came the brave and the free. + Up from Lee, down from Little Stone Gap, and from over in Scott, came the + valley-farmers—horseback, in buggies, hacks, two-horse wagons, with + wives, mothers, sisters, sweethearts, in white dresses, flowered hats, and + many ribbons, and with dinner-baskets stuffed with good things to eat—old + ham, young chicken, angel-cake and blackberry wine—to be spread in + the sunless shade of great poplar and oak. From Bum Hollow and Wildcat + Valley and from up the slopes that lead to Cracker's Neck came smaller + tillers of the soil—as yet but faintly marked by the gewgaw + trappings of the outer world; while from beyond High Knob, whose crown is + in cloud-land, and through the Gap, came the mountaineer in the primitive + simplicity of home spun and cowhide, wide-brimmed hat and poke-bonnet, + quaint speech, and slouching gait. Through the Gap he came in two streams—the + Virginians from Crab Orchard and Wise and Dickinson, the Kentuckians from + Letcher and feudal Harlan, beyond the Big Black—and not a man + carried a weapon in sight, for the stern spirit of that Police Guard at + the Gap was respected wide and far. Into the town, which sits on a plateau + some twenty feet above the level of the two rivers that all but encircle + it, they poured, hitching their horses in the strip of woods that runs + through the heart of the place, and broad ens into a primeval park that, + fan-like, opens on the oval level field where all things happen on the + Fourth of July. About the street they loitered—lovers hand in hand—eating + fruit and candy and drinking soda-water, or sat on the curb-stone, mothers + with babies at their breasts and toddling children clinging close—all + waiting for the celebration to begin. + </p> + <p> + It was a great day for the Hon. Samuel Budd. With a cheery smile and + beaming goggles, he moved among his constituents, joking with yokels, + saying nice things to mothers, paying gallantries to girls, and chucking + babies under the chin. He felt popular and he was—so popular that he + had begun to see himself with prophetic eye in a congressional seat at no + distant day; and yet, withal, he was not wholly happy. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” he said, “them fellers I made bets with in the tournament + got together this morning and decided, all of 'em, that they wouldn't let + me off? Jerusalem, it's most five hundred dollars!” And, looking the + picture of dismay, he told me his dilemma. It seems that his “dark horse” + was none other than the Wild Dog, who had been practising at home for this + tournament for nearly a year; and now that the Wild Dog was an outlaw, he, + of course, wouldn't and couldn't come to the Gap. And said the Hon. Sam + Budd: + </p> + <p> + “Them fellers says I bet I'd BRING IN a dark horse who would win this + tournament, and if I don't BRING him in, I lose just the same as though I + had brought him in and he hadn't won. An' I reckon they've got me.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess they have.” + </p> + <p> + “It would have been like pickin' money off a blackberry-bush, for I was + goin' to let the Wild Dog have that black horse o' mine—the + steadiest and fastest runner in this country—and my, how that fellow + can pick off the rings! He's been a-practising for a year, and I believe + he could run the point o' that spear of his through a lady's finger-ring.” + </p> + <p> + “You'd better get somebody else.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah—that's it. The Wild Dog sent word he'd send over another feller, + named Dave Branham, who has been practising with him, who's just as good, + he says, as he is. I'm looking for him at twelve o'clock, an' I'm goin' to + take him down an' see what he can do on that black horse o' mine. But if + he's no good, I lose five hundred, all right,” and he sloped away to his + duties. For it was the Hon. Sam who was master of ceremonies that day. He + was due now to read the Declaration of Independence in a poplar grove to + all who would listen; he was to act as umpire at the championship + base-ball game in the afternoon, and he was to give the “Charge” to the + assembled knights before the tournament. + </p> + <p> + At ten o'clock the games began—and I took the Blight and the little + sister down to the “grandstand”—several tiers of backless benches + with leaves for a canopy and the river singing through rhododendrons + behind. There was jumping broad and high, and a 100-yard dash and hurdling + and throwing the hammer, which the Blight said were not interesting—they + were too much like college sports—and she wanted to see the + base-ball game and the tournament. And yet Marston was in them all—dogged + and resistless—his teeth set and his eyes anywhere but lifted toward + the Blight, who secretly proud, as I believed, but openly defiant, + mentioned not his name even when he lost, which was twice only. + </p> + <p> + “Pretty good, isn't he?” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Who?” she said indifferently. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nobody,” I said, turning to smile, but not turning quickly enough. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with you?” asked the Blight sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, nothing at all,” I said, and straightway the Blight thought she + wanted to go home. The thunder of the Declaration was still rumbling in + the poplar grove. + </p> + <p> + “That's the Hon. Sam Budd,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you want to hear him?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't care who it is and I don't want to hear him and I think you are + hateful.” + </p> + <p> + Ah, dear me, it was more serious than I thought. There were tears in her + eyes, and I led the Blight and the little sister home—conscience-stricken + and humbled. Still I would find that young jackanapes of an engineer and + let him know that anybody who made the Blight unhappy must deal with me. I + would take him by the neck and pound some sense into him. I found him + lofty, uncommunicative, perfectly alien to any consciousness that I could + have any knowledge of what was going or any right to poke my nose into + anybody's business—and I did nothing except go back to lunch—to + find the Blight upstairs and the little sister indignant with me. + </p> + <p> + “You just let them alone,” she said severely. + </p> + <p> + “Let who alone?” I said, lapsing into the speech of childhood. + </p> + <p> + “You—just—let—them—alone,” she repeated. + </p> + <p> + “I've already made up my mind to that.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then!” she said, with an air of satisfaction, but why I don't know. + </p> + <p> + I went back to the poplar grove. The Declaration was over and the crowd + was gone, but there was the Hon. Samuel Budd, mopping his brow with one + hand, slapping his thigh with the other, and all but executing a + pigeon-wing on the turf. He turned goggles on me that literally shone + triumph. + </p> + <p> + “He's come—Dave Branham's come!” he said. “He's better than the Wild + Dog. I've been trying him on the black horse and, Lord, how he can take + them rings off! Ha, won't I get into them fellows who wouldn't let me off + this morning! Oh, yes, I agreed to bring in a dark horse, and I'll bring + him in all right. That five hundred is in my clothes now. You see that + point yonder? Well, there's a hollow there and bushes all around. That's + where I'm going to dress him. I've got his clothes all right and a name + for him. This thing is a-goin' to come off accordin' to Hoyle, Ivanhoe, + Four-Quarters-of-Beef, and all them mediaeval fellows. Just watch me!” + </p> + <p> + I began to get newly interested, for that knight's name I suddenly + recalled. Little Buck, the Wild Dog's brother, had mentioned him, when we + were over in the Kentucky hills, as practising with the Wild Dog—as + being “mighty good, but nowhar 'longside o' Mart.” So the Hon. Sam might + have a good substitute, after all, and being a devoted disciple of Sir + Walter, I knew his knight would rival, in splendor, at least, any that + rode with King Arthur in days of old. + </p> + <p> + The Blight was very quiet at lunch, as was the little sister, and my + effort to be jocose was a lamentable failure. So I gave news. + </p> + <p> + “The Hon. Sam has a substitute.” No curiosity and no question. + </p> + <p> + “Who—did you say? Why, Dave Branham, a friend of the Wild Dog. Don't + you remember Buck telling us about him?” No answer. “Well, I do—and, + by the way, I saw Buck and one of the big sisters just a while ago. Her + name is Mollie. Dave Branham, you will recall, is her sweetheart. The + other big sister had to stay at home with her mother and little Cindy, + who's sick. Of course, I didn't ask them about Mart—the Wild Dog. + They knew I knew and they wouldn't have liked it. The Wild Dog's around, I + understand, but he won't dare show his face. Every policeman in town is on + the lookout for him.” I thought the Blight's face showed a signal of + relief. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to play short-stop,” I added. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said the Blight, with a smile, but the little sister said with some + scorn: + </p> + <p> + “You!” + </p> + <p> + “I'll show you,” I said, and I told the Blight about base-ball at the Gap. + We had introduced base-ball into the region and the valley boys and + mountain boys, being swift runners, throwing like a rifle shot from + constant practice with stones, and being hard as nails, caught the game + quickly and with great ease. We beat them all the time at first, but now + they were beginning to beat us. We had a league now, and this was the + championship game for the pennant. + </p> + <p> + “It was right funny the first time we beat a native team. Of course, we + got together and cheered 'em. They thought we were cheering ourselves, so + they got red in the face, rushed together and whooped it up for themselves + for about half an hour.” + </p> + <p> + The Blight almost laughed. + </p> + <p> + “We used to have to carry our guns around with us at first when we went to + other places, and we came near having several fights.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said the Blight excitedly. “Do you think there might be a fight this + afternoon?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't know,” I said, shaking my head. “It's pretty hard for eighteen + people to fight when nine of them are policemen and there are forty more + around. Still the crowd might take a hand.” + </p> + <p> + This, I saw, quite thrilled the Blight and she was in good spirits when we + started out. + </p> + <p> + “Marston doesn't pitch this afternoon,” I said to the little sister. “He + plays first base. He's saving himself for the tournament. He's done too + much already.” The Blight merely turned her head while I was speaking. + “And the Hon. Sam will not act as umpire. He wants to save his voice—and + his head.” + </p> + <p> + The seats in the “grandstand” were in the sun now, so I left the girls in + a deserted band-stand that stood on stilts under trees on the southern + side of the field, and on a line midway between third base and the + position of short-stop. Now there is no enthusiasm in any sport that + equals the excitement aroused by a rural base-ball game and I never saw + the enthusiasm of that game outdone except by the excitement of the + tournament that followed that afternoon. The game was close and Marston + and I assuredly were stars—Marston one of the first magnitude. + “Goose-egg” on one side matched “goose-egg” on the other until the end of + the fifth inning, when the engineer knocked a home-run. Spectators threw + their hats into the trees, yelled themselves hoarse, and I saw several old + mountaineers who understood no more of base-ball than of the lost <i>digamma</i> + in Greek going wild with the general contagion. During these innings I had + “assisted” in two doubles and had fired in three “daisy cutters” to first + myself in spite of the guying I got from the opposing rooters. + </p> + <p> + “Four-eyes” they called me on account of my spectacles until a new + nickname came at the last half of the ninth inning, when we were in the + field with the score four to three in our favor. It was then that a small, + fat boy with a paper megaphone longer than he was waddled out almost to + first base and levelling his trumpet at me, thundered out in a sudden + silence: + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Foxy Grandpa!” That was too much. I got rattled, and when there + were three men on bases and two out, a swift grounder came to me, I fell—catching + it—and threw wildly to first from my knees. I heard shouts of + horror, anger, and distress from everywhere and my own heart stopped + beating—I had lost the game—and then Marston leaped in the air—surely + it must have been four feet—caught the ball with his left hand and + dropped back on the bag. The sound of his foot on it and the runner's was + almost simultaneous, but the umpire said Marston's was there first. Then + bedlam! One of my brothers was umpire and the captain of the other team + walked threateningly out toward him, followed by two of his men with + base-ball bats. As I started off myself towards them I saw, with the + corner of my eye, another brother of mine start in a run from the left + field, and I wondered why a third, who was scoring, sat perfectly still in + his chair, particularly as a well-known, red-headed tough from one of the + mines who had been officiously antagonistic ran toward the pitcher's box + directly in front of him. Instantly a dozen of the guard sprang toward it, + some man pulled his pistol, a billy cracked straightway on his head, and + in a few minutes order was restored. And still the brother scoring hadn't + moved from his chair, and I spoke to him hotly. + </p> + <p> + “Keep your shirt on,” he said easily, lifting his score-card with his left + hand and showing his right clinched about his pistol under it. + </p> + <p> + “I was just waiting for that red-head to make a move. I guess I'd have got + him first.” + </p> + <p> + I walked back to the Blight and the little sister and both of them looked + very serious and frightened. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think I want to see a real fight, after all,” said the Blight. + “Not this afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + It was a little singular and prophetic, but just as the words left her + lips one of the Police Guard handed me a piece of paper. + </p> + <p> + “Somebody in the crowd must have dropped it in my pocket,” he said. On the + paper were scrawled these words: + </p> + <p> + “<i>Look out for the Wild Dog!</i>” + </p> + <p> + I sent the paper to Marston. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. AT LAST—THE TOURNAMENT + </h2> + <p> + At last—the tournament! Ever afterward the Hon. Samuel Budd called + it “The Gentle and Joyous Passage of Arms—not of Ashby—but of + the Gap, by-suh!” The Hon. Samuel had arranged it as nearly after Sir + Walter as possible. And a sudden leap it was from the most modern of games + to a game most ancient. + </p> + <p> + No knights of old ever jousted on a lovelier field than the green little + valley toward which the Hon. Sam waved one big hand. It was level, shorn + of weeds, elliptical in shape, and bound in by trees that ran in a + semicircle around the bank of the river, shut in the southern border, and + ran back to the northern extremity in a primeval little forest that + wood-thrushes, even then, were making musical—all of it shut in by a + wall of living green, save for one narrow space through which the knights + were to enter. In front waved Wallens' leafy ridge and behind rose the + Cumberland Range shouldering itself spur by spur, into the coming sunset + and crashing eastward into the mighty bulk of Powell's Mountain, which + loomed southward from the head of the valley—all nodding sunny + plumes of chestnut. + </p> + <p> + The Hon. Sam had seen us coming from afar apparently, had come forward to + meet us, and he was in high spirits. + </p> + <p> + “I am Prince John and Waldemar and all the rest of 'em this day,” he said, + “and 'it is thus,'” quoting Sir Walter, “that we set the dutiful example + of loyalty to the Queen of Love and Beauty, and are ourselves her guide to + the throne which she must this day occupy.” And so saying, the Hon. Sam + marshalled the Blight to a seat of honor next his own. + </p> + <p> + “And how do you know she is going to be the Queen of Love and Beauty?” + asked the little sister. The Hon. Sam winked at me. + </p> + <p> + “Well, this tournament lies between two gallant knights. One will make her + the Queen of his own accord, if he wins, and if the other wins, he's got + to, or I'll break his head. I've given orders.” And the Hon. Sam looked + about right and left on the people who were his that day. + </p> + <p> + “Observe the nobles and ladies,” he said, still following Sir Walter, and + waving at the towns-people and visitors in the rude grandstand. “Observe + the yeomanry and spectators of a better degree than the mere vulgar”—waving + at the crowd on either side of the stand—“and the promiscuous + multitude down the river banks and over the woods and clinging to the + tree-tops and to yon telegraph-pole. And there is my herald”—pointing + to the cornetist of the local band—“and wait—by my halidom—please + just wait until you see my knight on that black charger o' mine.” + </p> + <p> + The Blight and the little sister were convulsed and the Hon. Sam went on: + </p> + <p> + “Look at my men-at-arms”—the volunteer policemen with bulging + hip-pockets, dangling billies and gleaming shields of office—“and at + my refreshment tents behind”—where peanuts and pink lemonade were + keeping the multitude busy—“and my attendants”—colored + gentlemen with sponges and water-buckets—“the armorers and farriers + haven't come yet. But my knight—I got his clothes in New York—just + wait—Love of Ladies and Glory to the Brave!” Just then there was a + commotion on the free seats on one side of the grandstand. A darky + starting, in all ignorance, to mount them was stopped and jostled none too + good-naturedly back to the ground. + </p> + <p> + “And see,” mused the Hon. Sam, “in lieu of the dog of an unbeliever we + have a dark analogy in that son of Ham.” + </p> + <p> + The little sister plucked me by the sleeve and pointed toward the + entrance. Outside and leaning on the fence were Mollie, the big sister, + and little Buck. Straightway I got up and started for them. They hung + back, but I persuaded them to come, and I led them to seats two tiers + below the Blight—who, with my little sister, rose smiling to greet + them and shake hands—much to the wonder of the nobles and ladies + close about, for Mollie was in brave and dazzling array, blushing + fiercely, and little Buck looked as though he would die of such + conspicuousness. No embarrassing questions were asked about Mart or Dave + Branham, but I noticed that Mollie had purple and crimson ribbons clinched + in one brown hand. The purpose of them was plain, and I whispered to the + Blight: + </p> + <p> + “She's going to pin them on Dave's lance.” The Hon. Sam heard me. + </p> + <p> + “Not on your life,” he said emphatically. “I ain't takin' chances,” and he + nodded toward the Blight. “She's got to win, no matter who loses.” He rose + to his feet suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “Glory to the Brave—they're comin'! Toot that horn, son,” he said; + “they're comin',” and the band burst into discordant sounds that would + have made the “wild barbaric music” on the field of Ashby sound like a + lullaby. The Blight stifled her laughter over that amazing music with her + handkerchief, and even the Hon. Sam scowled. + </p> + <p> + “Gee!” he said; “it is pretty bad, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Here they come!” + </p> + <p> + The nobles and ladies on the grandstand, the yeomanry and spectators of + better degree, and the promiscuous multitude began to sway expectantly and + over the hill came the knights, single file, gorgeous in velvets and in + caps, with waving plumes and with polished spears, vertical, resting on + the right stirrup foot and gleaming in the sun. + </p> + <p> + “A goodly array!” murmured the Hon. Sam. + </p> + <p> + A crowd of small boys gathered at the fence below, and I observed the Hon. + Sam's pockets bulging with peanuts. + </p> + <p> + “Largesse!” I suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Good!” he said, and rising he shouted: + </p> + <p> + “Largessy! largessy!” scattering peanuts by the handful among the + scrambling urchins. + </p> + <p> + Down wound the knights behind the back stand of the base-ball field, and + then, single file, in front of the nobles and ladies, before whom they + drew up and faced, saluting with inverted spears. + </p> + <p> + The Hon. Sam arose—his truncheon a hickory stick—and in a + stentorian voice asked the names of the doughty knights who were there to + win glory for themselves and the favor of fair women. + </p> + <p> + Not all will be mentioned, but among them was the Knight of the Holston—Athelstanic + in build—in black stockings, white negligee shirt, with Byronic + collar, and a broad crimson sash tied with a bow at his right side. There + was the Knight of the Green Valley, in green and gold, a green hat with a + long white plume, lace ruffles at his sleeves, and buckles on + dancing-pumps; a bonny fat knight of Maxwelton Braes, in Highland kilts + and a plaid; and the Knight at Large. + </p> + <p> + “He ought to be caged,” murmured the Hon. Sam; for the Knight at Large + wore plum-colored velvet, red base-ball stockings, held in place with + safety-pins, white tennis shoes, and a very small hat with a very long + plume, and the dye was already streaking his face. Marston was the last—sitting + easily on his iron gray. + </p> + <p> + “And your name, Sir Knight?” + </p> + <p> + “The Discarded,” said Marston, with steady eyes. I felt the Blight start + at my side and sidewise I saw that her face was crimson. + </p> + <p> + The Hon. Sam sat down, muttering, for he did not like Marston: + </p> + <p> + “Wenchless springal!” + </p> + <p> + Just then my attention was riveted on Mollie and little Buck. Both had + been staring silently at the knights as though they were apparitions, but + when Marston faced them I saw Buck clutch his sister's arm suddenly and + say something excitedly in her ear. Then the mouths of both tightened + fiercely and their eyes seemed to be darting lightning at the unconscious + knight, who suddenly saw them, recognized them, and smiled past them at + me. Again Buck whispered, and from his lips I could make out what he said: + </p> + <p> + “I wonder whar's Dave?” but Mollie did not answer. + </p> + <p> + “Which is yours, Mr. Budd?” asked the little sister. The Hon. Sam had + leaned back with his thumbs in the arm-holes of his white waistcoat. + </p> + <p> + “He ain't come yet. I told him to come last.” + </p> + <p> + The crowd waited and the knights waited—so long that the Mayor rose + in his seat some twenty feet away and called out: + </p> + <p> + “Go ahead, Budd.” + </p> + <p> + “You jus' wait a minute—my man ain't come yet,” he said easily, but + from various places in the crowd came jeering shouts from the men with + whom he had wagered and the Hon. Sam began to look anxious. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what is the matter?” he added in a lower tone. “I dressed him + myself more than an hour ago and I told him to come last, but I didn't + mean for him to wait till Christmas—ah!” + </p> + <p> + The Hon. Sam sank back in his seat again. From somewhere had come suddenly + the blare of a solitary trumpet that rang in echoes around the + amphitheatre of the hills and, a moment later, a dazzling something shot + into sight above the mound that looked like a ball of fire, coming in + mid-air. The new knight wore a shining helmet and the Hon. Sam chuckled at + the murmur that rose and then he sat up suddenly. There was no face under + that helmet—the Hon. Sam's knight was MASKED and the Hon. Sam + slapped his thigh with delight. + </p> + <p> + “Bully—bully! I never thought of it—I never thought of it—bully!” + </p> + <p> + This was thrilling, indeed—but there was more; the strange knight's + body was cased in a flexible suit of glistening mail, his spear point, + when he raised it on high, shone like silver, and he came on like a + radiant star—on the Hon. Sam's charger, white-bridled, with long + mane and tail and black from tip of nose to tip of that tail as midnight. + The Hon. Sam was certainly doing it well. At a slow walk the stranger drew + alongside of Marston and turned his spear point downward. + </p> + <p> + “Gawd!” said an old darky. “Ku-klux done come again.” And, indeed, it + looked like a Ku-klux mask, white, dropping below the chin, and with + eye-holes through which gleamed two bright fires. + </p> + <p> + The eyes of Buck and Mollie were turned from Marston at last, and + open-mouthed they stared. + </p> + <p> + “Hit's the same hoss—hit's Dave!” said Buck aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my Lord!” said Mollie simply. + </p> + <p> + The Hon. Sam rose again. + </p> + <p> + “And who is Sir Tardy Knight that hither comes with masked face?” he asked + courteously. He got no answer. + </p> + <p> + “What's your name, son?” + </p> + <p> + The white mask puffed at the wearer's lips. + </p> + <p> + “The Knight of the Cumberland,” was the low, muffled reply. + </p> + <p> + “Make him take that thing off!” shouted some one. + </p> + <p> + “What's he got it on fer?” shouted another. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, friend,” said the Hon. Sam; “but it is not my business nor + prithee thine; since by the laws of the tournament a knight may ride + masked for a specified time or until a particular purpose is achieved, + that purpose being, I wot, victory for himself and for me a handful of + byzants from thee.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, go ahead, Budd,” called the Mayor again. “Are you going crazy?” + </p> + <p> + The Hon. Sam stretched out his arms once to loosen them for gesture, + thrust his chest out, and uplifted his chin: “Fair ladies, nobles of the + realm, and good knights,” he said sonorously, and he raised one hand to + his mouth and behind it spoke aside to me: + </p> + <p> + “How's my voice—how's my voice?” + </p> + <p> + “Great!” His question was genuine, for the mask of humor had dropped and + the man was transformed. I knew his inner seriousness, his oratorical + command of good English, and I knew the habit, not uncommon among + stump-speakers in the South, of falling, through humor, carelessness, or + for the effect of flattering comradeship, into all the lingual sins of + rural speech; but I was hardly prepared for the soaring flight the Hon. + Sam took now. He started with one finger pointed heavenward: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The knights are dust + And their good swords are rast; + Their souls are with the saints, we trust.” + </pre> + <p> + “Scepticism is but a harmless phantom in these mighty hills. We BELIEVE + that with the saints is the GOOD knight's soul, and if, in the radiant + unknown, the eyes of those who have gone before can pierce the little + shadow that lies between, we know that the good knights of old look gladly + down on these good knights of to-day. For it is good to be remembered. The + tireless struggle for name and fame since the sunrise of history attests + it; and the ancestry worship in the East and the world-wide hope of + immortality show the fierce hunger in the human soul that the memory of it + not only shall not perish from this earth, but that, across the Great + Divide, it shall live on—neither forgetting nor forgotten. You are + here in memory of those good knights to prove that the age of chivalry is + not gone; that though their good swords are rust, the stainless soul of + them still illumines every harmless spear point before me and makes it a + torch that shall reveal, in your own hearts still aflame, their courage, + their chivalry, their sense of protection for the weak, and the honor in + which they held pure women, brave men, and almighty God. + </p> + <p> + “The tournament, some say, goes back to the walls of Troy. The form of it + passed with the windmills that Don Quixote charged. It is with you to keep + the high spirit of it an ever-burning vestal fire. It was a deadly play of + old—it is a harmless play to you this day. But the prowess of the + game is unchanged; for the skill to strike those pendent rings is no less + than was the skill to strike armor-joint, visor, or plumed crest. It was + of old an exercise for deadly combat on the field of battle; it is no less + an exercise now to you for the field of life—for the quick eye, the + steady nerve, and the deft hand which shall help you strike the mark at + which, outside these lists, you aim. And the crowning triumph is still + just what it was of old—that to the victor the Rose of his world—made + by him the Queen of Love and Beauty for us all—shall give her smile + and with her own hands place on his brow a thornless crown.” + </p> + <p> + Perfect silence honored the Hon. Samuel Budd. The Mayor was nodding + vigorous approval, the jeering ones kept still, and when after the last + deep-toned word passed like music from his lips the silence held sway for + a little while before the burst of applause came. Every knight had + straightened in his saddle and was looking very grave. Marston's eyes + never left the speaker's face, except once, when they turned with an + unconscious appeal, I thought, to the downcast face of Blight—whereat + the sympathetic little sister seemed close to tears. The Knight of the + Cumberland shifted in his saddle as though he did not quite understand + what was going on, and once Mollie, seeing the eyes through the mask-holes + fixed on her, blushed furiously, and little Buck grinned back a delighted + recognition. The Hon. Sam sat down, visibly affected by his own eloquence; + slowly he wiped his face and then he rose again. + </p> + <p> + “Your colors, Sir Knights,” he said, with a commanding wave of his + truncheon, and one by one the knights spurred forward and each held his + lance into the grandstand that some fair one might tie thereon the colors + he was to wear. Marston, without looking at the Blight, held his up to the + little sister and the Blight carelessly turned her face while the demure + sister was busy with her ribbons, but I noticed that the little ear next + to me was tingling red for all her brave look of unconcern. Only the + Knight of the Cumberland sat still. + </p> + <p> + “What!” said the Hon. Sam, rising to his feet, his eyes twinkling and his + mask of humor on again; “sees this masked springal”—the Hon. Sam + seemed much enamored of that ancient word—“no maid so fair that he + will not beg from her the boon of colors gay that he may carry them to + victory and receive from her hands a wreath therefor?” Again the Knight of + the Cumberland seemed not to know that the Hon. Sam's winged words were + meant for him, so the statesman translated them into a mutual vernacular. + </p> + <p> + “Remember what I told you, son,” he said. “Hold up yo' spear here to some + one of these gals jes' like the other fellows are doin',” and as he sat + down he tried surreptitiously to indicate the Blight with his index + finger, but the knight failed to see and the Blight's face was so + indignant and she rebuked him with such a knife-like whisper that, + humbled, the Hon. Sam collapsed in his seat, muttering: + </p> + <p> + “The fool don't know you—he don't know you.” + </p> + <p> + For the Knight of the Cumberland had turned the black horse's head and was + riding, like Ivanhoe, in front of the nobles and ladies, his eyes burning + up at them through the holes in his white mask. Again he turned, his mask + still uplifted, and the behavior of the beauties there, as on the field of + Ashby, was no whit changed: “Some blushed, some assumed an air of pride + and dignity, some looked straight forward and essayed to seem utterly + unconscious of what was going on, some drew back in alarm which was + perhaps affected, some endeavored to forbear smiling and there were two or + three who laughed outright.” Only none “dropped a veil over her charms” + and thus none incurred the suspicion, as on that field of Ashby, that she + was “a beauty of ten years' standing” whose motive, gallant Sir Walter + supposes in defence, however, was doubtless “a surfeit of such vanities + and a willingness to give a fair chance to the rising beauties of the + age.” But the most conscious of the fair was Mollie below, whose face was + flushed and whose brown fingers were nervously twisting the ribbons in her + lap, and I saw Buck nudge her and heard him whisper: + </p> + <p> + “Dave ain't going to pick YOU out, I tell ye. I heered Mr. Budd thar + myself tell him he HAD to pick out some other gal.” + </p> + <p> + “You hush!” said Mollie indignantly. + </p> + <p> + It looked as though the Knight of the Cumberland had grown rebellious and + meant to choose whom he pleased, but on his way back the Hon. Sam must + have given more surreptitious signs, for the Knight of the Cumberland + reined in before the Blight and held up his lance to her. Straightway the + colors that were meant for Marston fluttered from the Knight of the + Cumberland's spear. I saw Marston bite his lips and I saw Mollie's face + aflame with fury and her eyes darting lightning—no longer at Marston + now, but at the Blight. The mountain girl held nothing against the city + girl because of the Wild Dog's infatuation, but that her own lover, no + matter what the Hon. Sam said, should give his homage also to the Blight, + in her own presence, was too much. Mollie looked around no more. Again the + Hon. Sam rose. + </p> + <p> + “Love of ladies,” he shouted, “splintering of lances! Stand forth, gallant + knights. Fair eyes look upon your deeds! Toot again, son!” + </p> + <p> + Now just opposite the grandstand was a post some ten feet high, with a + small beam projecting from the top toward the spectators. From the end of + this hung a wire, the end of which was slightly upturned in line with the + course, and on the tip of this wire a steel ring about an inch in diameter + hung lightly. Nearly forty yards below this was a similar ring similarly + arranged; and at a similar distance below that was still another, and at + the blast from the Hon. Sam's herald, the gallant knights rode slowly, two + by two, down the lists to the western extremity—the Discarded Knight + and the Knight of the Cumberland, stirrup to stirrup, riding last—where + they all drew up in line, some fifty yards beyond the westernmost post. + This distance they took that full speed might be attained before jousting + at the first ring, since the course—much over one hundred yards long—must + be covered in seven seconds or less, which was no slow rate of speed. The + Hon. Sam arose again: + </p> + <p> + “The Knight of the Holston!” + </p> + <p> + Farther down the lists a herald took up the same cry and the good knight + of Athelstanic build backed his steed from the line and took his place at + the head of the course. + </p> + <p> + With his hickory truncheon the Hon. Sam signed to his trumpeter to sound + the onset. + </p> + <p> + “Now, son!” he said. + </p> + <p> + With the blare of the trumpet Athelstane sprang from his place and came up + the course, his lance at rest; a tinkling sound and the first ring slipped + down the knight's spear and when he swept past the last post there was a + clapping of hands, for he held three rings triumphantly aloft. And thus + they came, one by one, until each had run the course three times, the + Discarded jousting next to the last and the Knight of the Cumberland, + riding with a reckless Cave, Adsum air, the very last. At the second joust + it was quite evident that the victory lay between these two, as they only + had not lost a single ring, and when the black horse thundered by, the + Hon. Sam shouted “Brave lance!” and jollied his betting enemies, while + Buck hugged himself triumphantly and Mollie seemed temporarily to lose her + chagrin and anger in pride of her lover, Dave. On the third running the + Knight of the Cumberland excited a sensation by sitting upright, waving + his lance up and down between the posts and lowering it only when the ring + was within a few feet of its point. His recklessness cost him one ring, + but as the Discarded had lost one, they were still tied, with eight rings + to the credit of each, for the first prize. Only four others were left—the + Knight of the Holston and the Knight of the Green Valley tying with seven + rings for second prize, and the fat Maxwelton Braes and the Knight at + Large tying with six rings for the third. The crowd was eager now and the + Hon. Sam confident. On came the Knight at Large, his face a rainbow, his + plume wilted and one red base-ball stocking slipped from its moorings—two + rings! On followed the fat Maxwelton, his plaid streaming and his kilts + flapping about his fat legs—also two rings! + </p> + <p> + “Egad!” quoth the Hon. Sam. “Did yon lusty trencherman of Annie Laurie's + but put a few more layers of goodly flesh about his ribs, thereby + projecting more his frontal Falstaffian proportions, by my halidom, he + would have to joust tandem!” + </p> + <p> + On came Athelstane and the Knight of the Green Valley, both with but two + rings to their credit, and on followed the Discarded, riding easily, and + the Knight of the Cumberland again waving his lance between the posts, + each with three rings on his spear. At the end the Knight at Large stood + third, Athelstane second, and the Discarded and the Knight of the + Cumberland stood side by side at the head of the course, still even, and + now ready to end the joust, for neither on the second trial had missed a + ring. + </p> + <p> + The excitement was intense now. Many people seemed to know who the Knight + of the Cumberland was, for there were shouts of “Go it, Dave!” from + everywhere; the rivalry of class had entered the contest and now it was a + conflict between native and “furriner.” The Hon. Sam was almost beside + himself with excitement; now and then some man with whom he had made a bet + would shout jeeringly at him and the Hon. Sam would shout back defiance. + But when the trumpet sounded he sat leaning forward with his brow wrinkled + and his big hands clinched tight. Marston sped up the course first—three + rings—and there was a chorus of applauding yells. + </p> + <p> + “His horse is gittin' tired,” said the Hon. Sam jubilantly, and the + Blight's face, I noticed, showed for the first time faint traces of + indignation. The Knight of the Cumberland was taking no theatrical chances + now and he came through the course with level spear and, with three rings + on it, he shot by like a thunderbolt. + </p> + <p> + “Hooray!” shouted the Hon. Sam. “Lord, what a horse!” For the first time + the Blight, I observed, failed to applaud, while Mollie was clapping her + hands and Buck was giving out shrill yells of encouragement. At the next + tilt the Hon. Sam had his watch in his hand and when he saw the Discarded + digging in his spurs he began to smile and he was looking at his watch + when the little tinkle in front told him that the course was run. + </p> + <p> + “Did he get 'em all?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he got 'em all,” mimicked the Blight. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, an' he just did make it,” chuckled the Hon. Sam. The Discarded had + wheeled his horse aside from the course to watch his antagonist. He looked + pale and tired—almost as tired as his foam-covered steed—but + his teeth were set and his face was unmoved as the Knight of the + Cumberland came on like a demon, sweeping off the last ring with a low, + rasping oath of satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “I never seed Dave ride that-a-way afore,” said Mollie. + </p> + <p> + “Me, neither,” chimed in Buck. + </p> + <p> + The nobles and ladies were waving handkerchiefs, clapping hands, and + shouting. The spectators of better degree were throwing up their hats and + from every part of the multitude the same hoarse shout of encouragement + rose: + </p> + <p> + “Go it, Dave! Hooray for Dave!” while the boy on the telegraph-pole was + seen to clutch wildly at the crossbar on which he sat—he had come + near tumbling from his perch. + </p> + <p> + The two knights rode slowly back to the head of the lists, where the + Discarded was seen to dismount and tighten his girth. + </p> + <p> + “He's tryin' to git time to rest,” said the Hon. Sam. “Toot, son!” + </p> + <p> + “Shame!” said the little sister and the Blight both at once so severely + that the Hon. Sam quickly raised his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on,” he said, and with hand still uplifted he waited till Marston + was mounted again. “Now!” + </p> + <p> + The Discarded came on, using his spurs with every jump, the red of his + horse's nostrils showing that far away, and he swept on, spearing off the + rings with deadly accuracy and holding the three aloft, but having no need + to pull in his panting steed, who stopped of his own accord. Up went a + roar, but the Hon. Sam, covertly glancing at his watch, still smiled. That + watch he pulled out when the Knight of the Cumberland started and he + smiled still when he heard the black horse's swift, rhythmic beat and he + looked up only when that knight, shouting to his horse, moved his lance up + and down before coming to the last ring and, with a dare-devil yell, swept + it from the wire. + </p> + <p> + “Tied—tied!” was the shout; “they've got to try it again! they've + got to try it again!” + </p> + <p> + The Hon. Sam rose, with his watch in one hand and stilling the tumult with + the other. Dead silence came at once. + </p> + <p> + “I fear me,” he said, “that the good knight, the Discarded, has failed to + make the course in the time required by the laws of the tournament.” + Bedlam broke loose again and the Hon. Sam waited, still gesturing for + silence. + </p> + <p> + “Summon the time-keeper!” he said. + </p> + <p> + The time-keeper appeared from the middle of the field and nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Eight seconds!” “The Knight of the Cumberland wins,” said the Hon. Sam. + </p> + <p> + The little sister, unconscious of her own sad face, nudged me to look at + the Blight—there were tears in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + Before the grandstand the knights slowly drew up again. Marston's horse + was so lame and tired that he dismounted and let a darky boy lead him + under the shade of the trees. But he stood on foot among the other + knights, his arms folded, worn out and vanquished, but taking his bitter + medicine like a man. I thought the Blight's eyes looked pityingly upon + him. + </p> + <p> + The Hon. Sam arose with a crown of laurel leaves in his hand: + </p> + <p> + “You have fairly and gallantly won, Sir Knight of the Cumberland, and it + is now your right to claim and receive from the hands of the Queen of Love + and Beauty the chaplet of honor which your skill has justly deserved. + Advance, Sir Knight of the Cumberland, and dismount!” + </p> + <p> + The Knight of the Cumberland made no move nor sound. + </p> + <p> + “Get off yo' hoss, son,” said the Hon. Sam kindly, “and get down on yo' + knees at the feet of them steps. This fair young Queen is a-goin' to put + this chaplet on your shinin' brow. That horse'll stand.” + </p> + <p> + The Knight of the Cumberland, after a moment's hesitation, threw his leg + over the saddle and came to the steps with a slouching gait and looking + about him right and left. The Blight, blushing prettily, took the chaplet + and went down the steps to meet him. + </p> + <p> + “Unmask!” I shouted. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, son,” said the Hon. Sam, “take that rag off.” + </p> + <p> + Then Mollie's voice, clear and loud, startled the crowd. “You better not, + Dave Branham, fer if you do and this other gal puts that thing on you, + you'll never—” What penalty she was going to inflict, I don't know, + for the Knight of the Cumberland, half kneeling, sprang suddenly to his + feet and interrupted her. “Wait a minute, will ye?” he said almost + fiercely, and at the sound of his voice Mollie rose to her feet and her + face blanched. + </p> + <p> + “Lord God!” she said almost in anguish, and then she dropped quickly to + her seat again. + </p> + <p> + The Knight of the Cumberland had gone back to his horse as though to get + something from his saddle. Like lightning he vaulted into the saddle, and + as the black horse sprang toward the opening tore his mask from his face, + turned in his stirrups, and brandished his spear with a yell of defiance, + while a dozen voices shouted: + </p> + <p> + “The Wild Dog!” Then was there an uproar. + </p> + <p> + “Goddle mighty!” shouted the Hon. Sam. “I didn't do it, I swear I didn't + know it. He's tricked me—he's tricked me! Don't shoot—you + might hit that hoss!” + </p> + <p> + There was no doubt about the Hon. Sam's innocence. Instead of turning over + an outlaw to the police, he had brought him into the inner shrine of law + and order and he knew what a political asset for his enemies that insult + would be. And there was no doubt of the innocence of Mollie and Buck as + they stood, Mollie wringing her hands and Buck with open mouth and + startled face. There was no doubt about the innocence of anybody other + than Dave Branham and the dare-devil Knight of the Cumberland. + </p> + <p> + Marston had clutched at the Wild Dog's bridle and missed and the outlaw + struck savagely at him with his spear. Nobody dared to shoot because of + the scattering crowd, but every knight and every mounted policeman took + out after the outlaw and the beating of hoofs pounded over the little + mound and toward Poplar Hill. Marston ran to his horse at the upper end, + threw his saddle on, and hesitated—there were enough after the Wild + Dog and his horse was blown. He listened to the yells and sounds of the + chase encircling Poplar Hill. The outlaw was making for Lee. All at once + the yells and hoof-beats seemed to sound nearer and Marston listened, + astonished. The Wild Dog had wheeled and was coming back; he was going to + make for the Gap, where sure safety lay. Marston buckled his girth and as + he sprang on his horse, unconsciously taking his spear with him, the Wild + Dog dashed from the trees at the far end of the field. As Marston started + the Wild Dog saw him, pulled something that flashed from under his coat of + mail, thrust it back again, and brandishing his spear, he came, full speed + and yelling, up the middle of the field. It was a strange thing to happen + in these modern days, but Marston was an officer of the law and was + between the Wild Dog and the Ford and liberty through the Gap, into the + hills. The Wild Dog was an outlaw. It was Marston's duty to take him. + </p> + <p> + The law does not prescribe with what weapon the lawless shall be subdued, + and Marston's spear was the only weapon he had. Moreover, the Wild Dog's + yell was a challenge that set his blood afire and the girl both loved was + looking on. The crowd gathered the meaning of the joust—the knights + were crashing toward each other with spears at rest. There were a few + surprised oaths from men, a few low cries from women, and then dead + silence in which the sound of hoofs on the hard turf was like thunder. The + Blight's face was white and the little sister was gripping my arm with + both hands. A third horseman shot into view out of the woods at tight + angles, to stop them, and it seemed that the three horses must crash + together in a heap. With a moan the Blight buried her face on my shoulder. + She shivered when the muffled thud of body against body and the + splintering of wood rent the air; a chorus of shrieks arose about her, and + when she lifted her frightened face Marston, the Discarded, was limp on + the ground, his horse was staggering to his feet, and the Wild Dog was + galloping past her, his helmet gleaming, his eyes ablaze, his teeth set, + the handle of his broken spear clinched in his right hand, and blood + streaming down the shoulder of the black horse. She heard the shots that + were sent after him, she heard him plunge into the river, and then she saw + and heard no more. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. THE KNIGHT PASSES + </h2> + <p> + A telegram summoned the Blight a home next day. Marston was in bed with a + ragged wound in the shoulder, and I took her to tell him good-by. I left + the room for a few minutes, and when I came back their hands were + unclasping, and for a Discarded Knight the engineer surely wore a happy + though pallid face. + </p> + <p> + That afternoon the train on which we left the Gap was brought to a sudden + halt in Wildcat Valley by a piece of red flannel tied to the end of a + stick that was planted midway the track. Across the track, farther on, lay + a heavy piece of timber, and it was plain that somebody meant that, just + at that place, the train must stop. The Blight and I were seated on the + rear platform and the Blight was taking a last look at her beloved hills. + When the train started again, there was a cracking of twigs overhead and a + shower of rhododendron leaves and flowers dropped from the air at the feet + of the Blight. And when we pulled away from the high-walled cut we saw, + motionless on a little mound, a black horse, and on him, motionless, the + Knight of the Cumberland, the helmet on his head (that the Blight might + know who he was, no doubt), and both hands clasping the broken handle of + his spear, which rested across the pommel of his saddle. Impulsively the + Blight waved her hand to him and I could not help waving my hat; but he + sat like a statue and, like a statue, sat on, simply looking after us as + we were hurried along, until horse, broken shaft, and shoulders sank out + of sight. And thus passed the Knight of the Cumberland with the last gleam + that struck his helmet, spear-like, from the slanting sun. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's A Knight of the Cumberland, by John Fox Jr. + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND *** + +***** This file should be named 324-h.htm or 324-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/324/ + +Produced by Mike Lough, and 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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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: A Knight of the Cumberland + +Author: John Fox Jr. + +Release Date: July 6, 2008 [EBook #324] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND *** + + + + +Produced by Mike Lough + + + + + +A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND + +By John Fox, Jr. + + + +CONTENTS + + + + I. The Blight in the Hills + II. On the Wild Dog's Trail + III. The Auricular Talent of the Hon. Samuel Budd + IV. Close Quarters + V. Back to the Hills + VI. The Great Day + VII. At Last--The Tournament + VIII. The Knight Passes + + + + + +A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND + + + + +I. THE BLIGHT IN THE HILLS + +High noon of a crisp October day, sunshine flooding the earth with +the warmth and light of old wine and, going single-file up through +the jagged gap that the dripping of water has worn down through the +Cumberland Mountains from crest to valley-level, a gray horse and two +big mules, a man and two young girls. On the gray horse, I led the +tortuous way. After me came my small sister--and after her and like +her, mule-back, rode the Blight--dressed as she would be for a gallop in +Central Park or to ride a hunter in a horse show. + +I was taking them, according to promise, where the feet of other women +than mountaineers had never trod--beyond the crest of the Big Black--to +the waters of the Cumberland--the lair of moonshiner and feudsman, where +is yet pocketed a civilization that, elsewhere, is long ago gone. This +had been a pet dream of the Blight's for a long time, and now the dream +was coming true. The Blight was in the hills. + + +Nobody ever went to her mother's house without asking to see her even +when she was a little thing with black hair, merry face and black eyes. +Both men and women, with children of their own, have told me that she +was, perhaps, the most fascinating child that ever lived. There be some +who claim that she has never changed--and I am among them. She began +early, regardless of age, sex or previous condition of servitude--she +continues recklessly as she began--and none makes complaint. Thus was +it in her own world--thus it was when she came to mine. On the way +down from the North, the conductor's voice changed from a command to +a request when he asked for her ticket. The jacketed lord of the +dining-car saw her from afar and advanced to show her to a seat--that +she might ride forward, sit next to a shaded window and be free from the +glare of the sun on the other side. Two porters made a rush for her bag +when she got off the car, and the proprietor of the little hotel in the +little town where we had to wait several hours for the train into the +mountains gave her the bridal chamber for an afternoon nap. From this +little town to "The Gap" is the worst sixty-mile ride, perhaps, in the +world. She sat in a dirty day-coach; the smoke rolled in at the windows +and doors; the cars shook and swayed and lumbered around curves and +down and up gorges; there were about her rough men, crying children, +slatternly women, tobacco juice, peanuts, popcorn and apple cores, but +dainty, serene and as merry as ever, she sat through that ride with a +radiant smile, her keen black eyes noting everything unlovely within and +the glory of hill, tree and chasm without. Next morning at home, where +we rise early, no one was allowed to waken her and she had breakfast in +bed--for the Blight's gentle tyranny was established on sight and varied +not at the Gap. + +When she went down the street that day everybody stared surreptitiously +and with perfect respect, as her dainty black plumed figure passed; the +post-office clerk could barely bring himself to say that there was no +letter for her. The soda-fountain boy nearly filled her glass with syrup +before he saw that he was not strictly minding his own business; the +clerk, when I bought chocolate for her, unblushingly added extra weight +and, as we went back, she met them both--Marston, the young engineer +from the North, crossing the street and, at the same moment, a drunken +young tough with an infuriated face reeling in a run around the corner +ahead of us as though he were being pursued. Now we have a volunteer +police guard some forty strong at the Gap--and from habit, I started +for him, but the Blight caught my arm tight. The young engineer in three +strides had reached the curb-stone and all he sternly said was: + +"Here! Here!" + +The drunken youth wheeled and his right hand shot toward his hip pocket. +The engineer was belted with a pistol, but with one lightning movement +and an incredibly long reach, his right fist caught the fellow's jaw +so that he pitched backward and collapsed like an empty bag. Then the +engineer caught sight of the Blight's bewildered face, flushed, gripped +his hands in front of him and simply stared. At last he saw me: + +"Oh," he said, "how do you do?" and he turned to his prisoner, but the +panting sergeant and another policeman--also a volunteer--were already +lifting him to his feet. I introduced the boy and the Blight then, and +for the first time in my life I saw the Blight--shaken. Round-eyed, she +merely gazed at him. + +"That was pretty well done," I said. + +"Oh, he was drunk and I knew he would be slow." Now something curious +happened. The dazed prisoner was on his feet, and his captors were +starting with him to the calaboose when he seemed suddenly to come to +his senses. + +"Jes wait a minute, will ye?" he said quietly, and his captors, thinking +perhaps that he wanted to say something to me, stopped. The mountain +youth turned a strangely sobered face and fixed his blue eyes on the +engineer as though he were searing every feature of that imperturbable +young man in his brain forever. It was not a bad face, but the avenging +hatred in it was fearful. Then he, too, saw the Blight, his face calmed +magically and he, too, stared at her, and turned away with an oath +checked at his lips. We went on--the Blight thrilled, for she had heard +much of our volunteer force at the Gap and had seen something already. +Presently I looked back. Prisoner and captors were climbing the little +hill toward the calaboose and the mountain boy just then turned his head +and I could swear that his eyes sought not the engineer, whom we left +at the corner, but, like the engineer, he was looking at the Blight. +Whereat I did not wonder--particularly as to the engineer. He had been +in the mountains for a long time and I knew what this vision from home +meant to him. He turned up at the house quite early that night. + +"I'm not on duty until eleven," he said hesitantly, "and I thought +I'd----" + +"Come right in." + +I asked him a few questions about business and then I left him and the +Blight alone. When I came back she had a Gatling gun of eager questions +ranged on him and--happy withal--he was squirming no little. I followed +him to the gate. + +"Are you really going over into those God-forsaken mountains?" he asked. + +"I thought I would." + +"And you are going to take HER?" + +"And my sister." + +"Oh, I beg your pardon." He strode away. + +"Coming up by the mines?" he called back. + +"Perhaps will you show us around?" + +"I guess I will," he said emphatically, and he went on to risk his neck +on a ten-mile ride along a mountain road in the dark. + +"I LIKE a man," said the Blight. "I like a MAN." + +Of course the Blight must see everything, so she insisted on going to +the police court next morning for the trial of the mountain boy. The boy +was in the witness chair when we got there, and the Hon. Samuel Budd was +his counsel. He had volunteered to defend the prisoner, I was soon told, +and then I understood. The November election was not far off and the +Hon. Samuel Budd was candidate for legislature. More even, the boy's +father was a warm supporter of Mr. Budd and the boy himself might +perhaps render good service in the cause when the time came--as indeed +he did. On one of the front chairs sat the young engineer and it was a +question whether he or the prisoner saw the Blight's black plumes first. +The eyes of both flashed toward her simultaneously, the engineer colored +perceptibly and the mountain boy stopped short in speech and his pallid +face flushed with unmistakable shame. Then he went on: "He had liquered +up," he said, "and had got tight afore he knowed it and he didn't mean +no harm and had never been arrested afore in his whole life." + +"Have you ever been drunk before?" asked the prosecuting attorney +severely. The lad looked surprised. + +"Co'se I have, but I ain't goin' to agin--leastwise not in this here +town." There was a general laugh at this and the aged mayor rapped +loudly. + +"That will do," said the attorney. + +The lad stepped down, hitched his chair slightly so that his back was +to the Blight, sank down in it until his head rested on the back of the +chair and crossed his legs. The Hon. Samuel Budd arose and the Blight +looked at him with wonder. His long yellow hair was parted in the middle +and brushed with plaster-like precision behind two enormous ears, he +wore spectacles, gold-rimmed and with great staring lenses, and his face +was smooth and ageless. He caressed his chin ruminatingly and rolled +his lips until they settled into a fine resultant of wisdom, patience, +toleration and firmness. His manner was profound and his voice oily and +soothing. + +"May it please your Honor--my young friend frankly pleads guilty." He +paused as though the majesty of the law could ask no more. "He is +a young man of naturally high and somewhat--naturally, too, no +doubt--bibulous spirits. Homoepathically--if inversely--the result was +logical. In the untrammelled life of the liberty-breathing mountains, +where the stern spirit of law and order, of which your Honor is the +august symbol, does not prevail as it does here--thanks to your Honor's +wise and just dispensations--the lad has, I may say, naturally acquired +a certain recklessness of mood--indulgence which, however easily +condoned there, must here be sternly rebuked. At the same time, he knew +not the conditions here, he became exhilarated without malice, prepensey +or even, I may say, consciousness. He would not have done as he has, +if he had known what he knows now, and, knowing, he will not repeat the +offence. I need say no more. I plead simply that your Honor will temper +the justice that is only yours with the mercy that is yours--only." + +His Honor was visibly affected and to cover it--his methods being +informal--he said with sharp irrelevancy: + +"Who bailed this young feller out last night?" The sergeant spoke: + +"Why, Mr. Marston thar"--with outstretched finger toward the young +engineer. The Blight's black eyes leaped with exultant appreciation and +the engineer turned crimson. His Honor rolled his quid around in his +mouth once, and peered over his glasses: + +"I fine this young feller two dollars and costs." The young fellow had +turned slowly in his chair and his blue eyes blazed at the engineer with +unappeasable hatred. I doubt if he had heard his Honor's voice. + +"I want ye to know that I'm obleeged to ye an' I ain't a-goin' to fergit +it; but if I'd a known hit was you I'd a stayed in jail an' seen you in +hell afore I'd a been bounden to ye." + +"Ten dollars fer contempt of couht." The boy was hot now. + +"Oh, fine and be--" The Hon. Samuel Budd had him by the shoulder, the +boy swallowed his voice and his starting tears of rage, and after a +whisper to his Honor, the Hon. Samuel led him out. Outside, the engineer +laughed to the Blight: + +"Pretty peppery, isn't he?" but the Blight said nothing, and later we +saw the youth on a gray horse crossing the bridge and conducted by the +Hon. Samuel Budd, who stopped and waved him toward the mountains. The +boy went on and across the plateau, the gray Gap swallowed him. That +night, at the post-office, the Hon. Sam plucked me aside by the sleeve. + +"I know Marston is agin me in this race--but I'll do him a good turn +just the same. You tell him to watch out for that young fellow. He's all +right when he's sober, but when he's drunk--well, over in Kentucky, they +call him the Wild Dog." + + +Several days later we started out through that same Gap. The glum +stableman looked at the Blight's girths three times, and with my own +eyes starting and my heart in my mouth, I saw her pass behind her +sixteen-hand-high mule and give him a friendly tap on the rump as she +went by. The beast gave an appreciative flop of one ear and that +was all. Had I done that, any further benefit to me or mine would be +incorporated in the terms of an insurance policy. So, stating this, I +believe I state the limit and can now go on to say at last that it was +because she seemed to be loved by man and brute alike that a big man of +her own town, whose body, big as it was, was yet too small for his heart +and from whose brain things went off at queer angles, always christened +her perversely as--"The Blight." + + + + +II. ON THE WILD DOG'S TRAIL + +So up we went past Bee Rock, Preacher's Creek and Little Looney, past +the mines where high on a "tipple" stood the young engineer looking down +at us, and looking after the Blight as we passed on into a dim rocky +avenue walled on each side with rhododendrons. I waved at him and shook +my head--we would see him coming back. Beyond a deserted log-cabin we +turned up a spur of the mountain. Around a clump of bushes we came on +a gray-bearded mountaineer holding his horse by the bridle and from a +covert high above two more men appeared with Winchesters. The Blight +breathed forth an awed whisper: + +"Are they moonshiners?" + +I nodded sagely, "Most likely," and the Blight was thrilled. They might +have been squirrel-hunters most innocent, but the Blight had heard much +talk of moonshine stills and mountain feuds and the men who run them +and I took the risk of denying her nothing. Up and up we went, those +two mules swaying from side to side with a motion little short of +elephantine and, by and by, the Blight called out: + +"You ride ahead and don't you DARE look back." + +Accustomed to obeying the Blight's orders, I rode ahead with eyes to +the front. Presently, a shriek made me turn suddenly. It was nothing--my +little sister's mule had gone near a steep cliff--perilously near, as +its rider thought, but I saw why I must not look back; those two little +girls were riding astride on side-saddles, the booted little right foot +of each dangling stirrupless--a posture quite decorous but ludicrous. + +"Let us know if anybody comes," they cried. A mountaineer descended into +sight around a loop of the path above. + +"Change cars," I shouted. + +They changed and, passing, were grave, demure--then they changed again, +and thus we climbed. + +Such a glory as was below, around and above us; the air like champagne; +the sunlight rich and pouring like a flood on the gold that the beeches +had strewn in the path, on the gold that the poplars still shook high +above and shimmering on the royal scarlet of the maple and the sombre +russet of the oak. From far below us to far above us a deep curving +ravine was slashed into the mountain side as by one stroke of a gigantic +scimitar. The darkness deep down was lighted up with cool green, +interfused with liquid gold. Russet and yellow splashed the mountain +sides beyond and high up the maples were in a shaking blaze. The +Blight's swift eyes took all in and with indrawn breath she drank it all +deep down. + +An hour by sun we were near the top, which was bared of trees and +turned into rich farm-land covered with blue-grass. Along these upland +pastures, dotted with grazing cattle, and across them we rode toward the +mountain wildernesses on the other side, down into which a zigzag path +wriggles along the steep front of Benham's spur. At the edge of the +steep was a cabin and a bushy-bearded mountaineer, who looked like +a brigand, answered my hail. He "mought" keep us all night, but he'd +"ruther not, as we could git a place to stay down the spur." Could we +get down before dark? The mountaineer lifted his eyes to where the sun +was breaking the horizon of the west into streaks and splashes of yellow +and crimson. + +"Oh, yes, you can git thar afore dark." + +Now I knew that the mountaineer's idea of distance is vague--but he +knows how long it takes to get from one place to another. So we started +down--dropping at once into thick dark woods, and as we went looping +down, the deeper was the gloom. That sun had suddenly severed all +connection with the laws of gravity and sunk, and it was all the darker +because the stars were not out. The path was steep and coiled downward +like a wounded snake. In one place a tree had fallen across it, and to +reach the next coil of the path below was dangerous. So I had the +girls dismount and I led the gray horse down on his haunches. The mules +refused to follow, which was rather unusual. I went back and from a safe +distance in the rear I belabored them down. They cared neither for gray +horse nor crooked path, but turned of their own devilish wills along the +bushy mountain side. As I ran after them the gray horse started calmly +on down and those two girls shrieked with laughter--they knew no better. +First one way and then the other down the mountain went those mules, +with me after them, through thick bushes, over logs, stumps and bowlders +and holes--crossing the path a dozen times. What that path was there for +never occurred to those long-eared half asses, whole fools, and by and +by, when the girls tried to shoo them down they clambered around and +above them and struck the path back up the mountain. The horse had +gone down one way, the mules up the other, and there was no health in +anything. The girls could not go up--so there was nothing to do but go +down, which, hard as it was, was easier than going up. The path was not +visible now. Once in a while I would stumble from it and crash through +the bushes to the next coil below. Finally I went down, sliding one foot +ahead all the time--knowing that when leaves rustled under that foot I +was on the point of going astray. Sometimes I had to light a match to +make sure of the way, and thus the ridiculous descent was made with +those girls in high spirits behind. Indeed, the darker, rockier, steeper +it got, the more they shrieked from pure joy--but I was anything than +happy. It was dangerous. I didn't know the cliffs and high rocks we +might skirt and an unlucky guidance might land us in the creek-bed far +down. But the blessed stars came out, the moon peered over a farther +mountain and on the last spur there was the gray horse browsing in the +path--and the sound of running water not far below. Fortunately on the +gray horse were the saddle-bags of the chattering infants who thought +the whole thing a mighty lark. We reached the running water, struck a +flock of geese and knew, in consequence, that humanity was somewhere +near. A few turns of the creek and a beacon light shone below. The pales +of a picket fence, the cheering outlines of a log-cabin came in view and +at a peaked gate I shouted: + +"Hello!" + +You enter no mountaineer's yard without that announcing cry. It was +mediaeval, the Blight said, positively--two lorn damsels, a benighted +knight partially stripped of his armor by bush and sharp-edged rock, +a gray palfrey (she didn't mention the impatient asses that had turned +homeward) and she wished I had a horn to wind. I wanted a "horn" badly +enough--but it was not the kind men wind. By and by we got a response: + +"Hello!" was the answer, as an opened door let out into the yard a broad +band of light. Could we stay all night? The voice replied that the owner +would see "Pap." "Pap" seemed willing, and the boy opened the gate +and into the house went the Blight and the little sister. Shortly, I +followed. + +There, all in one room, lighted by a huge wood-fire, rafters above, +puncheon floor beneath--cane-bottomed chairs and two beds the only +furniture-"pap," barefooted, the old mother in the chimney-corner with +a pipe, strings of red pepper-pods, beans and herbs hanging around +and above, a married daughter with a child at her breast, two or three +children with yellow hair and bare feet all looking with all their eyes +at the two visitors who had dropped upon them from another world. The +Blight's eyes were brighter than usual--that was the only sign she gave +that she was not in her own drawing-room. Apparently she saw nothing +strange or unusual even, but there was really nothing that she did not +see or hear and absorb, as few others than the Blight can. + +Straightway, the old woman knocked the ashes out of her pipe. + +"I reckon you hain't had nothin' to eat," she said and disappeared. The +old man asked questions, the young mother rocked her baby on her knees, +the children got less shy and drew near the fireplace, the Blight and +the little sister exchanged a furtive smile and the contrast of the +extremes in American civilization, as shown in that little cabin, +interested me mightily. + +"Yer snack's ready," said the old woman. The old man carried the chairs +into the kitchen, and when I followed the girls were seated. The chairs +were so low that their chins came barely over their plates, and demure +and serious as they were they surely looked most comical. There was the +usual bacon and corn-bread and potatoes and sour milk, and the two girls +struggled with the rude fare nobly. + +After supper I joined the old man and the old woman with a +pipe--exchanging my tobacco for their long green with more satisfaction +probably to me than to them, for the long green was good, and strong and +fragrant. + +The old woman asked the Blight and the little sister many questions and +they, in turn, showed great interest in the baby in arms, whereat the +eighteen-year-old mother blushed and looked greatly pleased. + +"You got mighty purty black eyes," said the old woman to the Blight, +and not to slight the little sister she added, "An' you got mighty purty +teeth." + +The Blight showed hers in a radiant smile and the old woman turned back +to her. + +"Oh, you've got both," she said and she shook her head, as though she +were thinking of the damage they had done. It was my time now--to ask +questions. + +They didn't have many amusements on that creek, I discovered--and +no dances. Sometimes the boys went coon-hunting and there were +corn-shuckings, house-raisings and quilting-parties. + +"Does anybody round here play the banjo?" + +"None o' my boys," said the old woman, "but Tom Green's son down the +creek--he follers pickin' the banjo a leetle." "Follows pickin' "--the +Blight did not miss that phrase. + +"What do you foller fer a livin'?" the old man asked me suddenly. + +"I write for a living." He thought a while. + +"Well, it must be purty fine to have a good handwrite." This nearly +dissolved the Blight and the little sister, but they held on heroically. + +"Is there much fighting around here?" I asked presently. + +"Not much 'cept when one young feller up the river gets to tearin' up +things. I heerd as how he was over to the Gap last week--raisin' +hell. He comes by here on his way home." The Blight's eyes opened +wide--apparently we were on his trail. It is not wise for a member of +the police guard at the Gap to show too much curiosity about the lawless +ones of the hills, and I asked no questions. + +"They calls him the Wild Dog over here," he added, and then he yawned +cavernously. + +I looked around with divining eye for the sleeping arrangements soon to +come, which sometimes are embarrassing to "furriners" who are unable to +grasp at once the primitive unconsciousness of the mountaineers and, in +consequence, accept a point of view natural to them because enforced by +architectural limitations and a hospitality that turns no one seeking +shelter from any door. They were, however, better prepared than I had +hoped for. They had a spare room on the porch and just outside the door, +and when the old woman led the two girls to it, I followed with their +saddle-bags. The room was about seven feet by six and was windowless. + +"You'd better leave your door open a little," I said, "or you'll smother +in there." + +"Well," said the old woman, "hit's all right to leave the door open. +Nothin's goin' ter bother ye, but one o' my sons is out a coon-huntin' +and he mought come in, not knowin' you're thar. But you jes' holler an' +he'll move on." She meant precisely what she said and saw no humor at +all in such a possibility--but when the door closed, I could hear those +girls stifling shrieks of laughter. + +Literally, that night, I was a member of the family. I had a bed to +myself (the following night I was not so fortunate)--in one corner; +behind the head of mine the old woman, the daughter-in-law and the +baby had another in the other corner, and the old man with the two boys +spread a pallet on the floor. That is the invariable rule of courtesy +with the mountaineer, to give his bed to the stranger and take to +the floor himself, and, in passing, let me say that never, in a +long experience, have I seen the slightest consciousness--much less +immodesty--in a mountain cabin in my life. The same attitude on the +part of the visitors is taken for granted--any other indeed holds mortal +possibilities of offence--so that if the visitor has common sense, all +embarrassment passes at once. The door was closed, the fire blazed on +uncovered, the smothered talk and laughter of the two girls ceased, the +coon-hunter came not and the night passed in peace. + +It must have been near daybreak that I was aroused by the old man +leaving the cabin and I heard voices and the sound of horses' feet +outside. When he came back he was grinning. + +"Hit's your mules." + +"Who found them?" + +"The Wild Dog had 'em," he said. + + + + +III. THE AURICULAR TALENT OF THE HON. SAMUEL BUDD + +Behind us came the Hon. Samuel Budd. Just when the sun was slitting the +east with a long streak of fire, the Hon. Samuel was, with the jocund +day, standing tiptoe in his stirrups on the misty mountain top and +peering into the ravine down which we had slid the night before, and he +grumbled no little when he saw that he, too, must get off his horse +and slide down. The Hon. Samuel was ambitious, Southern, and a lawyer. +Without saying, it goes that he was also a politician. He was not a +native of the mountains, but he had cast his fortunes in the highlands, +and he was taking the first step that he hoped would, before many +years, land him in the National Capitol. He really knew little about the +mountaineers, even now, and he had never been among his constituents on +Devil's Fork, where he was bound now. The campaign had so far been full +of humor and full of trials--not the least of which sprang from the fact +that it was sorghum time. Everybody through the mountains was making +sorghum, and every mountain child was eating molasses. + +Now, as the world knows, the straightest way to the heart of the honest +voter is through the women of the land, and the straightest way to the +heart of the women is through the children of the land; and one method +of winning both, with rural politicians, is to kiss the babies wide and +far. So as each infant, at sorghum time, has a circle of green-brown +stickiness about his chubby lips, and as the Hon. Sam was averse to +"long sweetenin'" even in his coffee, this particular political device +just now was no small trial to the Hon. Samuel Budd. But in the language +of one of his firmest supporters Uncle Tommie Hendricks: + +"The Hon. Sam done his duty, and he done it damn well." + +The issue at stake was the site of the new Court-House--two localities +claiming the right undisputed, because they were the only two places +in the county where there was enough level land for the Court-House +to stand on. Let no man think this a trivial issue. There had been a +similar one over on the Virginia side once, and the opposing factions +agreed to decide the question by the ancient wager of battle, fist and +skull--two hundred men on each side--and the women of the county with +difficulty prevented the fight. Just now, Mr. Budd was on his way to +"The Pocket"--the voting place of one faction--where he had never been, +where the hostility against him was most bitter, and, that day, he knew +he was "up against" Waterloo, the crossing of the Rubicon, holding the +pass at Thermopylae, or any other historical crisis in the history of +man. I was saddling the mules when the cackling of geese in the creek +announced the coming of the Hon. Samuel Budd, coming with his chin on +his breast-deep in thought. Still his eyes beamed cheerily, he lifted +his slouched hat gallantly to the Blight and the little sister, and he +would wait for us to jog along with him. I told him of our troubles, +meanwhile. The Wild Dog had restored our mules and the Hon. Sam beamed: + +"He's a wonder--where is he?" + +"He never waited--even for thanks." + +Again the Hon. Sam beamed: + +"Ah! just like him. He's gone ahead to help me." + +"Well, how did he happen to be here?" I asked. + +"He's everywhere," said the Hon. Sam. + +"How did he know the mules were ours?" + +"Easy. That boy knows everything." + +"Well, why did he bring them back and then leave so mysteriously?" + +The Hon. Sam silently pointed a finger at the laughing Blight ahead, and +I looked incredulous. + +"Just the same, that's another reason I told you to warn Marston. He's +already got it in his head that Marston is his rival." + +"Pshaw!" I said--for it was too ridiculous. + +"All right," said the Hon. Sam placidly. + +"Then why doesn't he want to see her?" "How do you know he ain't +watchin' her now, for all we know? Mark me," he added, "you won't see +him at the speakin', but I'll bet fruit cake agin gingerbread he'll be +somewhere around." + +So we went on, the two girls leading the way and the Hon. Sam now +telling his political troubles to me. Half a mile down the road, a +solitary horseman stood waiting, and Mr. Budd gave a low whistle. + +"One o' my rivals," he said, from the corner of his mouth. + +"Mornin'," said the horseman; "lemme see you a minute." + +He made a movement to draw aside, but the Hon. Samuel made a +counter-gesture of dissent. + +"This gentleman is a friend of mine," he said firmly, but with great +courtesy, "and he can hear what you have to say to me." + +The mountaineer rubbed one huge hand over his stubbly chin, threw one of +his long legs over the pommel of his saddle, and dangled a heavy cowhide +shoe to and fro. + +"Would you mind tellin' me whut pay a member of the House of Legislatur' +gits a day?" + +The Hon. Sam looked surprised. + +"I think about two dollars and a half." + +"An' his meals?" + +"No!" laughed Mr. Budd. + +"Well, look-ee here, stranger. I'm a pore man an' I've got a mortgage +on my farm. That money don't mean nothin' to you--but if you'll draw out +now an' I win, I'll tell ye whut I'll do." He paused as though to make +sure that the sacrifice was possible. "I'll just give ye half of that +two dollars and a half a day, as shore as you're a-settin' on that hoss, +and you won't hav' to hit a durn lick to earn it." + +I had not the heart to smile--nor did the Hon. Samuel--so artless and +simple was the man and so pathetic his appeal. + +"You see--you'll divide my vote, an' ef we both run, ole Josh Barton'll +git it shore. Ef you git out o' the way, I can lick him easy." + +Mr. Budd's answer was kind, instructive, and uplifted. + +"My friend," said he, "I'm sorry, but I cannot possibly accede to your +request for the following reasons: First, it would not be fair to my +constituents; secondly, it would hardly be seeming to barter the noble +gift of the people to which we both aspire; thirdly, you might lose with +me out of the way; and fourthly, I'm going to win whether you are in the +way or not." + +The horseman slowly collapsed while the Hon. Samuel was talking, and +now he threw the leg back, kicked for his stirrup twice, spat once, and +turned his horse's head. + +"I reckon you will, stranger," he said sadly, "with that gift o' gab +o' yourn." He turned without another word or nod of good-by and started +back up the creek whence he had come. + +"One gone," said the Hon. Samuel Budd grimly, "and I swear I'm right +sorry for him." And so was I. + +An hour later we struck the river, and another hour upstream brought +us to where the contest of tongues was to come about. No sylvan dell +in Arcady could have been lovelier than the spot. Above the road, a big +spring poured a clear little stream over shining pebbles into the river; +above it the bushes hung thick with autumn leaves, and above them stood +yellow beeches like pillars of pale fire. On both sides of the road sat +and squatted the honest voters, sour-looking, disgruntled--a distinctly +hostile crowd. The Blight and my little sister drew great and curious +attention as they sat on a bowlder above the spring while I went with +the Hon. Samuel Budd under the guidance of Uncle Tommie Hendricks, who +introduced him right and left. The Hon. Samuel was cheery, but he was +plainly nervous. There were two lanky youths whose names, oddly enough, +were Budd. As they gave him their huge paws in lifeless fashion, the +Hon. Samuel slapped one on the shoulder, with the true democracy of the +politician, and said jocosely: + +"Well, we Budds may not be what you call great people, but, thank God, +none of us have ever been in the penitentiary," and he laughed loudly, +thinking that he had scored a great and jolly point. The two young men +looked exceedingly grave and Uncle Tommie panic-stricken. He plucked the +Hon. Sam by the sleeve and led him aside: + +"I reckon you made a leetle mistake thar. Them two fellers' daddy died +in the penitentiary last spring." The Hon. Sam whistled mournfully, +but he looked game enough when his opponent rose to speak--Uncle Josh +Barton, who had short, thick, upright hair, little sharp eyes, and a +rasping voice. Uncle Josh wasted no time: + +"Feller-citizens," he shouted, "this man is a lawyer--he's a corporation +lawyer"; the fearful name--pronounced "lie-yer"--rang through the crowd +like a trumpet, and like lightning the Hon. Sam was on his feet. + +"The man who says that is a liar," he said calmly, "and I demand your +authority for the statement. If you won't give it--I shall hold you +personally responsible, sir." + +It was a strike home, and under the flashing eyes that stared +unwaveringly, through the big goggles, Uncle Josh halted and stammered +and admitted that he might have been misinformed. + +"Then I advise you to be more careful," cautioned the Hon. Samuel +sharply. + +"Feller-citizens," said Uncle Josh, "if he ain't a corporation +lawyer--who is this man? Where did he come from? I have been born and +raised among you. You all know me--do you know him? Whut's he a-doin' +now? He's a fine-haired furriner, an' he's come down hyeh from the +settlemints to tell ye that you hain't got no man in yo' own deestrict +that's fittin' to represent ye in the legislatur'. Look at him--look at +him! He's got FOUR eyes! Look at his hair--hit's PARTED IN THE MIDDLE!" +There was a storm of laughter--Uncle Josh had made good--and if the Hon. +Samuel could straightway have turned bald-headed and sightless, he +would have been a happy man. He looked sick with hopelessness, but Uncle +Tommie Hendricks, his mentor, was vigorously whispering something in +his ear, and gradually his face cleared. Indeed, the Hon. Samuel was +smilingly confident when he rose. + +Like his rival, he stood in the open road, and the sun beat down on his +parted yellow hair, so that the eyes of all could see, and the laughter +was still running round. + +"Who is your Uncle Josh?" he asked with threatening mildness. "I know +I was not born here, but, my friends, I couldn't help that. And just +as soon as I could get away from where I was born, I came here and," +he paused with lips parted and long finger outstretched, +"and--I--came--because--I WANTED--to come--and NOT because I HAD TO." + +Now it seems that Uncle Josh, too, was not a native and that he had left +home early in life for his State's good and for his own. Uncle Tommie +had whispered this, and the Hon. Samuel raised himself high on both toes +while the expectant crowd, on the verge of a roar, waited--as did Uncle +Joshua, with a sickly smile. + +"Why did your Uncle Josh come among you? Because he was hoop-poled away +from home." Then came the roar--and the Hon. Samuel had to quell it with +uplifted hand. + +"And did your Uncle Joshua marry a mountain wife? No I He didn't think +any of your mountain women were good enough for him, so he slips down +into the settlemints and STEALS one. And now, fellow-citizens, that is +just what I'm here for--I'm looking for a nice mountain girl, and I'm +going to have her." Again the Hon. Samuel had to still the roar, and +then he went on quietly to show how they must lose the Court-House site +if they did not send him to the legislature, and how, while they might +not get it if they did send him, it was their only hope to send only +him. The crowd had grown somewhat hostile again, and it was after one +telling period, when the Hon. Samuel stopped to mop his brow, that a +gigantic mountaineer rose in the rear of the crowd: + +"Talk on, stranger; you're talking sense. I'll trust ye. You've got big +ears!" + +Now the Hon. Samuel possessed a primordial talent that is rather rare in +these physically degenerate days. He said nothing, but stood quietly in +the middle of the road. The eyes of the crowd on either side of the road +began to bulge, the lips of all opened with wonder, and a simultaneous +burst of laughter rose around the Hon. Samuel Budd. A dozen men sprang +to their feet and rushed up to him--looking at those remarkable ears, as +they gravely wagged to and fro. That settled things, and as we left, +the Hon. Sam was having things his own way, and on the edge of the crowd +Uncle Tommie Hendricks was shaking his head: + +"I tell ye, boys, he ain't no jackass even if he can flop his ears." + +At the river we started upstream, and some impulse made me turn in my +saddle and look back. All the time I had had an eye open for the young +mountaineer whose interest in us seemed to be so keen. And now I saw, +standing at the head of a gray horse, on the edge of the crowd, a tall +figure with his hands on his hips and looking after us. I couldn't be +sure, but it looked like the Wild Dog. + + + + +IV. CLOSE QUARTERS + +Two hours up the river we struck Buck. Buck was sitting on the fence by +the roadside, barefooted and hatless. + +"How-dye-do?" I said. + +"Purty well," said Buck. + +"Any fish in this river?" + +"Several," said Buck. Now in mountain speech, "several" means simply "a +good many." + +"Any minnows in these branches?" + +"I seed several in the branch back o' our house." + +"How far away do you live?" + +"Oh, 'bout one whoop an' a holler." If he had spoken Greek the Blight +could not have been more puzzled. He meant he lived as far as a man's +voice would carry with one yell and a holla. + +"Will you help me catch some?" Buck nodded. + +"All right," I said, turning my horse up to the fence. "Get on behind." +The horse shied his hind quarters away, and I pulled him back. + +"Now, you can get on, if you'll be quick." Buck sat still. + +"Yes," he said imperturbably; "but I ain't quick." The two girls laughed +aloud, and Buck looked surprised. + +Around a curving cornfield we went, and through a meadow which Buck said +was a "nigh cut." From the limb of a tree that we passed hung a piece +of wire with an iron ring swinging at its upturned end. A little farther +was another tree and another ring, and farther on another and another. + +"For heaven's sake, Buck, what are these things?" + +"Mart's a-gittin' ready fer a tourneyment." + +"A what?" + +"That's whut Mart calls hit. He was over to the Gap last Fourth o' July, +an' he says fellers over thar fix up like Kuklux and go a-chargin' on +hosses and takin' off them rings with a ash-stick--'spear,' Mart calls +hit. He come back an' he says he's a-goin' to win that ar tourneyment +next Fourth o' July. He's got the best hoss up this river, and on +Sundays him an' Dave Branham goes a-chargin' along here a-picking off +these rings jus' a-flyin'; an' Mart can do hit, I'm tellin' ye. Dave's +mighty good hisself, but he ain't nowhar 'longside o' Mart." + +This was strange. I had told the Blight about our Fourth of July, and +how on the Virginia side the ancient custom of the tournament still +survived. It was on the last Fourth of July that she had meant to come +to the Gap. Truly civilization was spreading throughout the hills. + +"Who's Mart?" + +"Mart's my brother," said little Buck. + +"He was over to the Gap not long ago, an' he come back mad as hops--" He +stopped suddenly, and in such a way that I turned my head, knowing that +caution had caught Buck. + +"What about?" + +"Oh, nothin'," said Buck carelessly; "only he's been quar ever since. +My sisters says he's got a gal over thar, an' he's a-pickin' off these +rings more'n ever now. He's going to win or bust a belly-band." + +"Well, who's Dave Branham?" + +Buck grinned. "You jes axe my sister Mollie. Thar she is." + +Before us was a white-framed house of logs in the porch of which +stood two stalwart, good-looking girls. Could we stay all night? We +could--there was no hesitation--and straight in we rode. + +"Where's your father?" Both girls giggled, and one said, with frank +unembarrassment: + +"Pap's tight!" That did not look promising, but we had to stay just +the same. Buck helped me to unhitch the mules, helped me also to catch +minnows, and in half an hour we started down the river to try fishing +before dark came. Buck trotted along. + +"Have you got a wagon, Buck?" + +"What fer?" + +"To bring the fish back." Buck was not to be caught napping. + +"We got that sled thar, but hit won't be big enough," he said gravely. +"An' our two-hoss wagon's out in the cornfield. We'll have to string the +fish, leave 'em in the river and go fer 'em in the mornin'." + +"All right, Buck." The Blight was greatly amused at Buck. + +Two hundred yards down the road stood his sisters over the figure of a +man outstretched in the road. Unashamed, they smiled at us. The man in +the road was "pap"--tight--and they were trying to get him home. + +We cast into a dark pool farther down and fished most patiently; not a +bite--not a nibble. + +"Are there any fish in here, Buck?" + +"Dunno--used ter be." The shadows deepened; we must go back to the +house. + +"Is there a dam below here, Buck?" + +"Yes, thar's a dam about a half-mile down the river." + +I was disgusted. No wonder there were no bass in that pool. + +"Why didn't you tell me that before?" + +"You never axed me," said Buck placidly. + +I began winding in my line. + +"Ain't no bottom to that pool," said Buck. + +Now I never saw any rural community where there was not a bottomless +pool, and I suddenly determined to shake one tradition in at least one +community. So I took an extra fish-line, tied a stone to it, and climbed +into a canoe, Buck watching me, but not asking a word. + +"Get in, Buck." + +Silently he got in and I pushed off--to the centre. + +"This the deepest part, Buck?" + +"I reckon so." + +I dropped in the stone and the line reeled out some fifty feet and began +to coil on the surface of the water. + +"I guess that's on the bottom, isn't it, Buck?" + +Buck looked genuinely distressed; but presently he brightened. + +"Yes," he said, "ef hit ain't on a turtle's back." + +Literally I threw up both hands and back we trailed--fishless. + +"Reckon you won't need that two-hoss wagon," said Buck. "No, Buck, I +think not." Buck looked at the Blight and gave himself the pleasure of +his first chuckle. A big crackling, cheerful fire awaited us. Through +the door I could see, outstretched on a bed in the next room, the limp +figure of "pap" in alcoholic sleep. The old mother, big, kind-faced, +explained--and there was a heaven of kindness and charity in her +drawling voice. + +"Dad didn' often git that a-way," she said; "but he'd been out a-huntin' +hawgs that mornin' and had met up with some teamsters and gone to a +political speakin' and had tuk a dram or two of their mean whiskey, and +not havin' nothin' on his stummick, hit had all gone to his head. No, +'pap' didn't git that a-way often, and he'd be all right jes' as soon as +he slept it off a while." The old woman moved about with a cane and the +sympathetic Blight merely looked a question at her. + +"Yes, she'd fell down a year ago--and had sort o' hurt herself--didn't +do nothin', though, 'cept break one hip," she added, in her kind, +patient old voice. Did many people stop there? Oh, yes, sometimes +fifteen at a time--they "never turned nobody away." And she had a big +family, little Cindy and the two big girls and Buck and Mart--who was +out somewhere--and the hired man, and yes--"Thar was another boy, but he +was fitified," said one of the big sisters. + +"I beg your pardon," said the wondering Blight, but she knew that phrase +wouldn't do, so she added politely: + +"What did you say?" + +"Fitified--Tom has fits. He's in a asylum in the settlements." + +"Tom come back once an' he was all right," said the old mother; "but he +worried so much over them gals workin' so hard that it plum' throwed him +off ag'in, and we had to send him back." + +"Do you work pretty hard?" I asked presently. Then a story came that +was full of unconscious pathos, because there was no hint of +complaint--simply a plain statement of daily life. They got up before +the men, in order to get breakfast ready; then they went with the men +into the fields--those two girls--and worked like men. At dark they +got supper ready, and after the men went to bed they worked on--washing +dishes and clearing up the kitchen. They took it turn about getting +supper, and sometimes, one said, she was "so plumb tuckered out that +she'd drap on the bed and go to sleep ruther than eat her own supper." +No wonder poor Tom had to go back to the asylum. All the while the +two girls stood by the fire looking, politely but minutely, at the two +strange girls and their curious clothes and their boots, and the way +they dressed their hair. Their hard life seemed to have hurt them +none--for both were the pictures of health--whatever that phrase means. + +After supper "pap" came in, perfectly sober, with a big ruddy face, +giant frame, and twinkling gray eyes. He was the man who had risen to +speak his faith in the Hon. Samuel Budd that day on the size of the Hon. +Samuel's ears. He, too, was unashamed and, as he explained his plight +again, he did it with little apology. + +"I seed ye at the speakin' to-day. That man Budd is a good man. He done +somethin' fer a boy o' mine over at the Gap." Like little Buck, he, too, +stopped short. "He's a good man an' I'm a-goin' to help him." + +Yes, he repeated, quite irrelevantly, it was hunting hogs all day with +nothing to eat and only mean whiskey to drink. Mart had not come in +yet--he was "workin' out" now. + +"He's the best worker in these mountains," said the old woman; "Mart +works too hard." + +The hired man appeared and joined us at the fire. Bedtime came, and I +whispered jokingly to the Blight: + +"I believe I'll ask that good-looking one to 'set up' with me." "Settin' +up" is what courting is called in the hills. The couple sit up in front +of the fire after everybody else has gone to bed. The man puts his arm +around the girl's neck and whispers; then she puts her arm around his +neck and whispers--so that the rest may not hear. This I had related to +the Blight, and now she withered me. + +"You just do, now!" + +I turned to the girl in question, whose name was Mollie. "Buck told me +to ask you who Dave Branham was." Mollie wheeled, blushing and angry, +but Buck had darted cackling out the door. "Oh," I said, and I changed +the subject. "What time do you get up?" + +"Oh, 'bout crack o' day." I was tired, and that was discouraging. + +"Do you get up that early every morning?" + +"No," was the quick answer; "a mornin' later." + +A morning later, Mollie got up, each morning. The Blight laughed. + +Pretty soon the two girls were taken into the next room, which was a +long one, with one bed in one dark corner, one in the other, and a third +bed in the middle. The feminine members of the family all followed them +out on the porch and watched them brush their teeth, for they had never +seen tooth-brushes before. They watched them prepare for bed--and I +could hear much giggling and comment and many questions, all of which +culminated, by and by, in a chorus of shrieking laughter. That climax, +as I learned next morning, was over the Blight's hot-water bag. Never +had their eyes rested on an article of more wonder and humor than that +water bag. + +By and by, the feminine members came back and we sat around the fire. +Still Mart did not appear, though somebody stepped into the kitchen, and +from the warning glance that Mollie gave Buck when she left the room I +guessed that the newcomer was her lover Dave. Pretty soon the old man +yawned. + +"Well, mammy, I reckon this stranger's about ready to lay down, if +you've got a place fer him." + +"Git a light, Buck," said the old woman. Buck got a light--a +chimneyless, smoking oil-lamp--and led me into the same room where the +Blight and my little sister were. Their heads were covered up, but +the bed in the gloom of one corner was shaking with their smothered +laughter. Buck pointed to the middle bed. + +"I can get along without that light, Buck," I said, and I must have +been rather haughty and abrupt, for a stifled shriek came from under the +bedclothes in the corner and Buck disappeared swiftly. Preparations for +bed are simple in the mountains--they were primitively simple for me +that night. Being in knickerbockers, I merely took off my coat and +shoes. Presently somebody else stepped into the room and the bed in the +other corner creaked. Silence for a while. Then the door opened, and the +head of the old woman was thrust in. + +"Mart!" she said coaxingly; "git up thar now an' climb over inter bed +with that ar stranger." + +That was Mart at last, over in the corner. Mart turned, grumbled, and, +to my great pleasure, swore that he wouldn't. The old woman waited a +moment. + +"Mart," she said again with gentle imperiousness, "git up thar now, I +tell ye--you've got to sleep with that thar stranger." + +She closed the door and with a snort Mart piled into bed with me. I +gave him plenty of room and did not introduce myself. A little more dark +silence--the shaking of the bed under the hilarity of those astonished, +bethrilled, but thoroughly unfrightened young women in the dark corner +on my left ceased, and again the door opened. This time it was the hired +man, and I saw that the trouble was either that neither Mart nor Buck +wanted to sleep with the hired man or that neither wanted to sleep +with me. A long silence and then the boy Buck slipped in. The hired man +delivered himself with the intonation somewhat of a circuit rider. + +"I've been a-watchin' that star thar, through the winder. Sometimes hit +moves, then hit stands plum' still, an' ag'in hit gits to pitchin'." The +hired man must have been touching up mean whiskey himself. Meanwhile, +Mart seemed to be having spells of troubled slumber. He would snore +gently, accentuate said snore with a sudden quiver of his body and then +wake up with a climacteric snort and start that would shake the bed. +This was repeated several times, and I began to think of the unfortunate +Tom who was "fitified." Mart seemed on the verge of a fit himself, and +I waited apprehensively for each snorting climax to see if fits were a +family failing. They were not. Peace overcame Mart and he slept deeply, +but not I. The hired man began to show symptoms. He would roll and +groan, dreaming of feuds, _quorum pars magna fuit_, it seemed, and of +religious conversion, in which he feared he was not so great. Twice he +said aloud: + +"An' I tell you thar wouldn't a one of 'em have said a word if I'd been +killed stone-dead." Twice he said it almost weepingly, and now and then +he would groan appealingly: + +"O Lawd, have mercy on my pore soul!" + +Fortunately those two tired girls slept--I could hear their +breathing--but sleep there was little for me. Once the troubled soul +with the hoe got up and stumbled out to the water-bucket on the porch to +soothe the fever or whatever it was that was burning him, and after that +he was quiet. I awoke before day. The dim light at the window showed an +empty bed--Buck and the hired man were gone. Mart was slipping out of +the side of my bed, but the girls still slept on. I watched Mart, for +I guessed I might now see what, perhaps, is the distinguishing trait of +American civilization down to its bed-rock, as you find it through the +West and in the Southern hills--a chivalrous respect for women. Mart +thought I was asleep. Over in the corner were two creatures the like of +which I supposed he had never seen and would not see, since he came in +too late the night before, and was going away too early now--and two +angels straight from heaven could not have stirred my curiosity any more +than they already must have stirred his. But not once did Mart turn his +eyes, much less his face, toward the corner where they were--not once, +for I watched him closely. And when he went out he sent his little +sister back for his shoes, which the night-walking hired man had +accidentally kicked toward the foot of the strangers' bed. In a minute I +was out after him, but he was gone. Behind me the two girls opened their +eyes on a room that was empty save for them. Then the Blight spoke (this +I was told later). + +"Dear," she said, "have our room-mates gone?" + +Breakfast at dawn. The mountain girls were ready to go to work. All +looked sorry to have us leave. They asked us to come back again, and +they meant it. We said we would like to come back--and we meant it--to +see them--the kind old mother, the pioneer-like old man, sturdy little +Buck, shy little Cindy, the elusive, hard-working, unconsciously shivery +Mart, and the two big sisters. As we started back up the river the +sisters started for the fields, and I thought of their stricken brother +in the settlements, who must have been much like Mart. + +Back up the Big Black Mountain we toiled, and late in the afternoon we +were on the State line that runs the crest of the Big Black. Right on +top and bisected by that State line sat a dingy little shack, and there, +with one leg thrown over the pommel of his saddle, sat Marston, drinking +water from a gourd. + +"I was coming over to meet you," he said, smiling at the Blight, who, +greatly pleased, smiled back at him. The shack was a "blind Tiger" +where whiskey could be sold to Kentuckians on the Virginia side and +to Virginians on the Kentucky side. Hanging around were the slouching +figures of several moonshiners and the villainous fellow who ran it. + +"They are real ones all right," said Marston. "One of them killed a +revenue officer at that front door last week, and was killed by the +posse as he was trying to escape out of the back window. That house will +be in ashes soon," he added. And it was. + +As we rode down the mountain we told him about our trip and the people +with whom we had spent the night--and all the time he was smiling +curiously. + +"Buck," he said. "Oh, yes, I know that little chap. Mart had him posted +down there on the river to toll you to his house--to toll YOU," he added +to the Blight. He pulled in his horse suddenly, turned and looked up +toward the top of the mountain. + +"Ah, I thought so." We all looked back. On the edge of the cliff, far +upward, on which the "blind Tiger" sat was a gray horse, and on it was a +man who, motionless, was looking down at us. + +"He's been following you all the way," said the engineer. + +"Who's been following us?" I asked. + +"That's Mart up there--my friend and yours," said Marston to the +Blight. "I'm rather glad I didn't meet you on the other side of the +mountain--that's 'the Wild Dog.'" The Blight looked incredulous, but +Marston knew the man and knew the horse. + +So Mart--hard-working Mart--was the Wild Dog, and he was content to +do the Blight all service without thanks, merely for the privilege of +secretly seeing her face now and then; and yet he would not look upon +that face when she was a guest under his roof and asleep. + +Still, when we dropped behind the two girls I gave Marston the Hon. +Sam's warning, and for a moment he looked rather grave. + +"Well," he said, smiling, "if I'm found in the road some day, you'll +know who did it." + +I shook my head. "Oh, no; he isn't that bad." + +"I don't know," said Marston. + + +The smoke of the young engineer's coke ovens lay far below us and the +Blight had never seen a coke-plant before. It looked like Hades even +in the early dusk--the snake-like coil of fiery ovens stretching up the +long, deep ravine, and the smoke-streaked clouds of fire, trailing like +a yellow mist over them, with a fierce white blast shooting up here +and there when the lid of an oven was raised, as though to add fresh +temperature to some particular male-factor in some particular chamber +of torment. Humanity about was joyous, however. Laughter and banter +and song came from the cabins that lined the big ravine and the little +ravines opening into it. A banjo tinkled at the entrance of "Possum +Trot," sacred to the darkies. We moved toward it. On the stoop sat an +ecstatic picker and in the dust shuffled three pickaninnies--one boy and +two girls--the youngest not five years old. The crowd that was gathered +about them gave way respectfully as we drew near; the little darkies +showed their white teeth in jolly grins, and their feet shook the dust +in happy competition. I showered a few coins for the Blight and on we +went--into the mouth of the many-peaked Gap. The night train was coming +in and everybody had a smile of welcome for the Blight--post-office +assistant, drug clerk, soda-water boy, telegraph operator, hostler, +who came for the mules--and when tired, but happy, she slipped from +her saddle to the ground, she then and there gave me what she usually +reserves for Christmas morning, and that, too, while Marston was looking +on. Over her shoulder I smiled at him. + + +That night Marston and the Blight sat under the vines on the porch +until the late moon rose over Wallens Ridge, and, when bedtime came, the +Blight said impatiently that she did not want to go home. She had to go, +however, next day, but on the next Fourth of July she would surely come +again; and, as the young engineer mounted his horse and set his face +toward Black Mountain, I knew that until that day, for him, a blight +would still be in the hills. + + + + +V. BACK TO THE HILLS + +Winter drew a gray veil over the mountains, wove into it tiny jewels of +frost and turned it many times into a mask of snow, before spring broke +again among them and in Marston's impatient heart. No spring had ever +been like that to him. The coming of young leaves and flowers and +bird-song meant but one joy for the hills to him--the Blight was coming +back to them. All those weary waiting months he had clung grimly to his +work. He must have heard from her sometimes, else I think he would have +gone to her; but I knew the Blight's pen was reluctant and casual for +anybody, and, moreover, she was having a strenuous winter at home. That +he knew as well, for he took one paper, at least, that he might simply +read her name. He saw accounts of her many social doings as well, and +ate his heart out as lovers have done for all time gone and will do for +all time to come. + +I, too, was away all winter, but I got back a month before the Blight, +to learn much of interest that had come about. The Hon. Samuel Budd had +ear-wagged himself into the legislature, had moved that Court-House, and +was going to be State Senator. The Wild Dog had confined his reckless +career to his own hills through the winter, but when spring came, +migratory-like, he began to take frequent wing to the Gap. So far, he +and Marston had never come into personal conflict, though Marston kept +ever ready for him, and several times they had met in the road, eyed +each other in passing and made no hipward gesture at all. But then +Marston had never met him when the Wild Dog was drunk--and when sober, I +took it that the one act of kindness from the engineer always stayed his +hand. But the Police Guard at the Gap saw him quite often--and to it he +was a fearful and elusive nuisance. He seemed to be staying somewhere +within a radius of ten miles, for every night or two he would circle +about the town, yelling and firing his pistol, and when we chased him, +escaping through the Gap or up the valley or down in Lee. Many plans +were laid to catch him, but all failed, and finally he came in one day +and gave himself up and paid his fines. Afterward I recalled that +the time of this gracious surrender to law and order was but little +subsequent to one morning when a woman who brought butter and eggs to my +little sister casually asked when that "purty slim little gal with the +snappin' black eyes was a-comin' back." And the little sister, pleased +with the remembrance, had said cordially that she was coming soon. + +Thereafter the Wild Dog was in town every day, and he behaved well until +one Saturday he got drunk again, and this time, by a peculiar chance, it +was Marston again who leaped on him, wrenched his pistol away, and put +him in the calaboose. Again he paid his fine, promptly visited a "blind +Tiger," came back to town, emptied another pistol at Marston on sight +and fled for the hills. + +The enraged guard chased him for two days and from that day the Wild Dog +was a marked man. The Guard wanted many men, but if they could have had +their choice they would have picked out of the world of malefactors that +same Wild Dog. + +Why all this should have thrown the Hon. Samuel Budd into such gloom +I could not understand--except that the Wild Dog had been so loyal a +henchman to him in politics, but later I learned a better reason, that +threatened to cost the Hon. Sam much more than the fines that, as I +later learned, he had been paying for his mountain friend. + +Meanwhile, the Blight was coming from her Northern home through the +green lowlands of Jersey, the fat pastures of Maryland, and, as the +white dresses of schoolgirls and the shining faces of darkies thickened +at the stations, she knew that she was getting southward. All the way +she was known and welcomed, and next morning she awoke with the keen air +of the distant mountains in her nostrils and an expectant light in her +happy eyes. At least the light was there when she stepped daintily from +the dusty train and it leaped a little, I fancied, when Marston, bronzed +and flushed, held out his sunburnt hand. Like a convent girl she babbled +questions to the little sister as the dummy puffed along and she bubbled +like wine over the midsummer glory of the hills. And well she might, for +the glory of the mountains, full-leafed, shrouded in evening shadows, +blue-veiled in the distance, was unspeakable, and through the Gap the +sun was sending his last rays as though he, too, meant to take a peep at +her before he started around the world to welcome her next day. And she +must know everything at once. The anniversary of the Great Day on which +all men were pronounced free and equal was only ten days distant and +preparations were going on. There would be a big crowd of mountaineers +and there would be sports of all kinds, and games, but the tournament +was to be the feature of the day. + +"A tournament?" "Yes, a tournament," repeated the little sister, +and Marston was going to ride and the mean thing would not tell what +mediaeval name he meant to take. And the Hon. Sam Budd--did the Blight +remember him? (Indeed, she did)--had a "dark horse," and he had bet +heavily that his dark horse would win the tournament--whereat the little +sister looked at Marston and at the Blight and smiled disdainfully. And +the Wild Dog--DID she remember him? I checked the sister here with a +glance, for Marston looked uncomfortable and the Blight saw me do it, +and on the point of saying something she checked herself, and her face, +I thought, paled a little. + +That night I learned why--when she came in from the porch after Marston +was gone. I saw she had wormed enough of the story out of him to worry +her, for her face this time was distinctly pale. I would tell her no +more than she knew, however, and then she said she was sure she had seen +the Wild Dog herself that afternoon, sitting on his horse in the bushes +near a station in Wildcat Valley. She was sure that he saw her, and his +face had frightened her. I knew her fright was for Marston and not for +herself, so I laughed at her fears. She was mistaken--Wild Dog was an +outlaw now and he would not dare appear at the Gap, and there was no +chance that he could harm her or Marston. And yet I was uneasy. + +It must have been a happy ten days for those two young people. Every +afternoon Marston would come in from the mines and they would go off +horseback together, over ground that I well knew--for I had been all +over it myself--up through the gray-peaked rhododendron-bordered Gap +with the swirling water below them and the gray rock high above where +another such foolish lover lost his life, climbing to get a flower for +his sweetheart, or down the winding dirt road into Lee, or up through +the beech woods behind Imboden Hill, or climbing the spur of Morris's +Farm to watch the sunset over the majestic Big Black Mountains, where +the Wild Dog lived, and back through the fragrant, cool, moonlit woods. +He was doing his best, Marston was, and he was having trouble--as every +man should. And that trouble I knew even better than he, for I had once +known a Southern girl who was so tender of heart that she could refuse +no man who really loved her she accepted him and sent him to her father, +who did all of her refusing for her. And I knew no man would know that +he had won the Blight until he had her at the altar and the priestly +hand of benediction was above her head. + +Of such kind was the Blight. Every night when they came in I could read +the story of the day, always in his face and sometimes in hers; and +it was a series of ups and downs that must have wrung the boy's heart +bloodless. Still I was in good hope for him, until the crisis came +on the night before the Fourth. The quarrel was as plain as though +typewritten on the face of each. Marston would not come in that night +and the Blight went dinnerless to bed and cried herself to sleep. She +told the little sister that she had seen the Wild Dog again peering +through the bushes, and that she was frightened. That was her +explanation--but I guessed a better one. + + + + +VI. THE GREAT DAY + +It was a day to make glad the heart of slave or freeman. The earth was +cool from a night-long rain, and a gentle breeze fanned coolness +from the north all day long. The clouds were snow-white, tumbling, +ever-moving, and between them the sky showed blue and deep. Grass, leaf, +weed and flower were in the richness that comes to the green things of +the earth just before that full tide of summer whose foam is drifting +thistle down. The air was clear and the mountains seemed to have brushed +the haze from their faces and drawn nearer that they, too, might better +see the doings of that day. + +From the four winds of heaven, that morning, came the brave and the +free. Up from Lee, down from Little Stone Gap, and from over in Scott, +came the valley-farmers--horseback, in buggies, hacks, two-horse wagons, +with wives, mothers, sisters, sweethearts, in white dresses, flowered +hats, and many ribbons, and with dinner-baskets stuffed with good things +to eat--old ham, young chicken, angel-cake and blackberry wine--to be +spread in the sunless shade of great poplar and oak. From Bum Hollow and +Wildcat Valley and from up the slopes that lead to Cracker's Neck came +smaller tillers of the soil--as yet but faintly marked by the gewgaw +trappings of the outer world; while from beyond High Knob, whose crown +is in cloud-land, and through the Gap, came the mountaineer in the +primitive simplicity of home spun and cowhide, wide-brimmed hat and +poke-bonnet, quaint speech, and slouching gait. Through the Gap he came +in two streams--the Virginians from Crab Orchard and Wise and Dickinson, +the Kentuckians from Letcher and feudal Harlan, beyond the Big +Black--and not a man carried a weapon in sight, for the stern spirit of +that Police Guard at the Gap was respected wide and far. Into the town, +which sits on a plateau some twenty feet above the level of the two +rivers that all but encircle it, they poured, hitching their horses in +the strip of woods that runs through the heart of the place, and broad +ens into a primeval park that, fan-like, opens on the oval level field +where all things happen on the Fourth of July. About the street they +loitered--lovers hand in hand--eating fruit and candy and drinking +soda-water, or sat on the curb-stone, mothers with babies at their +breasts and toddling children clinging close--all waiting for the +celebration to begin. + +It was a great day for the Hon. Samuel Budd. With a cheery smile and +beaming goggles, he moved among his constituents, joking with yokels, +saying nice things to mothers, paying gallantries to girls, and chucking +babies under the chin. He felt popular and he was--so popular that he +had begun to see himself with prophetic eye in a congressional seat at +no distant day; and yet, withal, he was not wholly happy. + +"Do you know," he said, "them fellers I made bets with in the tournament +got together this morning and decided, all of 'em, that they wouldn't +let me off? Jerusalem, it's most five hundred dollars!" And, looking +the picture of dismay, he told me his dilemma. It seems that his "dark +horse" was none other than the Wild Dog, who had been practising at home +for this tournament for nearly a year; and now that the Wild Dog was an +outlaw, he, of course, wouldn't and couldn't come to the Gap. And said +the Hon. Sam Budd: + +"Them fellers says I bet I'd BRING IN a dark horse who would win this +tournament, and if I don't BRING him in, I lose just the same as though +I had brought him in and he hadn't won. An' I reckon they've got me." + +"I guess they have." + +"It would have been like pickin' money off a blackberry-bush, for I was +goin' to let the Wild Dog have that black horse o' mine--the steadiest +and fastest runner in this country--and my, how that fellow can pick off +the rings! He's been a-practising for a year, and I believe he could run +the point o' that spear of his through a lady's finger-ring." + +"You'd better get somebody else." + +"Ah--that's it. The Wild Dog sent word he'd send over another feller, +named Dave Branham, who has been practising with him, who's just as +good, he says, as he is. I'm looking for him at twelve o'clock, an' I'm +goin' to take him down an' see what he can do on that black horse o' +mine. But if he's no good, I lose five hundred, all right," and he +sloped away to his duties. For it was the Hon. Sam who was master +of ceremonies that day. He was due now to read the Declaration of +Independence in a poplar grove to all who would listen; he was to act as +umpire at the championship base-ball game in the afternoon, and he was +to give the "Charge" to the assembled knights before the tournament. + +At ten o'clock the games began--and I took the Blight and the little +sister down to the "grandstand"--several tiers of backless benches with +leaves for a canopy and the river singing through rhododendrons behind. +There was jumping broad and high, and a 100-yard dash and hurdling and +throwing the hammer, which the Blight said were not interesting--they +were too much like college sports--and she wanted to see the base-ball +game and the tournament. And yet Marston was in them all--dogged and +resistless--his teeth set and his eyes anywhere but lifted toward the +Blight, who secretly proud, as I believed, but openly defiant, mentioned +not his name even when he lost, which was twice only. + +"Pretty good, isn't he?" I said. + +"Who?" she said indifferently. + +"Oh, nobody," I said, turning to smile, but not turning quickly enough. + +"What's the matter with you?" asked the Blight sharply. + +"Nothing, nothing at all," I said, and straightway the Blight thought +she wanted to go home. The thunder of the Declaration was still rumbling +in the poplar grove. + +"That's the Hon. Sam Budd," I said. + +"Don't you want to hear him?" + +"I don't care who it is and I don't want to hear him and I think you are +hateful." + +Ah, dear me, it was more serious than I thought. There were +tears in her eyes, and I led the Blight and the little sister +home--conscience-stricken and humbled. Still I would find that young +jackanapes of an engineer and let him know that anybody who made the +Blight unhappy must deal with me. I would take him by the neck and pound +some sense into him. I found him lofty, uncommunicative, perfectly alien +to any consciousness that I could have any knowledge of what was going +or any right to poke my nose into anybody's business--and I did nothing +except go back to lunch--to find the Blight upstairs and the little +sister indignant with me. + +"You just let them alone," she said severely. + +"Let who alone?" I said, lapsing into the speech of childhood. + +"You--just--let--them--alone," she repeated. + +"I've already made up my mind to that." + +"Well, then!" she said, with an air of satisfaction, but why I don't +know. + +I went back to the poplar grove. The Declaration was over and the crowd +was gone, but there was the Hon. Samuel Budd, mopping his brow with +one hand, slapping his thigh with the other, and all but executing a +pigeon-wing on the turf. He turned goggles on me that literally shone +triumph. + +"He's come--Dave Branham's come!" he said. "He's better than the Wild +Dog. I've been trying him on the black horse and, Lord, how he can take +them rings off! Ha, won't I get into them fellows who wouldn't let me +off this morning! Oh, yes, I agreed to bring in a dark horse, and I'll +bring him in all right. That five hundred is in my clothes now. You see +that point yonder? Well, there's a hollow there and bushes all around. +That's where I'm going to dress him. I've got his clothes all right and +a name for him. This thing is a-goin' to come off accordin' to Hoyle, +Ivanhoe, Four-Quarters-of-Beef, and all them mediaeval fellows. Just +watch me!" + +I began to get newly interested, for that knight's name I suddenly +recalled. Little Buck, the Wild Dog's brother, had mentioned him, when +we were over in the Kentucky hills, as practising with the Wild Dog--as +being "mighty good, but nowhar 'longside o' Mart." So the Hon. Sam might +have a good substitute, after all, and being a devoted disciple of Sir +Walter, I knew his knight would rival, in splendor, at least, any that +rode with King Arthur in days of old. + +The Blight was very quiet at lunch, as was the little sister, and my +effort to be jocose was a lamentable failure. So I gave news. + +"The Hon. Sam has a substitute." No curiosity and no question. + +"Who--did you say? Why, Dave Branham, a friend of the Wild Dog. Don't +you remember Buck telling us about him?" No answer. "Well, I do--and, +by the way, I saw Buck and one of the big sisters just a while ago. Her +name is Mollie. Dave Branham, you will recall, is her sweetheart. The +other big sister had to stay at home with her mother and little Cindy, +who's sick. Of course, I didn't ask them about Mart--the Wild Dog. They +knew I knew and they wouldn't have liked it. The Wild Dog's around, I +understand, but he won't dare show his face. Every policeman in town is +on the lookout for him." I thought the Blight's face showed a signal of +relief. + +"I'm going to play short-stop," I added. + +"Oh!" said the Blight, with a smile, but the little sister said with +some scorn: + +"You!" + +"I'll show you," I said, and I told the Blight about base-ball at the +Gap. We had introduced base-ball into the region and the valley boys +and mountain boys, being swift runners, throwing like a rifle shot from +constant practice with stones, and being hard as nails, caught the game +quickly and with great ease. We beat them all the time at first, but now +they were beginning to beat us. We had a league now, and this was the +championship game for the pennant. + +"It was right funny the first time we beat a native team. Of course, we +got together and cheered 'em. They thought we were cheering ourselves, +so they got red in the face, rushed together and whooped it up for +themselves for about half an hour." + +The Blight almost laughed. + +"We used to have to carry our guns around with us at first when we went +to other places, and we came near having several fights." + +"Oh!" said the Blight excitedly. "Do you think there might be a fight +this afternoon?" + +"Don't know," I said, shaking my head. "It's pretty hard for eighteen +people to fight when nine of them are policemen and there are forty more +around. Still the crowd might take a hand." + +This, I saw, quite thrilled the Blight and she was in good spirits when +we started out. + +"Marston doesn't pitch this afternoon," I said to the little sister. "He +plays first base. He's saving himself for the tournament. He's done too +much already." The Blight merely turned her head while I was speaking. +"And the Hon. Sam will not act as umpire. He wants to save his +voice--and his head." + +The seats in the "grandstand" were in the sun now, so I left the +girls in a deserted band-stand that stood on stilts under trees on the +southern side of the field, and on a line midway between third base and +the position of short-stop. Now there is no enthusiasm in any sport that +equals the excitement aroused by a rural base-ball game and I never +saw the enthusiasm of that game outdone except by the excitement of the +tournament that followed that afternoon. The game was close and +Marston and I assuredly were stars--Marston one of the first magnitude. +"Goose-egg" on one side matched "goose-egg" on the other until the end +of the fifth inning, when the engineer knocked a home-run. Spectators +threw their hats into the trees, yelled themselves hoarse, and I saw +several old mountaineers who understood no more of base-ball than of the +lost _digamma_ in Greek going wild with the general contagion. During +these innings I had "assisted" in two doubles and had fired in three +"daisy cutters" to first myself in spite of the guying I got from the +opposing rooters. + +"Four-eyes" they called me on account of my spectacles until a new +nickname came at the last half of the ninth inning, when we were in +the field with the score four to three in our favor. It was then that +a small, fat boy with a paper megaphone longer than he was waddled out +almost to first base and levelling his trumpet at me, thundered out in a +sudden silence: + +"Hello, Foxy Grandpa!" That was too much. I got rattled, and when there +were three men on bases and two out, a swift grounder came to me, I +fell--catching it--and threw wildly to first from my knees. I heard +shouts of horror, anger, and distress from everywhere and my own heart +stopped beating--I had lost the game--and then Marston leaped in the +air--surely it must have been four feet--caught the ball with his left +hand and dropped back on the bag. The sound of his foot on it and the +runner's was almost simultaneous, but the umpire said Marston's was +there first. Then bedlam! One of my brothers was umpire and the captain +of the other team walked threateningly out toward him, followed by two +of his men with base-ball bats. As I started off myself towards them I +saw, with the corner of my eye, another brother of mine start in a run +from the left field, and I wondered why a third, who was scoring, sat +perfectly still in his chair, particularly as a well-known, red-headed +tough from one of the mines who had been officiously antagonistic ran +toward the pitcher's box directly in front of him. Instantly a dozen of +the guard sprang toward it, some man pulled his pistol, a billy cracked +straightway on his head, and in a few minutes order was restored. And +still the brother scoring hadn't moved from his chair, and I spoke to +him hotly. + +"Keep your shirt on," he said easily, lifting his score-card with his +left hand and showing his right clinched about his pistol under it. + +"I was just waiting for that red-head to make a move. I guess I'd have +got him first." + +I walked back to the Blight and the little sister and both of them +looked very serious and frightened. + +"I don't think I want to see a real fight, after all," said the Blight. +"Not this afternoon." + +It was a little singular and prophetic, but just as the words left her +lips one of the Police Guard handed me a piece of paper. + +"Somebody in the crowd must have dropped it in my pocket," he said. On +the paper were scrawled these words: + +"_Look out for the Wild Dog!_" + +I sent the paper to Marston. + + + + +VII. AT LAST--THE TOURNAMENT + +At last--the tournament! Ever afterward the Hon. Samuel Budd called it +"The Gentle and Joyous Passage of Arms--not of Ashby--but of the Gap, +by-suh!" The Hon. Samuel had arranged it as nearly after Sir Walter as +possible. And a sudden leap it was from the most modern of games to a +game most ancient. + +No knights of old ever jousted on a lovelier field than the green little +valley toward which the Hon. Sam waved one big hand. It was level, +shorn of weeds, elliptical in shape, and bound in by trees that ran in +a semicircle around the bank of the river, shut in the southern border, +and ran back to the northern extremity in a primeval little forest that +wood-thrushes, even then, were making musical--all of it shut in by +a wall of living green, save for one narrow space through which the +knights were to enter. In front waved Wallens' leafy ridge and behind +rose the Cumberland Range shouldering itself spur by spur, into the +coming sunset and crashing eastward into the mighty bulk of Powell's +Mountain, which loomed southward from the head of the valley--all +nodding sunny plumes of chestnut. + +The Hon. Sam had seen us coming from afar apparently, had come forward +to meet us, and he was in high spirits. + +"I am Prince John and Waldemar and all the rest of 'em this day," he +said, "and 'it is thus,'" quoting Sir Walter, "that we set the dutiful +example of loyalty to the Queen of Love and Beauty, and are ourselves +her guide to the throne which she must this day occupy." And so saying, +the Hon. Sam marshalled the Blight to a seat of honor next his own. + +"And how do you know she is going to be the Queen of Love and Beauty?" +asked the little sister. The Hon. Sam winked at me. + +"Well, this tournament lies between two gallant knights. One will make +her the Queen of his own accord, if he wins, and if the other wins, he's +got to, or I'll break his head. I've given orders." And the Hon. Sam +looked about right and left on the people who were his that day. + +"Observe the nobles and ladies," he said, still following Sir Walter, +and waving at the towns-people and visitors in the rude grandstand. +"Observe the yeomanry and spectators of a better degree than the mere +vulgar"--waving at the crowd on either side of the stand--"and the +promiscuous multitude down the river banks and over the woods and +clinging to the tree-tops and to yon telegraph-pole. And there is my +herald"--pointing to the cornetist of the local band--"and wait--by my +halidom--please just wait until you see my knight on that black charger +o' mine." + +The Blight and the little sister were convulsed and the Hon. Sam went +on: + +"Look at my men-at-arms"--the volunteer policemen with bulging +hip-pockets, dangling billies and gleaming shields of office--"and at my +refreshment tents behind"--where peanuts and pink lemonade were keeping +the multitude busy--"and my attendants"--colored gentlemen with sponges +and water-buckets--"the armorers and farriers haven't come yet. But my +knight--I got his clothes in New York--just wait--Love of Ladies and +Glory to the Brave!" Just then there was a commotion on the free seats +on one side of the grandstand. A darky starting, in all ignorance, to +mount them was stopped and jostled none too good-naturedly back to the +ground. + +"And see," mused the Hon. Sam, "in lieu of the dog of an unbeliever we +have a dark analogy in that son of Ham." + +The little sister plucked me by the sleeve and pointed toward the +entrance. Outside and leaning on the fence were Mollie, the big sister, +and little Buck. Straightway I got up and started for them. They hung +back, but I persuaded them to come, and I led them to seats two tiers +below the Blight--who, with my little sister, rose smiling to greet +them and shake hands--much to the wonder of the nobles and ladies close +about, for Mollie was in brave and dazzling array, blushing fiercely, +and little Buck looked as though he would die of such conspicuousness. +No embarrassing questions were asked about Mart or Dave Branham, but I +noticed that Mollie had purple and crimson ribbons clinched in one brown +hand. The purpose of them was plain, and I whispered to the Blight: + +"She's going to pin them on Dave's lance." The Hon. Sam heard me. + +"Not on your life," he said emphatically. "I ain't takin' chances," and +he nodded toward the Blight. "She's got to win, no matter who loses." He +rose to his feet suddenly. + +"Glory to the Brave--they're comin'! Toot that horn, son," he said; +"they're comin'," and the band burst into discordant sounds that would +have made the "wild barbaric music" on the field of Ashby sound like a +lullaby. The Blight stifled her laughter over that amazing music with +her handkerchief, and even the Hon. Sam scowled. + +"Gee!" he said; "it is pretty bad, isn't it?" + +"Here they come!" + +The nobles and ladies on the grandstand, the yeomanry and spectators of +better degree, and the promiscuous multitude began to sway expectantly +and over the hill came the knights, single file, gorgeous in velvets and +in caps, with waving plumes and with polished spears, vertical, resting +on the right stirrup foot and gleaming in the sun. + +"A goodly array!" murmured the Hon. Sam. + +A crowd of small boys gathered at the fence below, and I observed the +Hon. Sam's pockets bulging with peanuts. + +"Largesse!" I suggested. + +"Good!" he said, and rising he shouted: + +"Largessy! largessy!" scattering peanuts by the handful among the +scrambling urchins. + +Down wound the knights behind the back stand of the base-ball field, and +then, single file, in front of the nobles and ladies, before whom they +drew up and faced, saluting with inverted spears. + +The Hon. Sam arose--his truncheon a hickory stick--and in a stentorian +voice asked the names of the doughty knights who were there to win glory +for themselves and the favor of fair women. + +Not all will be mentioned, but among them was the Knight of the +Holston--Athelstanic in build--in black stockings, white negligee shirt, +with Byronic collar, and a broad crimson sash tied with a bow at his +right side. There was the Knight of the Green Valley, in green and gold, +a green hat with a long white plume, lace ruffles at his sleeves, and +buckles on dancing-pumps; a bonny fat knight of Maxwelton Braes, in +Highland kilts and a plaid; and the Knight at Large. + +"He ought to be caged," murmured the Hon. Sam; for the Knight at Large +wore plum-colored velvet, red base-ball stockings, held in place with +safety-pins, white tennis shoes, and a very small hat with a very long +plume, and the dye was already streaking his face. Marston was the +last--sitting easily on his iron gray. + +"And your name, Sir Knight?" + +"The Discarded," said Marston, with steady eyes. I felt the Blight start +at my side and sidewise I saw that her face was crimson. + +The Hon. Sam sat down, muttering, for he did not like Marston: + +"Wenchless springal!" + +Just then my attention was riveted on Mollie and little Buck. Both had +been staring silently at the knights as though they were apparitions, +but when Marston faced them I saw Buck clutch his sister's arm suddenly +and say something excitedly in her ear. Then the mouths of both +tightened fiercely and their eyes seemed to be darting lightning at the +unconscious knight, who suddenly saw them, recognized them, and smiled +past them at me. Again Buck whispered, and from his lips I could make +out what he said: + +"I wonder whar's Dave?" but Mollie did not answer. + +"Which is yours, Mr. Budd?" asked the little sister. The Hon. Sam had +leaned back with his thumbs in the arm-holes of his white waistcoat. + +"He ain't come yet. I told him to come last." + +The crowd waited and the knights waited--so long that the Mayor rose in +his seat some twenty feet away and called out: + +"Go ahead, Budd." + +"You jus' wait a minute--my man ain't come yet," he said easily, but +from various places in the crowd came jeering shouts from the men with +whom he had wagered and the Hon. Sam began to look anxious. + +"I wonder what is the matter?" he added in a lower tone. "I dressed him +myself more than an hour ago and I told him to come last, but I didn't +mean for him to wait till Christmas--ah!" + +The Hon. Sam sank back in his seat again. From somewhere had come +suddenly the blare of a solitary trumpet that rang in echoes around the +amphitheatre of the hills and, a moment later, a dazzling something shot +into sight above the mound that looked like a ball of fire, coming in +mid-air. The new knight wore a shining helmet and the Hon. Sam chuckled +at the murmur that rose and then he sat up suddenly. There was no face +under that helmet--the Hon. Sam's knight was MASKED and the Hon. Sam +slapped his thigh with delight. + +"Bully--bully! I never thought of it--I never thought of it--bully!" + +This was thrilling, indeed--but there was more; the strange knight's +body was cased in a flexible suit of glistening mail, his spear point, +when he raised it on high, shone like silver, and he came on like a +radiant star--on the Hon. Sam's charger, white-bridled, with long mane +and tail and black from tip of nose to tip of that tail as midnight. The +Hon. Sam was certainly doing it well. At a slow walk the stranger drew +alongside of Marston and turned his spear point downward. + +"Gawd!" said an old darky. "Ku-klux done come again." And, indeed, it +looked like a Ku-klux mask, white, dropping below the chin, and with +eye-holes through which gleamed two bright fires. + +The eyes of Buck and Mollie were turned from Marston at last, and +open-mouthed they stared. + +"Hit's the same hoss--hit's Dave!" said Buck aloud. + +"Well, my Lord!" said Mollie simply. + +The Hon. Sam rose again. + +"And who is Sir Tardy Knight that hither comes with masked face?" he +asked courteously. He got no answer. + +"What's your name, son?" + +The white mask puffed at the wearer's lips. + +"The Knight of the Cumberland," was the low, muffled reply. + +"Make him take that thing off!" shouted some one. + +"What's he got it on fer?" shouted another. + +"I don't know, friend," said the Hon. Sam; "but it is not my business +nor prithee thine; since by the laws of the tournament a knight may ride +masked for a specified time or until a particular purpose is achieved, +that purpose being, I wot, victory for himself and for me a handful of +byzants from thee." + +"Now, go ahead, Budd," called the Mayor again. "Are you going crazy?" + +The Hon. Sam stretched out his arms once to loosen them for gesture, +thrust his chest out, and uplifted his chin: "Fair ladies, nobles of the +realm, and good knights," he said sonorously, and he raised one hand to +his mouth and behind it spoke aside to me: + +"How's my voice--how's my voice?" + +"Great!" His question was genuine, for the mask of humor had dropped and +the man was transformed. I knew his inner seriousness, his oratorical +command of good English, and I knew the habit, not uncommon among +stump-speakers in the South, of falling, through humor, carelessness, or +for the effect of flattering comradeship, into all the lingual sins of +rural speech; but I was hardly prepared for the soaring flight the Hon. +Sam took now. He started with one finger pointed heavenward: + + "The knights are dust + And their good swords are rast; + Their souls are with the saints, we trust." + +"Scepticism is but a harmless phantom in these mighty hills. We BELIEVE +that with the saints is the GOOD knight's soul, and if, in the radiant +unknown, the eyes of those who have gone before can pierce the little +shadow that lies between, we know that the good knights of old look +gladly down on these good knights of to-day. For it is good to be +remembered. The tireless struggle for name and fame since the sunrise +of history attests it; and the ancestry worship in the East and the +world-wide hope of immortality show the fierce hunger in the human soul +that the memory of it not only shall not perish from this earth, but +that, across the Great Divide, it shall live on--neither forgetting nor +forgotten. You are here in memory of those good knights to prove that +the age of chivalry is not gone; that though their good swords are rust, +the stainless soul of them still illumines every harmless spear point +before me and makes it a torch that shall reveal, in your own hearts +still aflame, their courage, their chivalry, their sense of protection +for the weak, and the honor in which they held pure women, brave men, +and almighty God. + +"The tournament, some say, goes back to the walls of Troy. The form of +it passed with the windmills that Don Quixote charged. It is with you to +keep the high spirit of it an ever-burning vestal fire. It was a deadly +play of old--it is a harmless play to you this day. But the prowess of +the game is unchanged; for the skill to strike those pendent rings is no +less than was the skill to strike armor-joint, visor, or plumed crest. +It was of old an exercise for deadly combat on the field of battle; it +is no less an exercise now to you for the field of life--for the quick +eye, the steady nerve, and the deft hand which shall help you strike the +mark at which, outside these lists, you aim. And the crowning triumph +is still just what it was of old--that to the victor the Rose of his +world--made by him the Queen of Love and Beauty for us all--shall give +her smile and with her own hands place on his brow a thornless crown." + +Perfect silence honored the Hon. Samuel Budd. The Mayor was nodding +vigorous approval, the jeering ones kept still, and when after the last +deep-toned word passed like music from his lips the silence held sway +for a little while before the burst of applause came. Every knight had +straightened in his saddle and was looking very grave. Marston's eyes +never left the speaker's face, except once, when they turned with an +unconscious appeal, I thought, to the downcast face of Blight--whereat +the sympathetic little sister seemed close to tears. The Knight of the +Cumberland shifted in his saddle as though he did not quite understand +what was going on, and once Mollie, seeing the eyes through the +mask-holes fixed on her, blushed furiously, and little Buck grinned back +a delighted recognition. The Hon. Sam sat down, visibly affected by his +own eloquence; slowly he wiped his face and then he rose again. + +"Your colors, Sir Knights," he said, with a commanding wave of his +truncheon, and one by one the knights spurred forward and each held +his lance into the grandstand that some fair one might tie thereon the +colors he was to wear. Marston, without looking at the Blight, held his +up to the little sister and the Blight carelessly turned her face while +the demure sister was busy with her ribbons, but I noticed that the +little ear next to me was tingling red for all her brave look of +unconcern. Only the Knight of the Cumberland sat still. + +"What!" said the Hon. Sam, rising to his feet, his eyes twinkling and +his mask of humor on again; "sees this masked springal"--the Hon. Sam +seemed much enamored of that ancient word--"no maid so fair that he +will not beg from her the boon of colors gay that he may carry them to +victory and receive from her hands a wreath therefor?" Again the Knight +of the Cumberland seemed not to know that the Hon. Sam's winged words +were meant for him, so the statesman translated them into a mutual +vernacular. + +"Remember what I told you, son," he said. "Hold up yo' spear here to +some one of these gals jes' like the other fellows are doin'," and as he +sat down he tried surreptitiously to indicate the Blight with his +index finger, but the knight failed to see and the Blight's face was +so indignant and she rebuked him with such a knife-like whisper that, +humbled, the Hon. Sam collapsed in his seat, muttering: + +"The fool don't know you--he don't know you." + +For the Knight of the Cumberland had turned the black horse's head and +was riding, like Ivanhoe, in front of the nobles and ladies, his eyes +burning up at them through the holes in his white mask. Again he turned, +his mask still uplifted, and the behavior of the beauties there, as on +the field of Ashby, was no whit changed: "Some blushed, some assumed an +air of pride and dignity, some looked straight forward and essayed to +seem utterly unconscious of what was going on, some drew back in alarm +which was perhaps affected, some endeavored to forbear smiling and there +were two or three who laughed outright." Only none "dropped a veil over +her charms" and thus none incurred the suspicion, as on that field of +Ashby, that she was "a beauty of ten years' standing" whose motive, +gallant Sir Walter supposes in defence, however, was doubtless "a +surfeit of such vanities and a willingness to give a fair chance to +the rising beauties of the age." But the most conscious of the fair +was Mollie below, whose face was flushed and whose brown fingers were +nervously twisting the ribbons in her lap, and I saw Buck nudge her and +heard him whisper: + +"Dave ain't going to pick YOU out, I tell ye. I heered Mr. Budd thar +myself tell him he HAD to pick out some other gal." + +"You hush!" said Mollie indignantly. + +It looked as though the Knight of the Cumberland had grown rebellious +and meant to choose whom he pleased, but on his way back the Hon. +Sam must have given more surreptitious signs, for the Knight of the +Cumberland reined in before the Blight and held up his lance to her. +Straightway the colors that were meant for Marston fluttered from the +Knight of the Cumberland's spear. I saw Marston bite his lips and I saw +Mollie's face aflame with fury and her eyes darting lightning--no +longer at Marston now, but at the Blight. The mountain girl held nothing +against the city girl because of the Wild Dog's infatuation, but that +her own lover, no matter what the Hon. Sam said, should give his homage +also to the Blight, in her own presence, was too much. Mollie looked +around no more. Again the Hon. Sam rose. + +"Love of ladies," he shouted, "splintering of lances! Stand forth, +gallant knights. Fair eyes look upon your deeds! Toot again, son!" + +Now just opposite the grandstand was a post some ten feet high, with a +small beam projecting from the top toward the spectators. From the end +of this hung a wire, the end of which was slightly upturned in line with +the course, and on the tip of this wire a steel ring about an inch in +diameter hung lightly. Nearly forty yards below this was a similar +ring similarly arranged; and at a similar distance below that was +still another, and at the blast from the Hon. Sam's herald, the +gallant knights rode slowly, two by two, down the lists to the western +extremity--the Discarded Knight and the Knight of the Cumberland, +stirrup to stirrup, riding last--where they all drew up in line, some +fifty yards beyond the westernmost post. This distance they took that +full speed might be attained before jousting at the first ring, since +the course--much over one hundred yards long--must be covered in seven +seconds or less, which was no slow rate of speed. The Hon. Sam arose +again: + +"The Knight of the Holston!" + +Farther down the lists a herald took up the same cry and the good knight +of Athelstanic build backed his steed from the line and took his place +at the head of the course. + +With his hickory truncheon the Hon. Sam signed to his trumpeter to sound +the onset. + +"Now, son!" he said. + +With the blare of the trumpet Athelstane sprang from his place and came +up the course, his lance at rest; a tinkling sound and the first ring +slipped down the knight's spear and when he swept past the last post +there was a clapping of hands, for he held three rings triumphantly +aloft. And thus they came, one by one, until each had run the course +three times, the Discarded jousting next to the last and the Knight of +the Cumberland, riding with a reckless Cave, Adsum air, the very last. +At the second joust it was quite evident that the victory lay between +these two, as they only had not lost a single ring, and when the black +horse thundered by, the Hon. Sam shouted "Brave lance!" and jollied +his betting enemies, while Buck hugged himself triumphantly and Mollie +seemed temporarily to lose her chagrin and anger in pride of her lover, +Dave. On the third running the Knight of the Cumberland excited a +sensation by sitting upright, waving his lance up and down between the +posts and lowering it only when the ring was within a few feet of its +point. His recklessness cost him one ring, but as the Discarded had lost +one, they were still tied, with eight rings to the credit of each, for +the first prize. Only four others were left--the Knight of the Holston +and the Knight of the Green Valley tying with seven rings for second +prize, and the fat Maxwelton Braes and the Knight at Large tying with +six rings for the third. The crowd was eager now and the Hon. Sam +confident. On came the Knight at Large, his face a rainbow, his plume +wilted and one red base-ball stocking slipped from its moorings--two +rings! On followed the fat Maxwelton, his plaid streaming and his kilts +flapping about his fat legs--also two rings! + +"Egad!" quoth the Hon. Sam. "Did yon lusty trencherman of Annie Laurie's +but put a few more layers of goodly flesh about his ribs, thereby +projecting more his frontal Falstaffian proportions, by my halidom, he +would have to joust tandem!" + +On came Athelstane and the Knight of the Green Valley, both with but two +rings to their credit, and on followed the Discarded, riding easily, and +the Knight of the Cumberland again waving his lance between the posts, +each with three rings on his spear. At the end the Knight at Large +stood third, Athelstane second, and the Discarded and the Knight of the +Cumberland stood side by side at the head of the course, still even, and +now ready to end the joust, for neither on the second trial had missed a +ring. + +The excitement was intense now. Many people seemed to know who the +Knight of the Cumberland was, for there were shouts of "Go it, Dave!" +from everywhere; the rivalry of class had entered the contest and now +it was a conflict between native and "furriner." The Hon. Sam was almost +beside himself with excitement; now and then some man with whom he had +made a bet would shout jeeringly at him and the Hon. Sam would shout +back defiance. But when the trumpet sounded he sat leaning forward with +his brow wrinkled and his big hands clinched tight. Marston sped up the +course first--three rings--and there was a chorus of applauding yells. + +"His horse is gittin' tired," said the Hon. Sam jubilantly, and the +Blight's face, I noticed, showed for the first time faint traces of +indignation. The Knight of the Cumberland was taking no theatrical +chances now and he came through the course with level spear and, with +three rings on it, he shot by like a thunderbolt. + +"Hooray!" shouted the Hon. Sam. "Lord, what a horse!" For the first time +the Blight, I observed, failed to applaud, while Mollie was clapping her +hands and Buck was giving out shrill yells of encouragement. At the +next tilt the Hon. Sam had his watch in his hand and when he saw the +Discarded digging in his spurs he began to smile and he was looking at +his watch when the little tinkle in front told him that the course was +run. + +"Did he get 'em all?" + +"Yes, he got 'em all," mimicked the Blight. + +"Yes, an' he just did make it," chuckled the Hon. Sam. The Discarded +had wheeled his horse aside from the course to watch his antagonist. He +looked pale and tired--almost as tired as his foam-covered steed--but +his teeth were set and his face was unmoved as the Knight of the +Cumberland came on like a demon, sweeping off the last ring with a low, +rasping oath of satisfaction. + +"I never seed Dave ride that-a-way afore," said Mollie. + +"Me, neither," chimed in Buck. + +The nobles and ladies were waving handkerchiefs, clapping hands, and +shouting. The spectators of better degree were throwing up their +hats and from every part of the multitude the same hoarse shout of +encouragement rose: + +"Go it, Dave! Hooray for Dave!" while the boy on the telegraph-pole was +seen to clutch wildly at the crossbar on which he sat--he had come near +tumbling from his perch. + +The two knights rode slowly back to the head of the lists, where the +Discarded was seen to dismount and tighten his girth. + +"He's tryin' to git time to rest," said the Hon. Sam. "Toot, son!" + +"Shame!" said the little sister and the Blight both at once so severely +that the Hon. Sam quickly raised his hand. + +"Hold on," he said, and with hand still uplifted he waited till Marston +was mounted again. "Now!" + +The Discarded came on, using his spurs with every jump, the red of his +horse's nostrils showing that far away, and he swept on, spearing off +the rings with deadly accuracy and holding the three aloft, but having +no need to pull in his panting steed, who stopped of his own accord. +Up went a roar, but the Hon. Sam, covertly glancing at his watch, still +smiled. That watch he pulled out when the Knight of the Cumberland +started and he smiled still when he heard the black horse's swift, +rhythmic beat and he looked up only when that knight, shouting to his +horse, moved his lance up and down before coming to the last ring and, +with a dare-devil yell, swept it from the wire. + +"Tied--tied!" was the shout; "they've got to try it again! they've got +to try it again!" + +The Hon. Sam rose, with his watch in one hand and stilling the tumult +with the other. Dead silence came at once. + +"I fear me," he said, "that the good knight, the Discarded, has failed +to make the course in the time required by the laws of the tournament." +Bedlam broke loose again and the Hon. Sam waited, still gesturing for +silence. + +"Summon the time-keeper!" he said. + +The time-keeper appeared from the middle of the field and nodded. + +"Eight seconds!" "The Knight of the Cumberland wins," said the Hon. Sam. + +The little sister, unconscious of her own sad face, nudged me to look at +the Blight--there were tears in her eyes. + + +Before the grandstand the knights slowly drew up again. Marston's horse +was so lame and tired that he dismounted and let a darky boy lead him +under the shade of the trees. But he stood on foot among the other +knights, his arms folded, worn out and vanquished, but taking his bitter +medicine like a man. I thought the Blight's eyes looked pityingly upon +him. + +The Hon. Sam arose with a crown of laurel leaves in his hand: + +"You have fairly and gallantly won, Sir Knight of the Cumberland, and +it is now your right to claim and receive from the hands of the Queen +of Love and Beauty the chaplet of honor which your skill has justly +deserved. Advance, Sir Knight of the Cumberland, and dismount!" + +The Knight of the Cumberland made no move nor sound. + +"Get off yo' hoss, son," said the Hon. Sam kindly, "and get down on yo' +knees at the feet of them steps. This fair young Queen is a-goin' to put +this chaplet on your shinin' brow. That horse'll stand." + +The Knight of the Cumberland, after a moment's hesitation, threw his leg +over the saddle and came to the steps with a slouching gait and looking +about him right and left. The Blight, blushing prettily, took the +chaplet and went down the steps to meet him. + +"Unmask!" I shouted. + +"Yes, son," said the Hon. Sam, "take that rag off." + +Then Mollie's voice, clear and loud, startled the crowd. "You better +not, Dave Branham, fer if you do and this other gal puts that thing +on you, you'll never--" What penalty she was going to inflict, I don't +know, for the Knight of the Cumberland, half kneeling, sprang suddenly +to his feet and interrupted her. "Wait a minute, will ye?" he said +almost fiercely, and at the sound of his voice Mollie rose to her feet +and her face blanched. + +"Lord God!" she said almost in anguish, and then she dropped quickly to +her seat again. + +The Knight of the Cumberland had gone back to his horse as though to get +something from his saddle. Like lightning he vaulted into the saddle, +and as the black horse sprang toward the opening tore his mask from his +face, turned in his stirrups, and brandished his spear with a yell of +defiance, while a dozen voices shouted: + +"The Wild Dog!" Then was there an uproar. + +"Goddle mighty!" shouted the Hon. Sam. "I didn't do it, I swear I didn't +know it. He's tricked me--he's tricked me! Don't shoot--you might hit +that hoss!" + +There was no doubt about the Hon. Sam's innocence. Instead of turning +over an outlaw to the police, he had brought him into the inner shrine +of law and order and he knew what a political asset for his enemies that +insult would be. And there was no doubt of the innocence of Mollie and +Buck as they stood, Mollie wringing her hands and Buck with open mouth +and startled face. There was no doubt about the innocence of anybody +other than Dave Branham and the dare-devil Knight of the Cumberland. + +Marston had clutched at the Wild Dog's bridle and missed and the outlaw +struck savagely at him with his spear. Nobody dared to shoot because of +the scattering crowd, but every knight and every mounted policeman took +out after the outlaw and the beating of hoofs pounded over the little +mound and toward Poplar Hill. Marston ran to his horse at the upper end, +threw his saddle on, and hesitated--there were enough after the Wild +Dog and his horse was blown. He listened to the yells and sounds of the +chase encircling Poplar Hill. The outlaw was making for Lee. All at once +the yells and hoof-beats seemed to sound nearer and Marston listened, +astonished. The Wild Dog had wheeled and was coming back; he was going +to make for the Gap, where sure safety lay. Marston buckled his girth +and as he sprang on his horse, unconsciously taking his spear with +him, the Wild Dog dashed from the trees at the far end of the field. As +Marston started the Wild Dog saw him, pulled something that flashed from +under his coat of mail, thrust it back again, and brandishing his spear, +he came, full speed and yelling, up the middle of the field. It was a +strange thing to happen in these modern days, but Marston was an officer +of the law and was between the Wild Dog and the Ford and liberty through +the Gap, into the hills. The Wild Dog was an outlaw. It was Marston's +duty to take him. + +The law does not prescribe with what weapon the lawless shall be +subdued, and Marston's spear was the only weapon he had. Moreover, the +Wild Dog's yell was a challenge that set his blood afire and the +girl both loved was looking on. The crowd gathered the meaning of the +joust--the knights were crashing toward each other with spears at rest. +There were a few surprised oaths from men, a few low cries from women, +and then dead silence in which the sound of hoofs on the hard turf was +like thunder. The Blight's face was white and the little sister was +gripping my arm with both hands. A third horseman shot into view out of +the woods at tight angles, to stop them, and it seemed that the three +horses must crash together in a heap. With a moan the Blight buried her +face on my shoulder. She shivered when the muffled thud of body against +body and the splintering of wood rent the air; a chorus of shrieks +arose about her, and when she lifted her frightened face Marston, the +Discarded, was limp on the ground, his horse was staggering to his feet, +and the Wild Dog was galloping past her, his helmet gleaming, his eyes +ablaze, his teeth set, the handle of his broken spear clinched in his +right hand, and blood streaming down the shoulder of the black horse. +She heard the shots that were sent after him, she heard him plunge into +the river, and then she saw and heard no more. + + + + +VIII. THE KNIGHT PASSES + +A telegram summoned the Blight a home next day. Marston was in bed with +a ragged wound in the shoulder, and I took her to tell him good-by. I +left the room for a few minutes, and when I came back their hands were +unclasping, and for a Discarded Knight the engineer surely wore a happy +though pallid face. + +That afternoon the train on which we left the Gap was brought to a +sudden halt in Wildcat Valley by a piece of red flannel tied to the end +of a stick that was planted midway the track. Across the track, farther +on, lay a heavy piece of timber, and it was plain that somebody meant +that, just at that place, the train must stop. The Blight and I were +seated on the rear platform and the Blight was taking a last look at +her beloved hills. When the train started again, there was a cracking of +twigs overhead and a shower of rhododendron leaves and flowers dropped +from the air at the feet of the Blight. And when we pulled away from the +high-walled cut we saw, motionless on a little mound, a black horse, and +on him, motionless, the Knight of the Cumberland, the helmet on his +head (that the Blight might know who he was, no doubt), and both hands +clasping the broken handle of his spear, which rested across the pommel +of his saddle. Impulsively the Blight waved her hand to him and I could +not help waving my hat; but he sat like a statue and, like a statue, +sat on, simply looking after us as we were hurried along, until horse, +broken shaft, and shoulders sank out of sight. And thus passed the +Knight of the Cumberland with the last gleam that struck his helmet, +spear-like, from the slanting sun. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's A Knight of the Cumberland, by John Fox Jr. + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND *** + +***** This file should be named 324.txt or 324.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/324/ + +Produced by Mike Lough + +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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If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association / Illinois + Benedictine College" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Illinois Benedictine College". + +*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + +Scanned with OmniPage Professional OCR software +donated by Caere Corporation, 1-800-535-7226. +Contact Mike Lough <Mikel@caere.com> + + + + +A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND + +BY +JOHN FOX, JR. + + + +CONTENTS + +I. The Blight in the Hills +II. On the Wild Dog's Trail +III. The Auricular Talent of the Hon.Samuel Budd +IV. Close Quarters +V. Back to the Hills +VI. The Great Day +VII. At Last--The Tournament +VIII.The Knight Passes + + + +A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND + + + + + +I + +THE BLIGHT IN THE HILLS + +High noon of a crisp October day, +sunshine flooding the earth with +the warmth and light of old wine and, +going single-file up through the jagged +gap that the dripping of water has worn +down through the Cumberland Mountains +from crest to valley-level, a gray horse +and two big mules, a man and two young +girls. On the gray horse, I led the +tortuous way. After me came my small +sister--and after her and like her, mule- +back, rode the Blight--dressed as she +would be for a gallop in Central Park or +to ride a hunter in a horse show. + +I was taking them, according to +promise, where the feet of other women than +mountaineers had never trod--beyond the +crest of the Big Black--to the waters of +the Cumberland--the lair of moonshiner +and feudsman, where is yet pocketed a +civilization that, elsewhere, is long ago +gone. This had been a pet dream of the +Blight's for a long time, and now the +dream was coming true. The Blight was +in the hills. + + +Nobody ever went to her mother's +house without asking to see her even when +she was a little thing with black hair, +merry face and black eyes. Both men and +women, with children of their own, have +told me that she was, perhaps, the most +fascinating child that ever lived. There +be some who claim that she has never +changed--and I am among them. She +began early, regardless of age, sex or +previous condition of servitude--she +continues recklessly as she began--and none +makes complaint. Thus was it in her own +world--thus it was when she came to +mine. On the way down from the North, +the conductor's voice changed from a +command to a request when he asked +for her ticket. The jacketed lord of the +dining-car saw her from afar and advanced +to show her to a seat--that she +might ride forward, sit next to a shaded +window and be free from the glare of the +sun on the other side. Two porters made +a rush for her bag when she got off the +car, and the proprietor of the little hotel +in the little town where we had to wait +several hours for the train into the mountains +gave her the bridal chamber for an +afternoon nap. From this little town to +``The Gap'' is the worst sixty-mile ride, +perhaps, in the world. She sat in a dirty +day-coach; the smoke rolled in at the +windows and doors; the cars shook and +swayed and lumbered around curves and +down and up gorges; there were about +her rough men, crying children, slatternly +women, tobacco juice, peanuts, popcorn +and apple cores, but dainty, serene and as +merry as ever, she sat through that ride +with a radiant smile, her keen black eyes +noting everything unlovely within and the +glory of hill, tree and chasm without. +Next morning at home, where we rise +early, no one was allowed to waken her +and she had breakfast in bed--for the +Blight's gentle tyranny was established on +sight and varied not at the Gap. + +When she went down the street that +day everybody stared surreptitiously and +with perfect respect, as her dainty black +plumed figure passed; the post-office clerk +could barely bring himself to say that there +was no letter for her. The soda-fountain +boy nearly filled her glass with syrup before +he saw that he was not strictly minding +his own business; the clerk, when I +bought chocolate for her, unblushingly +added extra weight and, as we went back, +she met them both--Marston, the young +engineer from the North, crossing the +street and, at the same moment, a drunken +young tough with an infuriated face reeling +in a run around the corner ahead of +us as though he were being pursued. +Now we have a volunteer police guard +some forty strong at the Gap--and from +habit, I started for him, but the Blight +caught my arm tight. The young +engineer in three strides had reached the +curb-stone and all he sternly said was: + +``Here! Here!'' + +The drunken youth wheeled and his +right hand shot toward his hip pocket. +The engineer was belted with a pistol, but +with one lightning movement and an +incredibly long reach, his right fist caught +the fellow's jaw so that he pitched +backward and collapsed like an empty bag. +Then the engineer caught sight of the +Blight's bewildered face, flushed, gripped +his hands in front of him and simply +stared. At last he saw me: + +``Oh,'' he said, ``how do you do?'' +and he turned to his prisoner, but the +panting sergeant and another policeman-- +also a volunteer--were already lifting him +to his feet. I introduced the boy and the +Blight then, and for the first time in my +life I saw the Blight--shaken. Round- +eyed, she merely gazed at him. + +``That was pretty well done,'' I said. + +``Oh, he was drunk and I knew he +would be slow.'' Now something curious +happened. The dazed prisoner was on +his feet, and his captors were starting with +him to the calaboose when he seemed suddenly +to come to his senses. + +``Jes wait a minute, will ye?'' he said +quietly, and his captors, thinking perhaps +that he wanted to say something to me, +stopped. The mountain youth turned a +strangely sobered face and fixed his blue +eyes on the engineer as though he were +searing every feature of that imperturbable +young man in his brain forever. It +was not a bad face, but the avenging +hatred in it was fearful. Then he, too, +saw the Blight, his face calmed magically +and he, too, stared at her, and turned away +with an oath checked at his lips. We went +on--the Blight thrilled, for she had heard +much of our volunteer force at the Gap +and had seen something already. Presently +I looked back. Prisoner and captors +were climbing the little hill toward the +calaboose and the mountain boy just then +turned his head and I could swear that his +eyes sought not the engineer, whom we +left at the corner, but, like the engineer, +he was looking at the Blight. Whereat I +did not wonder--particularly as to the +engineer. He had been in the mountains for +a long time and I knew what this vision +from home meant to him. He turned up +at the house quite early that night. + +``I'm not on duty until eleven,'' he +said hesitantly, `` and I thought I'd----'' + +``Come right in.'' + +I asked him a few questions about +business and then I left him and the Blight +alone. When I came back she had a Gatling +gun of eager questions ranged on him +and--happy withal--he was squirming no +little. I followed him to the gate. + +``Are you really going over into those +God-forsaken mountains?'' he asked. + +``I thought I would.'' + +``And you are going to take HER?'' + +``And my sister.'' + +``Oh, I beg your pardon.'' He strode +away. + +``Coming up by the mines?'' he called +back. + +``Perhaps will you show us around?'' + +``I guess I will,'' he said emphatically, +and he went on to risk his neck on a ten- +mile ride along a mountain road in the +dark. + +``I LIKE a man,'' said the Blight. ``I +like a MAN.'' + +Of course the Blight must see everything, +so she insisted on going to the police +court next morning for the trial of the +mountain boy. The boy was in the witness +chair when we got there, and the +Hon. Samuel Budd was his counsel. He +had volunteered to defend the prisoner, I +was soon told, and then I understood. +The November election was not far off and +the Hon. Samuel Budd was candidate for +legislature. More even, the boy's father +was a warm supporter of Mr. Budd and +the boy himself might perhaps render good +service in the cause when the time came-- +as indeed he did. On one of the front +chairs sat the young engineer and it was +a question whether he or the prisoner saw +the Blight's black plumes first. The eyes +of both flashed toward her simultaneously, +the engineer colored perceptibly and +the mountain boy stopped short in speech +and his pallid face flushed with unmistakable +shame. Then he went on: ``He had +liquered up,'' he said, ``and had got tight +afore he knowed it and he didn't mean +no harm and had never been arrested +afore in his whole life.'' + +``Have you ever been drunk before?'' +asked the prosecuting attorney severely. +The lad looked surprised. + +``Co'se I have, but I ain't goin' to agin +--leastwise not in this here town.'' There +was a general laugh at this and the aged +mayor rapped loudly. + +``That will do,'' said the attorney. + +The lad stepped down, hitched his chair +slightly so that his back was to the Blight, +sank down in it until his head rested on +the back of the chair and crossed his legs. +The Hon. Samuel Budd arose and the +Blight looked at him with wonder. His +long yellow hair was parted in the middle +and brushed with plaster-like precision +behind two enormous ears, he wore spectacles, +gold-rimmed and with great staring +lenses, and his face was smooth and +ageless. He caressed his chin ruminatingly +and rolled his lips until they settled into a +fine resultant of wisdom, patience, toleration +and firmness. His manner was profound +and his voice oily and soothing. + +``May it please your Honor--my young +friend frankly pleads guilty.'' He paused +as though the majesty of the law could ask +no more. ``He is a young man of naturally +high and somewhat--naturally, too, +no doubt--bibulous spirits. Homoepathically-- +if inversely--the result was logical. +In the untrammelled life of the liberty- +breathing mountains, where the stern spirit +of law and order, of which your Honor is +the august symbol, does not prevail as it +does here--thanks to your Honor's wise +and just dispensations--the lad has, I +may say, naturally acquired a certain +recklessness of mood--indulgence which, +however easily condoned there, must here be +sternly rebuked. At the same time, he +knew not the conditions here, he became +exhilarated without malice, prepensey or +even, I may say, consciousness. He would +not have done as he has, if he had known +what he knows now, and, knowing, he will +not repeat the offence. I need say no +more. I plead simply that your Honor +will temper the justice that is only yours +with the mercy that is yours--only.'' + +His Honor was visibly affected and to +cover it--his methods being informal--he +said with sharp irrelevancy: + +``Who bailed this young feller out last +night?'' The sergeant spoke: + +``Why, Mr. Marston thar''--with +outstretched finger toward the young +engineer. The Blight's black eyes leaped +with exultant appreciation and the engineer +turned crimson. His Honor rolled his +quid around in his mouth once, and peered +over his glasses: + +``I fine this young feller two dollars and +costs.'' The young fellow had turned +slowly in his chair and his blue eyes blazed +at the engineer with unappeasable hatred. +I doubt if he had heard his Honor's +voice. + +``I want ye to know that I'm obleeged +to ye an' I ain't a-goin' to fergit it; but +if I'd a known hit was you I'd a stayed +in jail an' seen you in hell afore I'd a been +bounden to ye.'' + +``Ten dollars fer contempt of couht.'' +The boy was hot now. + +``Oh, fine and be--'' The Hon. Samuel +Budd had him by the shoulder, the boy +swallowed his voice and his starting tears +of rage, and after a whisper to his Honor, +the Hon. Samuel led him out. Outside, +the engineer laughed to the Blight: + +``Pretty peppery, isn't he?'' but the +Blight said nothing, and later we saw the +youth on a gray horse crossing the bridge +and conducted by the Hon. Samuel Budd, +who stopped and waved him toward the +mountains. The boy went on and across +the plateau, the gray Gap swallowed him. +That night, at the post-office, the Hon. +Sam plucked me aside by the sleeve. + +``I know Marston is agin me in this +race--but I'll do him a good turn just the +same. You tell him to watch out for that +young fellow. He's all right when he's +sober, but when he's drunk--well, over in +Kentucky, they call him the Wild Dog.'' + + +Several days later we started out through +that same Gap. The glum stableman +looked at the Blight's girths three times, +and with my own eyes starting and my +heart in my mouth, I saw her pass behind +her sixteen-hand-high mule and give him a +friendly tap on the rump as she went by. +The beast gave an appreciative flop of one +ear and that was all. Had I done that, +any further benefit to me or mine would +be incorporated in the terms of an insurance +policy. So, stating this, I believe I +state the limit and can now go on to say +at last that it was because she seemed to +be loved by man and brute alike that a +big man of her own town, whose body, +big as it was, was yet too small for his +heart and from whose brain things went +off at queer angles, always christened her +perversely as--``The Blight.'' + + + + + +II + +ON THE WILD DOG'S TRAIL + +So up we went past Bee Rock, Preacher's +Creek and Little Looney, past +the mines where high on a ``tipple'' stood +the young engineer looking down at us, +and looking after the Blight as we passed +on into a dim rocky avenue walled on each +side with rhododendrons. I waved at him +and shook my head--we would see him +coming back. Beyond a deserted log- +cabin we turned up a spur of the mountain. +Around a clump of bushes we came on +a gray-bearded mountaineer holding his +horse by the bridle and from a covert high +above two more men appeared with +Winchesters. The Blight breathed forth an +awed whisper: + +``Are they moonshiners?'' + +I nodded sagely, ``Most likely,'' and +the Blight was thrilled. They might have +been squirrel-hunters most innocent, but +the Blight had heard much talk of moonshine +stills and mountain feuds and the +men who run them and I took the risk of +denying her nothing. Up and up we went, +those two mules swaying from side to side +with a motion little short of elephantine +and, by and by, the Blight called out: + +``You ride ahead and don't you DARE +look back.'' + +Accustomed to obeying the Blight's +orders, I rode ahead with eyes to the front. +Presently, a shriek made me turn suddenly. +It was nothing--my little sister's mule had +gone near a steep cliff--perilously near, as +its rider thought, but I saw why I must not +look back; those two little girls were riding +astride on side-saddles, the booted little +right foot of each dangling stirrupless--a +posture quite decorous but ludicrous. + +``Let us know if anybody comes,'' they +cried. A mountaineer descended into sight +around a loop of the path above. + +``Change cars,'' I shouted. + +They changed and, passing, were grave, +demure--then they changed again, and +thus we climbed. + +Such a glory as was below, around and +above us; the air like champagne; the sunlight +rich and pouring like a flood on the +gold that the beeches had strewn in the +path, on the gold that the poplars still +shook high above and shimmering on the +royal scarlet of the maple and the sombre +russet of the oak. From far below us to far +above us a deep curving ravine was slashed +into the mountain side as by one stroke of +a gigantic scimitar. The darkness deep +down was lighted up with cool green, +interfused with liquid gold. Russet and +yellow splashed the mountain sides beyond +and high up the maples were in a shaking +blaze. The Blight's swift eyes took all in +and with indrawn breath she drank it all +deep down. + +An hour by sun we were near the top, +which was bared of trees and turned into +rich farm-land covered with blue-grass. +Along these upland pastures, dotted with +grazing cattle, and across them we rode +toward the mountain wildernesses on the +other side, down into which a zigzag path +wriggles along the steep front of Benham's +spur. At the edge of the steep was a +cabin and a bushy-bearded mountaineer, +who looked like a brigand, answered my +hail. He ``mought'' keep us all night, +but he'd ``ruther not, as we could git a +place to stay down the spur.'' Could we +get down before dark? The mountaineer +lifted his eyes to where the sun was breaking +the horizon of the west into streaks +and splashes of yellow and crimson. + +``Oh, yes, you can git thar afore +dark.'' + +Now I knew that the mountaineer's idea +of distance is vague--but he knows how +long it takes to get from one place to +another. So we started down--dropping at +once into thick dark woods, and as we +went looping down, the deeper was the +gloom. That sun had suddenly severed all +connection with the laws of gravity and +sunk, and it was all the darker because +the stars were not out. The path was +steep and coiled downward like a wounded +snake. In one place a tree had fallen +across it, and to reach the next coil of the +path below was dangerous. So I had the +girls dismount and I led the gray horse +down on his haunches. The mules refused +to follow, which was rather unusual. I +went back and from a safe distance in the +rear I belabored them down. They cared +neither for gray horse nor crooked path, +but turned of their own devilish wills +along the bushy mountain side. As I ran +after them the gray horse started calmly +on down and those two girls shrieked with +laughter--they knew no better. First one +way and then the other down the mountain +went those mules, with me after them, +through thick bushes, over logs, stumps +and bowlders and holes--crossing the path +a dozen times. What that path was there +for never occurred to those long-eared +half asses, whole fools, and by and by, +when the girls tried to shoo them down +they clambered around and above them +and struck the path back up the mountain. +The horse had gone down one way, the +mules up the other, and there was no +health in anything. The girls could not +go up--so there was nothing to do but go +down, which, hard as it was, was easier +than going up. The path was not visible +now. Once in a while I would stumble +from it and crash through the bushes to +the next coil below. Finally I went down, +sliding one foot ahead all the time--knowing +that when leaves rustled under that +foot I was on the point of going astray. +Sometimes I had to light a match to +make sure of the way, and thus the ridiculous +descent was made with those girls in +high spirits behind. Indeed, the darker, +rockier, steeper it got, the more they +shrieked from pure joy--but I was anything +than happy. It was dangerous. I +didn't know the cliffs and high rocks +we might skirt and an unlucky guidance +might land us in the creek-bed far down. +But the blessed stars came out, the moon +peered over a farther mountain and on +the last spur there was the gray horse +browsing in the path--and the sound of +running water not far below. Fortunately +on the gray horse were the saddle-bags of +the chattering infants who thought the +whole thing a mighty lark. We reached +the running water, struck a flock of geese +and knew, in consequence, that humanity +was somewhere near. A few turns of the +creek and a beacon light shone below. +The pales of a picket fence, the cheering +outlines of a log-cabin came in view and +at a peaked gate I shouted: + +``Hello!'' + +You enter no mountaineer's yard without +that announcing cry. It was mediaeval, +the Blight said, positively--two lorn +damsels, a benighted knight partially stripped +of his armor by bush and sharp-edged +rock, a gray palfrey (she didn't mention +the impatient asses that had turned homeward) +and she wished I had a horn to +wind. I wanted a ``horn'' badly enough +--but it was not the kind men wind. By +and by we got a response: + +``Hello!'' was the answer, as an opened +door let out into the yard a broad band of +light. Could we stay all night? The +voice replied that the owner would see +``Pap.'' ``Pap'' seemed willing, and the +boy opened the gate and into the house +went the Blight and the little sister. +Shortly, I followed. + +There, all in one room, lighted by a +huge wood-fire, rafters above, puncheon +floor beneath--cane-bottomed chairs and +two beds the only furniture-``pap,'' +barefooted, the old mother in the chimney- +corner with a pipe, strings of red pepper- +pods, beans and herbs hanging around and +above, a married daughter with a child at +her breast, two or three children with yellow +hair and bare feet all looking with +all their eyes at the two visitors who had +dropped upon them from another world. +The Blight's eyes were brighter than +usual--that was the only sign she gave +that she was not in her own drawing- +room. Apparently she saw nothing +strange or unusual even, but there was +really nothing that she did not see or hear +and absorb, as few others than the Blight +can. + +Straightway, the old woman knocked +the ashes out of her pipe. + +``I reckon you hain't had nothin' to +eat,'' she said and disappeared. The old +man asked questions, the young mother +rocked her baby on her knees, the children +got less shy and drew near the fireplace, +the Blight and the little sister exchanged +a furtive smile and the contrast of the +extremes in American civilization, as shown +in that little cabin, interested me mightily. + +``Yer snack's ready,'' said the old +woman. The old man carried the chairs +into the kitchen, and when I followed the +girls were seated. The chairs were so low +that their chins came barely over their +plates, and demure and serious as they were +they surely looked most comical. There +was the usual bacon and corn-bread and +potatoes and sour milk, and the two girls +struggled with the rude fare nobly. + +After supper I joined the old man and +the old woman with a pipe--exchanging +my tobacco for their long green with more +satisfaction probably to me than to them, +for the long green was good, and strong +and fragrant. + +The old woman asked the Blight and +the little sister many questions and they, in +turn, showed great interest in the baby in +arms, whereat the eighteen-year-old mother +blushed and looked greatly pleased. + +``You got mighty purty black eyes,'' +said the old woman to the Blight, and not +to slight the little sister she added, `` An' +you got mighty purty teeth.'' + +The Blight showed hers in a radiant +smile and the old woman turned back to her. + +``Oh, you've got both,'' she said and +she shook her head, as though she were +thinking of the damage they had done. +It was my time now--to ask questions. + +They didn't have many amusements on +that creek, I discovered--and no dances. +Sometimes the boys went coon-hunting and +there were corn-shuckings, house-raisings +and quilting-parties. + +``Does anybody round here play the +banjo?'' + +``None o' my boys,'' said the old woman, +``but Tom Green's son down the creek +--he follers pickin' the banjo a leetle.'' +``Follows pickin' ''--the Blight did not +miss that phrase. + +``What do you foller fer a livin'?'' the +old man asked me suddenly. + +``I write for a living.'' He thought a +while. + +``Well, it must be purty fine to have a +good handwrite.'' This nearly dissolved +the Blight and the little sister, but they +held on heroically. + +``Is there much fighting around here?'' +I asked presently. + +``Not much 'cept when one young feller +up the river gets to tearin' up things. I +heerd as how he was over to the Gap last +week--raisin' hell. He comes by here on +his way home.'' The Blight's eyes opened +wide--apparently we were on his trail. +It is not wise for a member of the police +guard at the Gap to show too much +curiosity about the lawless ones of the +hills, and I asked no questions. + +``They calls him the Wild Dog over +here,'' he added, and then he yawned +cavernously. + +I looked around with divining eye for +the sleeping arrangements soon to come, +which sometimes are embarrassing to +``furriners'' who are unable to grasp at +once the primitive unconsciousness of the +mountaineers and, in consequence, accept a +point of view natural to them because +enforced by architectural limitations and a +hospitality that turns no one seeking +shelter from any door. They were, however, +better prepared than I had hoped for. +They had a spare room on the porch and +just outside the door, and when the old +woman led the two girls to it, I followed +with their saddle-bags. The room was +about seven feet by six and was windowless. + +``You'd better leave your door open a +little,'' I said, ``or you'll smother in +there.'' + +``Well,'' said the old woman, `` hit's all +right to leave the door open. Nothin's +goin' ter bother ye, but one o' my sons is +out a coon-huntin' and he mought come in, +not knowin' you're thar. But you jes' +holler an' he'll move on.'' She meant +precisely what she said and saw no humor +at all in such a possibility--but when the +door closed, I could hear those girls +stifling shrieks of laughter. + +Literally, that night, I was a member +of the family. I had a bed to myself +(the following night I was not so fortunate)-- +in one corner; behind the head of +mine the old woman, the daughter-in-law +and the baby had another in the other +corner, and the old man with the two boys +spread a pallet on the floor. That is the +invariable rule of courtesy with the +mountaineer, to give his bed to the stranger and +take to the floor himself, and, in passing, +let me say that never, in a long experience, +have I seen the slightest consciousness-- +much less immodesty--in a mountain cabin +in my life. The same attitude on the part +of the visitors is taken for granted--any +other indeed holds mortal possibilities of +offence--so that if the visitor has common +sense, all embarrassment passes at once. +The door was closed, the fire blazed on +uncovered, the smothered talk and laughter +of the two girls ceased, the coon-hunter +came not and the night passed in peace. + +It must have been near daybreak that I +was aroused by the old man leaving the +cabin and I heard voices and the sound of +horses' feet outside. When he came back +he was grinning. + +``Hit's your mules.'' + +``Who found them?'' + +``The Wild Dog had 'em,'' he said. + + + + + +III + +THE AURICULAR TALENT OF THE +HON. SAMUEL BUDD + +Behind us came the Hon. Samuel +Budd. Just when the sun was slitting +the east with a long streak of fire, the +Hon. Samuel was, with the jocund day, +standing tiptoe in his stirrups on the misty +mountain top and peering into the ravine +down which we had slid the night before, +and he grumbled no little when he saw +that he, too, must get off his horse and +slide down. The Hon. Samuel was ambitious, +Southern, and a lawyer. Without +saying, it goes that he was also a +politician. He was not a native of the +mountains, but he had cast his fortunes in the +highlands, and he was taking the first step +that he hoped would, before many years, +land him in the National Capitol. He +really knew little about the mountaineers, +even now, and he had never been among +his constituents on Devil's Fork, where he +was bound now. The campaign had so far +been full of humor and full of trials--not +the least of which sprang from the fact +that it was sorghum time. Everybody +through the mountains was making sorghum, +and every mountain child was eating molasses. + +Now, as the world knows, the straightest +way to the heart of the honest voter is +through the women of the land, and the +straightest way to the heart of the women +is through the children of the land; and +one method of winning both, with rural +politicians, is to kiss the babies wide and +far. So as each infant, at sorghum time, +has a circle of green-brown stickiness about +his chubby lips, and as the Hon. Sam was +averse to ``long sweetenin' '' even in his +coffee, this particular political device just +now was no small trial to the Hon. Samuel +Budd. But in the language of one of his +firmest supporters Uncle Tommie Hendricks: + +``The Hon. Sam done his duty, and he +done it damn well.'' + +The issue at stake was the site of the +new Court-House--two localities claiming +the right undisputed, because they were +the only two places in the county where +there was enough level land for the Court- +House to stand on. Let no man think this +a trivial issue. There had been a similar +one over on the Virginia side once, and +the opposing factions agreed to decide the +question by the ancient wager of battle, +fist and skull--two hundred men on each +side--and the women of the county with +difficulty prevented the fight. Just now, +Mr. Budd was on his way to ``The +Pocket''--the voting place of one faction +--where he had never been, where the +hostility against him was most bitter, and, +that day, he knew he was ``up against'' +Waterloo, the crossing of the Rubicon, +holding the pass at Thermopylae, or any +other historical crisis in the history of +man. I was saddling the mules when the +cackling of geese in the creek announced +the coming of the Hon. Samuel Budd, +coming with his chin on his breast-deep +in thought. Still his eyes beamed cheerily, +he lifted his slouched hat gallantly to the +Blight and the little sister, and he would +wait for us to jog along with him. I told +him of our troubles, meanwhile. The +Wild Dog had restored our mules and +the Hon. Sam beamed: + +``He's a wonder--where is he?'' + +``He never waited--even for thanks.'' + +Again the Hon. Sam beamed: + +``Ah! just like him. He's gone ahead +to help me.'' + +``Well, how did he happen to be here?'' +I asked. + +``He's everywhere,'' said the Hon. Sam. + +``How did he know the mules were +ours?'' + +``Easy. That boy knows everything.'' + +``Well, why did he bring them back +and then leave so mysteriously?'' + +The Hon. Sam silently pointed a finger +at the laughing Blight ahead, and I looked +incredulous. + +``Just the same, that's another reason I +told you to warn Marston. He's already +got it in his head that Marston is his +rival.'' + +``Pshaw!'' I said--for it was too +ridiculous. + +``All right,'' said the Hon. Sam placidly. + +``Then why doesn't he want to see +her?'' +``How do you know he ain't watchin' +her now, for all we know? Mark me,'' +he added, ``you won't see him at the +speakin', but I'll bet fruit cake agin +gingerbread he'll be somewhere around.'' + +So we went on, the two girls leading +the way and the Hon. Sam now telling +his political troubles to me. Half a +mile down the road, a solitary horseman +stood waiting, and Mr. Budd gave a low +whistle. + +``One o' my rivals,'' he said, from the +corner of his mouth. + +``Mornin','' said the horseman; ``lemme +see you a minute.'' + +He made a movement to draw aside, +but the Hon. Samuel made a counter- +gesture of dissent. + +``This gentleman is a friend of mine,'' +he said firmly, but with great courtesy, +``and he can hear what you have to say +to me.'' + +The mountaineer rubbed one huge hand +over his stubbly chin, threw one of his +long legs over the pommel of his saddle, +and dangled a heavy cowhide shoe to and +fro. + +``Would you mind tellin' me whut pay +a member of the House of Legislatur' gits +a day?'' + +The Hon. Sam looked surprised. + +``I think about two dollars and a half.'' + +``An' his meals?'' + +``No!'' laughed Mr. Budd. + +``Well, look-ee here, stranger. I'm a +pore man an' I've got a mortgage on my +farm. That money don't mean nothin' to +you--but if you'll draw out now an' I +win, I'll tell ye whut I'll do.'' He paused +as though to make sure that the sacrifice +was possible. ``I'll just give ye half of +that two dollars and a half a day, as shore +as you're a-settin' on that hoss, and you +won't hav' to hit a durn lick to earn it.'' + +I had not the heart to smile--nor did +the Hon. Samuel--so artless and simple +was the man and so pathetic his appeal. + +``You see--you'll divide my vote, an' +ef we both run, ole Josh Barton'll git it +shore. Ef you git out o' the way, I can +lick him easy.'' + +Mr. Budd's answer was kind, +instructive, and uplifted. + +``My friend,'' said he, ``I'm sorry, but +I cannot possibly accede to your request +for the following reasons: First, it would +not be fair to my constituents; secondly, it +would hardly be seeming to barter the +noble gift of the people to which we both +aspire; thirdly, you might lose with me +out of the way; and fourthly, I'm going +to win whether you are in the way or +not.'' + +The horseman slowly collapsed while +the Hon. Samuel was talking, and now he +threw the leg back, kicked for his stirrup +twice, spat once, and turned his horse's +head. + +``I reckon you will, stranger,'' he said +sadly, ``with that gift o' gab o' yourn.'' +He turned without another word or nod of +good-by and started back up the creek +whence he had come. + +``One gone,'' said the Hon. Samuel +Budd grimly, ``and I swear I'm right +sorry for him.'' And so was I. + +An hour later we struck the river, and +another hour upstream brought us to where +the contest of tongues was to come about. +No sylvan dell in Arcady could have +been lovelier than the spot. Above the +road, a big spring poured a clear little +stream over shining pebbles into the river; +above it the bushes hung thick with autumn +leaves, and above them stood yellow +beeches like pillars of pale fire. On both +sides of the road sat and squatted the +honest voters, sour-looking, disgruntled--a +distinctly hostile crowd. The Blight and +my little sister drew great and curious +attention as they sat on a bowlder above the +spring while I went with the Hon. Samuel +Budd under the guidance of Uncle Tommie +Hendricks, who introduced him right +and left. The Hon. Samuel was cheery, +but he was plainly nervous. There were +two lanky youths whose names, oddly +enough, were Budd. As they gave him +their huge paws in lifeless fashion, the +Hon. Samuel slapped one on the shoulder, +with the true democracy of the politician, +and said jocosely: + +``Well, we Budds may not be what you +call great people, but, thank God, none +of us have ever been in the penitentiary,'' +and he laughed loudly, thinking that he +had scored a great and jolly point. The +two young men looked exceedingly grave +and Uncle Tommie panic-stricken. He +plucked the Hon. Sam by the sleeve and +led him aside: + +``I reckon you made a leetle mistake +thar. Them two fellers' daddy died in the +penitentiary last spring.'' The Hon. Sam +whistled mournfully, but he looked game +enough when his opponent rose to speak +--Uncle Josh Barton, who had short, +thick, upright hair, little sharp eyes, and a +rasping voice. Uncle Josh wasted no time: + +``Feller-citizens,'' he shouted, ``this +man is a lawyer--he's a corporation +lawyer''; the fearful name--pronounced +``lie-yer''--rang through the crowd like a +trumpet, and like lightning the Hon. Sam +was on his feet. + +``The man who says that is a liar,'' he +said calmly, `` and I demand your authority +for the statement. If you won't give +it--I shall hold you personally responsible, +sir.'' + +It was a strike home, and under the +flashing eyes that stared unwaveringly, +through the big goggles, Uncle Josh halted +and stammered and admitted that he +might have been misinformed. + +``Then I advise you to be more careful,'' +cautioned the Hon. Samuel sharply. + +``Feller-citizens,'' said Uncle Josh, ``if +he ain't a corporation lawyer--who is this +man? Where did he come from? I have +been born and raised among you. You all +know me--do you know him? Whut's he +a-doin' now? He's a fine-haired furriner, +an' he's come down hyeh from the settlemints +to tell ye that you hain't got no man +in yo' own deestrict that's fittin' to +represent ye in the legislatur'. Look at him-- +look at him! He's got FOUR eyes! Look +at his hair--hit's PARTED IN THE MIDDLE!'' +There was a storm of laughter--Uncle +Josh had made good--and if the Hon. +Samuel could straightway have turned +bald-headed and sightless, he would have +been a happy man. He looked sick with +hopelessness, but Uncle Tommie +Hendricks, his mentor, was vigorously +whispering something in his ear, and gradually +his face cleared. Indeed, the Hon. Samuel +was smilingly confident when he rose. + +Like his rival, he stood in the open road, +and the sun beat down on his parted yellow +hair, so that the eyes of all could +see, and the laughter was still running +round. + +``Who is your Uncle Josh?'' he asked +with threatening mildness. ``I know I was +not born here, but, my friends, I couldn't +help that. And just as soon as I could +get away from where I was born, I came +here and,'' he paused with lips parted and +long finger outstretched, `` and--I--came +--because--I WANTED--to come--and NOT +because I HAD TO.'' + +Now it seems that Uncle Josh, too, was +not a native and that he had left home +early in life for his State's good and for his +own. Uncle Tommie had whispered this, +and the Hon. Samuel raised himself high +on both toes while the expectant crowd, on +the verge of a roar, waited--as did Uncle +Joshua, with a sickly smile. + +``Why did your Uncle Josh come +among you? Because he was hoop-poled +away from home.'' Then came the roar-- +and the Hon. Samuel had to quell it with +uplifted hand. + +``And did your Uncle Joshua marry a +mountain wife? No I He didn't think +any of your mountain women were good +enough for him, so he slips down into the +settlemints and STEALS one. And now, +fellow-citizens, that is just what I'm here for +--I'm looking for a nice mountain girl, +and I'm going to have her.'' Again the +Hon. Samuel had to still the roar, and then +he went on quietly to show how they must +lose the Court-House site if they did not +send him to the legislature, and how, while +they might not get it if they did send him, +it was their only hope to send only him. +The crowd had grown somewhat hostile +again, and it was after one telling period, +when the Hon. Samuel stopped to mop his +brow, that a gigantic mountaineer rose in +the rear of the crowd: + +``Talk on, stranger; you're talking +sense. I'll trust ye. You've got big +ears!'' + +Now the Hon. Samuel possessed a +primordial talent that is rather rare in these +physically degenerate days. He said nothing, +but stood quietly in the middle of the +road. The eyes of the crowd on either +side of the road began to bulge, the lips +of all opened with wonder, and a simultaneous +burst of laughter rose around the +Hon. Samuel Budd. A dozen men sprang +to their feet and rushed up to him--looking +at those remarkable ears, as they +gravely wagged to and fro. That settled +things, and as we left, the Hon. Sam was +having things his own way, and on the +edge of the crowd Uncle Tommie Hendricks +was shaking his head: + +``I tell ye, boys, he ain't no jackass +even if he can flop his ears.'' + +At the river we started upstream, and +some impulse made me turn in my saddle +and look back. All the time I had had an +eye open for the young mountaineer whose +interest in us seemed to be so keen. And +now I saw, standing at the head of a gray +horse, on the edge of the crowd, a tall +figure with his hands on his hips and looking +after us. I couldn't be sure, but it +looked like the Wild Dog. + + + + + +IV + +CLOSE QUARTERS + +Two hours up the river we struck +Buck. Buck was sitting on the +fence by the roadside, barefooted and hatless. + +``How-dye-do?'' I said. + +``Purty well,'' said Buck. + +``Any fish in this river?'' + +``Several,'' said Buck. Now in mountain +speech, ``several'' means simply ``a +good many.'' + +``Any minnows in these branches?'' + +``I seed several in the branch back o' +our house.'' + +``How far away do you live?'' + +``Oh, 'bout one whoop an' a holler.'' If +he had spoken Greek the Blight could not +have been more puzzled. He meant he +lived as far as a man's voice would carry +with one yell and a holla. + +``Will you help me catch some?'' +Buck nodded. + +``All right,'' I said, turning my horse up +to the fence. ``Get on behind.'' The +horse shied his hind quarters away, and I +pulled him back. + +``Now, you can get on, if you'll be +quick.'' Buck sat still. + +``Yes,'' he said imperturbably; ``but I +ain't quick.'' The two girls laughed +aloud, and Buck looked surprised. + +Around a curving cornfield we went, +and through a meadow which Buck said +was a ``nigh cut.'' From the limb of a +tree that we passed hung a piece of wire +with an iron ring swinging at its upturned +end. A little farther was another tree and +another ring, and farther on another and +another. + +``For heaven's sake, Buck, what are +these things?'' + +``Mart's a-gittin' ready fer a tourneyment.'' + +``A what?'' + +``That's whut Mart calls hit. He was +over to the Gap last Fourth o' July, an' he +says fellers over thar fix up like Kuklux and +go a-chargin' on hosses and takin' off them +rings with a ash-stick--`spear,' Mart +calls hit. He come back an' he says he's +a-goin' to win that ar tourneyment next +Fourth o' July. He's got the best hoss up +this river, and on Sundays him an' Dave +Branham goes a-chargin' along here a-picking +off these rings jus' a-flyin'; an' Mart +can do hit, I'm tellin' ye. Dave's mighty +good hisself, but he ain't nowhar 'longside +o' Mart.'' + +This was strange. I had told the Blight +about our Fourth of July, and how on the +Virginia side the ancient custom of the +tournament still survived. It was on the +last Fourth of July that she had meant to +come to the Gap. Truly civilization was +spreading throughout the hills. + +``Who's Mart?'' + +``Mart's my brother,'' said little Buck. + +``He was over to the Gap not long ago, +an' he come back mad as hops--'' He +stopped suddenly, and in such a way that +I turned my head, knowing that caution +had caught Buck. + +``What about?'' + +``Oh, nothin','' said Buck carelessly; +``only he's been quar ever since. My sisters +says he's got a gal over thar, an' +he's a-pickin' off these rings more'n ever +now. He's going to win or bust a belly- +band.'' + +``Well, who's Dave Branham?'' + +Buck grinned. ``You jes axe my sister +Mollie. Thar she is.'' + +Before us was a white-framed house of +logs in the porch of which stood two stalwart, +good-looking girls. Could we stay +all night? We could--there was no +hesitation--and straight in we rode. + +``Where's your father?'' Both girls +giggled, and one said, with frank unembarrassment: + +``Pap's tight!'' That did not look +promising, but we had to stay just the +same. Buck helped me to unhitch the +mules, helped me also to catch minnows, +and in half an hour we started down the +river to try fishing before dark came. +Buck trotted along. + +``Have you got a wagon, Buck?'' + +``What fer?'' + +``To bring the fish back.'' Buck was +not to be caught napping. + +``We got that sled thar, but hit won't +be big enough,'' he said gravely. ``An' +our two-hoss wagon's out in the cornfield. +We'll have to string the fish, leave 'em in +the river and go fer 'em in the mornin'.'' + +``All right, Buck.'' The Blight was +greatly amused at Buck. + +Two hundred yards down the road +stood his sisters over the figure of a man +outstretched in the road. Unashamed, +they smiled at us. The man in the road +was ``pap''--tight--and they were trying +to get him home. + +We cast into a dark pool farther down +and fished most patiently; not a bite--not +a nibble. + +``Are there any fish in here, Buck?'' + +``Dunno--used ter be.'' The shadows +deepened; we must go back to the house. + +``Is there a dam below here, Buck?'' + +``Yes, thar's a dam about a half-mile +down the river.'' + +I was disgusted. No wonder there were +no bass in that pool. + +``Why didn't you tell me that before?'' + +``You never axed me,'' said Buck placidly. + +I began winding in my line. + +``Ain't no bottom to that pool,'' said +Buck. + +Now I never saw any rural community +where there was not a bottomless pool, and +I suddenly determined to shake one tradition +in at least one community. So I took +an extra fish-line, tied a stone to it, and +climbed into a canoe, Buck watching me, +but not asking a word. + +``Get in, Buck.'' + +Silently he got in and I pushed off--to +the centre. + +``This the deepest part, Buck?'' + +``I reckon so.'' + +I dropped in the stone and the line +reeled out some fifty feet and began to coil +on the surface of the water. + +``I guess that's on the bottom, isn't it, +Buck?'' + +Buck looked genuinely distressed; but +presently he brightened. + +``Yes,'' he said, `` ef hit ain't on a turtle's back.'' + +Literally I threw up both hands and +back we trailed--fishless. + +``Reckon you won't need that two-hoss +wagon,'' said Buck. +``No, Buck, I think not.'' Buck looked +at the Blight and gave himself the pleasure +of his first chuckle. A big crackling, cheerful +fire awaited us. Through the door I +could see, outstretched on a bed in the next +room, the limp figure of ``pap'' in alcoholic +sleep. The old mother, big, kind- +faced, explained--and there was a heaven +of kindness and charity in her drawling +voice. + +``Dad didn' often git that a-way,'' she +said; ``but he'd been out a-huntin' hawgs +that mornin' and had met up with some +teamsters and gone to a political speakin' +and had tuk a dram or two of their mean +whiskey, and not havin' nothin' on his +stummick, hit had all gone to his head. +No, `pap' didn't git that a-way often, and +he'd be all right jes' as soon as he slept it +off a while.'' The old woman moved +about with a cane and the sympathetic +Blight merely looked a question at her. + +``Yes, she'd fell down a year ago--and +had sort o' hurt herself--didn't do nothin', +though, 'cept break one hip,'' she added, in +her kind, patient old voice. Did many +people stop there? Oh, yes, sometimes fifteen +at a time--they ``never turned nobody +away.'' And she had a big family, +little Cindy and the two big girls and Buck +and Mart--who was out somewhere--and +the hired man, and yes--``Thar was another +boy, but he was fitified,'' said one +of the big sisters. + +``I beg your pardon,'' said the +wondering Blight, but she knew that phrase +wouldn't do, so she added politely: + +``What did you say?'' + +``Fitified--Tom has fits. He's in a +asylum in the settlements.'' + +``Tom come back once an' he was all +right,'' said the old mother; ``but he +worried so much over them gals workin' so +hard that it plum' throwed him off ag'in, +and we had to send him back.'' + +``Do you work pretty hard?'' I asked +presently. Then a story came that was full +of unconscious pathos, because there was +no hint of complaint--simply a plain +statement of daily life. They got up before +the men, in order to get breakfast ready; +then they went with the men into the fields +--those two girls--and worked like men. +At dark they got supper ready, and after +the men went to bed they worked on-- +washing dishes and clearing up the kitchen. +They took it turn about getting supper, +and sometimes, one said, she was ``so +plumb tuckered out that she'd drap on the +bed and go to sleep ruther than eat her +own supper.'' No wonder poor Tom had +to go back to the asylum. All the +while the two girls stood by the fire +looking, politely but minutely, at the two +strange girls and their curious clothes and +their boots, and the way they dressed their +hair. Their hard life seemed to have hurt +them none--for both were the pictures of +health--whatever that phrase means. + +After supper ``pap'' came in, perfectly +sober, with a big ruddy face, giant frame, +and twinkling gray eyes. He was the man +who had risen to speak his faith in the +Hon. Samuel Budd that day on the size of +the Hon. Samuel's ears. He, too, was +unashamed and, as he explained his plight +again, he did it with little apology. + +``I seed ye at the speakin' to-day. That +man Budd is a good man. He done somethin' +fer a boy o' mine over at the Gap.'' +Like little Buck, he, too, stopped short. +``He's a good man an' I'm a-goin' to help +him.'' + +Yes, he repeated, quite irrelevantly, it +was hunting hogs all day with nothing to +eat and only mean whiskey to drink. +Mart had not come in yet--he was +``workin' out'' now. + +``He's the best worker in these +mountains,'' said the old woman; ``Mart works +too hard.'' + +The hired man appeared and joined us +at the fire. Bedtime came, and I whispered +jokingly to the Blight: + +``I believe I'll ask that good-looking +one to `set up' with me.'' ``Settin' up'' +is what courting is called in the hills. The +couple sit up in front of the fire after +everybody else has gone to bed. The man +puts his arm around the girl's neck and +whispers; then she puts her arm around his +neck and whispers--so that the rest may +not hear. This I had related to the Blight, +and now she withered me. + +``You just do, now!'' + +I turned to the girl in question, whose +name was Mollie. ``Buck told me to ask +you who Dave Branham was.'' Mollie +wheeled, blushing and angry, but Buck had +darted cackling out the door. ``Oh,'' I +said, and I changed the subject. ``What +time do you get up?'' + +``Oh, 'bout crack o' day.'' I was tired, +and that was discouraging. + +``Do you get up that early every morning?'' + +``No,'' was the quick answer; ``a +mornin' later.'' + +A morning later, Mollie got up, each +morning. The Blight laughed. + +Pretty soon the two girls were taken into +the next room, which was a long one, with +one bed in one dark corner, one in the +other, and a third bed in the middle. The +feminine members of the family all followed +them out on the porch and watched +them brush their teeth, for they had never +seen tooth-brushes before. They watched +them prepare for bed--and I could hear +much giggling and comment and many +questions, all of which culminated, by and +by, in a chorus of shrieking laughter. +That climax, as I learned next morning, +was over the Blight's hot-water bag. +Never had their eyes rested on an article +of more wonder and humor than that +water bag. + +By and by, the feminine members came +back and we sat around the fire. Still +Mart did not appear, though somebody +stepped into the kitchen, and from the +warning glance that Mollie gave Buck +when she left the room I guessed that the +newcomer was her lover Dave. Pretty +soon the old man yawned. + +``Well, mammy, I reckon this stranger's +about ready to lay down, if you've got a +place fer him.'' + +``Git a light, Buck,'' said the old +woman. Buck got a light--a chimneyless, +smoking oil-lamp--and led me into the +same room where the Blight and my little +sister were. Their heads were covered +up, but the bed in the gloom of one corner +was shaking with their smothered laughter. +Buck pointed to the middle bed. + +``I can get along without that light, +Buck,'' I said, and I must have been +rather haughty and abrupt, for a stifled +shriek came from under the bedclothes in +the corner and Buck disappeared swiftly. +Preparations for bed are simple in the +mountains--they were primitively simple +for me that night. Being in knickerbockers, +I merely took off my coat and +shoes. Presently somebody else stepped +into the room and the bed in the other +corner creaked. Silence for a while. +Then the door opened, and the head of the +old woman was thrust in. + +``Mart!'' she said coaxingly; ``git up +thar now an' climb over inter bed with +that ar stranger.'' + +That was Mart at last, over in the +corner. Mart turned, grumbled, and, to my +great pleasure, swore that he wouldn't. +The old woman waited a moment. + +``Mart,'' she said again with gentle +imperiousness, `` git up thar now, I tell ye +--you've got to sleep with that thar +stranger.'' + +She closed the door and with a snort +Mart piled into bed with me. I gave him +plenty of room and did not introduce +myself. A little more dark silence--the +shaking of the bed under the hilarity +of those astonished, bethrilled, but +thoroughly unfrightened young women in the +dark corner on my left ceased, and again +the door opened. This time it was the +hired man, and I saw that the trouble was +either that neither Mart nor Buck wanted +to sleep with the hired man or that neither +wanted to sleep with me. A long silence +and then the boy Buck slipped in. The +hired man delivered himself with the +intonation somewhat of a circuit rider. + +``I've been a-watchin' that star thar, +through the winder. Sometimes hit moves, +then hit stands plum' still, an' ag'in hit gits +to pitchin'.'' The hired man must have +been touching up mean whiskey himself. +Meanwhile, Mart seemed to be having +spells of troubled slumber. He would +snore gently, accentuate said snore with a +sudden quiver of his body and then wake +up with a climacteric snort and start that +would shake the bed. This was repeated +several times, and I began to think of the +unfortunate Tom who was ``fitified.'' +Mart seemed on the verge of a fit himself, +and I waited apprehensively for each +snorting climax to see if fits were a family +failing. They were not. Peace overcame +Mart and he slept deeply, but not I. The +hired man began to show symptoms. He +would roll and groan, dreaming of feuds, +_quorum pars magna fuit_, it seemed, and +of religious conversion, in which he feared +he was not so great. Twice he said aloud: + +``An' I tell you thar wouldn't a one of +'em have said a word if I'd been killed +stone-dead.'' Twice he said it almost +weepingly, and now and then he would +groan appealingly: + +``O Lawd, have mercy on my pore +soul!'' + +Fortunately those two tired girls slept-- +I could hear their breathing--but sleep +there was little for me. Once the troubled +soul with the hoe got up and stumbled out +to the water-bucket on the porch to soothe +the fever or whatever it was that was +burning him, and after that he was quiet. +I awoke before day. The dim light at the +window showed an empty bed--Buck and +the hired man were gone. Mart was slipping +out of the side of my bed, but the +girls still slept on. I watched Mart, for +I guessed I might now see what, perhaps, +is the distinguishing trait of American +civilization down to its bed-rock, as you +find it through the West and in the Southern +hills--a chivalrous respect for women. +Mart thought I was asleep. Over in the +corner were two creatures the like of which +I supposed he had never seen and would +not see, since he came in too late the night +before, and was going away too early now +--and two angels straight from heaven +could not have stirred my curiosity any +more than they already must have stirred +his. But not once did Mart turn his eyes, +much less his face, toward the corner where +they were--not once, for I watched him +closely. And when he went out he sent +his little sister back for his shoes, which +the night-walking hired man had +accidentally kicked toward the foot of the +strangers' bed. In a minute I was out +after him, but he was gone. Behind me +the two girls opened their eyes on a room +that was empty save for them. Then the +Blight spoke (this I was told later). + +``Dear,'' she said, ``have our room- +mates gone?'' + +Breakfast at dawn. The mountain girls +were ready to go to work. All looked +sorry to have us leave. They asked us to +come back again, and they meant it. We +said we would like to come back--and we +meant it--to see them--the kind old +mother, the pioneer-like old man, sturdy +little Buck, shy little Cindy, the elusive, +hard-working, unconsciously shivery Mart, +and the two big sisters. As we started +back up the river the sisters started for the +fields, and I thought of their stricken +brother in the settlements, who must have +been much like Mart. + +Back up the Big Black Mountain we +toiled, and late in the afternoon we were +on the State line that runs the crest of the +Big Black. Right on top and bisected by +that State line sat a dingy little shack, and +there, with one leg thrown over the pommel +of his saddle, sat Marston, drinking +water from a gourd. + +``I was coming over to meet you,'' he +said, smiling at the Blight, who, greatly +pleased, smiled back at him. The shack +was a ``blind Tiger'' where whiskey could +be sold to Kentuckians on the Virginia side +and to Virginians on the Kentucky side. +Hanging around were the slouching figures +of several moonshiners and the villainous +fellow who ran it. + +``They are real ones all right,'' said +Marston. ``One of them killed a revenue +officer at that front door last week, and +was killed by the posse as he was trying +to escape out of the back window. That +house will be in ashes soon,'' he added. +And it was. + +As we rode down the mountain we told +him about our trip and the people with +whom we had spent the night--and all the +time he was smiling curiously. + +``Buck,'' he said. ``Oh, yes, I know +that little chap. Mart had him posted +down there on the river to toll you to his +house--to toll YOU,'' he added to the +Blight. He pulled in his horse suddenly, +turned and looked up toward the top of +the mountain. + +``Ah, I thought so.'' We all looked +back. On the edge of the cliff, far upward, +on which the ``blind Tiger'' sat was +a gray horse, and on it was a man who, +motionless, was looking down at us. + +``He's been following you all the way,'' +said the engineer. + +``Who's been following us?'' I asked. + +``That's Mart up there--my friend and +yours,'' said Marston to the Blight. ``I'm +rather glad I didn't meet you on the other +side of the mountain--that's `the Wild +Dog.' '' The Blight looked incredulous, but +Marston knew the man and knew the horse. + +So Mart--hard-working Mart--was +the Wild Dog, and he was content to do +the Blight all service without thanks, +merely for the privilege of secretly seeing +her face now and then; and yet he would +not look upon that face when she was a +guest under his roof and asleep. + +Still, when we dropped behind the two +girls I gave Marston the Hon. Sam's +warning, and for a moment he looked +rather grave. + +``Well,'' he said, smiling, ``if I'm +found in the road some day, you'll know +who did it.'' + +I shook my head. ``Oh, no; he isn't +that bad.'' + +``I don't know,'' said Marston. + + +The smoke of the young engineer's coke +ovens lay far below us and the Blight had +never seen a coke-plant before. It looked +like Hades even in the early dusk--the +snake-like coil of fiery ovens stretching up +the long, deep ravine, and the smoke- +streaked clouds of fire, trailing like a +yellow mist over them, with a fierce white +blast shooting up here and there when the +lid of an oven was raised, as though to add +fresh temperature to some particular male- +factor in some particular chamber of torment. +Humanity about was joyous, however. +Laughter and banter and song came +from the cabins that lined the big ravine +and the little ravines opening into it. A +banjo tinkled at the entrance of ``Possum +Trot,'' sacred to the darkies. We moved +toward it. On the stoop sat an ecstatic +picker and in the dust shuffled three +pickaninnies--one boy and two girls--the +youngest not five years old. The crowd +that was gathered about them gave way +respectfully as we drew near; the little +darkies showed their white teeth in jolly +grins, and their feet shook the dust in +happy competition. I showered a few +coins for the Blight and on we went--into +the mouth of the many-peaked Gap. The +night train was coming in and everybody +had a smile of welcome for the Blight-- +post-office assistant, drug clerk, soda-water +boy, telegraph operator, hostler, who came +for the mules--and when tired, but happy, +she slipped from her saddle to the ground, +she then and there gave me what she +usually reserves for Christmas morning, +and that, too, while Marston was looking +on. Over her shoulder I smiled at him. + + +That night Marston and the Blight sat +under the vines on the porch until the late +moon rose over Wallens Ridge, and, when +bedtime came, the Blight said impatiently +that she did not want to go home. She +had to go, however, next day, but on the +next Fourth of July she would surely come +again; and, as the young engineer mounted +his horse and set his face toward Black +Mountain, I knew that until that day, for +him, a blight would still be in the hills. + + + + + +V + +BACK TO THE HILLS + +Winter drew a gray veil over the +mountains, wove into it tiny +jewels of frost and turned it many times +into a mask of snow, before spring broke +again among them and in Marston's +impatient heart. No spring had ever been +like that to him. The coming of young +leaves and flowers and bird-song meant but +one joy for the hills to him--the Blight +was coming back to them. All those weary +waiting months he had clung grimly to his +work. He must have heard from her +sometimes, else I think he would have gone +to her; but I knew the Blight's pen was +reluctant and casual for anybody, and, +moreover, she was having a strenuous winter at +home. That he knew as well, for he took +one paper, at least, that he might simply +read her name. He saw accounts of her +many social doings as well, and ate his +heart out as lovers have done for all time +gone and will do for all time to come. + +I, too, was away all winter, but I got +back a month before the Blight, to learn +much of interest that had come about. +The Hon. Samuel Budd had ear-wagged +himself into the legislature, had moved +that Court-House, and was going to be +State Senator. The Wild Dog had confined +his reckless career to his own hills +through the winter, but when spring came, +migratory-like, he began to take frequent +wing to the Gap. So far, he and Marston +had never come into personal conflict, +though Marston kept ever ready for him, +and several times they had met in the road, +eyed each other in passing and made no +hipward gesture at all. But then Marston +had never met him when the Wild Dog was +drunk--and when sober, I took it that the +one act of kindness from the engineer +always stayed his hand. But the Police +Guard at the Gap saw him quite often-- +and to it he was a fearful and elusive +nuisance. He seemed to be staying +somewhere within a radius of ten miles, for +every night or two he would circle about +the town, yelling and firing his pistol, and +when we chased him, escaping through the +Gap or up the valley or down in Lee. +Many plans were laid to catch him, but all +failed, and finally he came in one day and +gave himself up and paid his fines. Afterward +I recalled that the time of this +gracious surrender to law and order was +but little subsequent to one morning when +a woman who brought butter and eggs to +my little sister casually asked when that +``purty slim little gal with the snappin' +black eyes was a-comin' back.'' And the +little sister, pleased with the remembrance, +had said cordially that she was coming +soon. + +Thereafter the Wild Dog was in town +every day, and he behaved well until one +Saturday he got drunk again, and this +time, by a peculiar chance, it was Marston +again who leaped on him, wrenched his +pistol away, and put him in the calaboose. +Again he paid his fine, promptly visited a +``blind Tiger,'' came back to town, emptied +another pistol at Marston on sight and fled +for the hills. + +The enraged guard chased him for two +days and from that day the Wild Dog was +a marked man. The Guard wanted many +men, but if they could have had their +choice they would have picked out of the +world of malefactors that same Wild Dog. + +Why all this should have thrown the +Hon. Samuel Budd into such gloom I could +not understand--except that the Wild Dog +had been so loyal a henchman to him in +politics, but later I learned a better reason, +that threatened to cost the Hon. Sam much +more than the fines that, as I later learned, +he had been paying for his mountain +friend. + +Meanwhile, the Blight was coming from +her Northern home through the green lowlands +of Jersey, the fat pastures of Maryland, +and, as the white dresses of schoolgirls +and the shining faces of darkies thickened +at the stations, she knew that she was +getting southward. All the way she was +known and welcomed, and next morning +she awoke with the keen air of the distant +mountains in her nostrils and an expectant +light in her happy eyes. At least the light +was there when she stepped daintily from +the dusty train and it leaped a little, I +fancied, when Marston, bronzed and flushed, +held out his sunburnt hand. Like a convent +girl she babbled questions to the little +sister as the dummy puffed along and she +bubbled like wine over the midsummer +glory of the hills. And well she might, for +the glory of the mountains, full-leafed, +shrouded in evening shadows, blue-veiled +in the distance, was unspeakable, and +through the Gap the sun was sending his +last rays as though he, too, meant to take a +peep at her before he started around the +world to welcome her next day. And she +must know everything at once. The +anniversary of the Great Day on which all men +were pronounced free and equal was only +ten days distant and preparations were +going on. There would be a big crowd of +mountaineers and there would be sports +of all kinds, and games, but the tournament +was to be the feature of the day. + +``A tournament?'' ``Yes, a tournament,'' +repeated the little sister, and Marston was +going to ride and the mean thing would +not tell what mediaeval name he meant to +take. And the Hon. Sam Budd--did the +Blight remember him? (Indeed, she did) +--had a ``dark horse,'' and he had bet +heavily that his dark horse would win +the tournament--whereat the little sister +looked at Marston and at the Blight and +smiled disdainfully. And the Wild Dog-- +DID she remember him? I checked the +sister here with a glance, for Marston +looked uncomfortable and the Blight saw +me do it, and on the point of saying +something she checked herself, and her face, I +thought, paled a little. + +That night I learned why--when she +came in from the porch after Marston was +gone. I saw she had wormed enough of +the story out of him to worry her, for her +face this time was distinctly pale. I would +tell her no more than she knew, however, +and then she said she was sure she had seen +the Wild Dog herself that afternoon, +sitting on his horse in the bushes near a +station in Wildcat Valley. She was sure +that he saw her, and his face had +frightened her. I knew her fright was for +Marston and not for herself, so I laughed +at her fears. She was mistaken--Wild +Dog was an outlaw now and he would not +dare appear at the Gap, and there was no +chance that he could harm her or Marston. +And yet I was uneasy. + +It must have been a happy ten days for +those two young people. Every afternoon +Marston would come in from the mines +and they would go off horseback together, +over ground that I well knew--for I had +been all over it myself--up through the +gray-peaked rhododendron-bordered Gap +with the swirling water below them and the +gray rock high above where another such +foolish lover lost his life, climbing to get +a flower for his sweetheart, or down the +winding dirt road into Lee, or up through +the beech woods behind Imboden Hill, or +climbing the spur of Morris's Farm to +watch the sunset over the majestic Big +Black Mountains, where the Wild Dog +lived, and back through the fragrant, cool, +moonlit woods. He was doing his best, +Marston was, and he was having trouble +--as every man should. And that trouble +I knew even better than he, for I had once +known a Southern girl who was so tender +of heart that she could refuse no man who +really loved her she accepted him and +sent him to her father, who did all of her +refusing for her. And I knew no man +would know that he had won the Blight +until he had her at the altar and the priestly +hand of benediction was above her head. + +Of such kind was the Blight. Every +night when they came in I could read the +story of the day, always in his face and +sometimes in hers; and it was a series of +ups and downs that must have wrung the +boy's heart bloodless. Still I was in good +hope for him, until the crisis came on the +night before the Fourth. The quarrel was +as plain as though typewritten on the face +of each. Marston would not come in that +night and the Blight went dinnerless to bed +and cried herself to sleep. She told the +little sister that she had seen the Wild Dog +again peering through the bushes, and that +she was frightened. That was her +explanation--but I guessed a better one. + + + + + +VI + +THE GREAT DAY + +It was a day to make glad the heart of +slave or freeman. The earth was cool +from a night-long rain, and a gentle breeze +fanned coolness from the north all day +long. The clouds were snow-white, tumbling, +ever-moving, and between them the +sky showed blue and deep. Grass, leaf, +weed and flower were in the richness that +comes to the green things of the earth just +before that full tide of summer whose +foam is drifting thistle down. The air was +clear and the mountains seemed to have +brushed the haze from their faces and +drawn nearer that they, too, might better +see the doings of that day. + +From the four winds of heaven, that +morning, came the brave and the free. Up +from Lee, down from Little Stone Gap, +and from over in Scott, came the valley- +farmers--horseback, in buggies, hacks, +two-horse wagons, with wives, mothers, +sisters, sweethearts, in white dresses, +flowered hats, and many ribbons, and +with dinner-baskets stuffed with good +things to eat--old ham, young chicken, +angel-cake and blackberry wine--to be +spread in the sunless shade of great +poplar and oak. From Bum Hollow +and Wildcat Valley and from up the +slopes that lead to Cracker's Neck came +smaller tillers of the soil--as yet but +faintly marked by the gewgaw trappings +of the outer world; while from beyond +High Knob, whose crown is in cloud-land, +and through the Gap, came the mountaineer +in the primitive simplicity of home +spun and cowhide, wide-brimmed hat and +poke-bonnet, quaint speech, and slouching +gait. Through the Gap he came in two +streams--the Virginians from Crab Orchard +and Wise and Dickinson, the Kentuckians +from Letcher and feudal Harlan, +beyond the Big Black--and not a man +carried a weapon in sight, for the stern +spirit of that Police Guard at the Gap +was respected wide and far. Into the +town, which sits on a plateau some twenty +feet above the level of the two rivers that +all but encircle it, they poured, hitching +their horses in the strip of woods that runs +through the heart of the place, and broad +ens into a primeval park that, fan-like, +opens on the oval level field where all +things happen on the Fourth of July. +About the street they loitered--lovers hand +in hand--eating fruit and candy and drinking +soda-water, or sat on the curb-stone, +mothers with babies at their breasts and +toddling children clinging close--all +waiting for the celebration to begin. + +It was a great day for the Hon. Samuel +Budd. With a cheery smile and beaming +goggles, he moved among his constituents, +joking with yokels, saying nice things to +mothers, paying gallantries to girls, and +chucking babies under the chin. He felt +popular and he was--so popular that he +had begun to see himself with prophetic eye +in a congressional seat at no distant day; +and yet, withal, he was not wholly happy. + +``Do you know,'' he said, ``them fellers +I made bets with in the tournament got together +this morning and decided, all of 'em, +that they wouldn't let me off? Jerusalem, +it's most five hundred dollars!'' And, +looking the picture of dismay, he told me +his dilemma. +It seems that his ``dark horse'' was +none other than the Wild Dog, who had +been practising at home for this tournament +for nearly a year; and now that the +Wild Dog was an outlaw, he, of course, +wouldn't and couldn't come to the Gap. +And said the Hon. Sam Budd: + +``Them fellers says I bet I'd BRING IN a +dark horse who would win this tournament, +and if I don't BRING him in, I lose just the +same as though I had brought him in and +he hadn't won. An' I reckon they've got +me.'' + +``I guess they have.'' + +``It would have been like pickin' money +off a blackberry-bush, for I was goin' to let +the Wild Dog have that black horse o' +mine--the steadiest and fastest runner in +this country--and my, how that fellow can +pick off the rings! He's been a-practising +for a year, and I believe he could run the +point o' that spear of his through a lady's +finger-ring.'' + +``You'd better get somebody else.'' + +``Ah--that's it. The Wild Dog sent +word he'd send over another feller, named +Dave Branham, who has been practising +with him, who's just as good, he says, as he +is. I'm looking for him at twelve o'clock, +an' I'm goin' to take him down an' see +what he can do on that black horse o' mine. +But if he's no good, I lose five hundred, +all right,'' and he sloped away to his duties. +For it was the Hon. Sam who was master +of ceremonies that day. He was due now +to read the Declaration of Independence in +a poplar grove to all who would listen; he +was to act as umpire at the championship +base-ball game in the afternoon, and he +was to give the ``Charge'' to the assembled +knights before the tournament. + +At ten o'clock the games began--and I +took the Blight and the little sister down +to the ``grandstand''--several tiers of +backless benches with leaves for a canopy +and the river singing through rhododendrons +behind. There was jumping broad +and high, and a 100-yard dash and hurdling +and throwing the hammer, which the +Blight said were not interesting--they +were too much like college sports--and she +wanted to see the base-ball game and the +tournament. And yet Marston was in +them all--dogged and resistless--his teeth +set and his eyes anywhere but lifted toward +the Blight, who secretly proud, as I believed, +but openly defiant, mentioned not +his name even when he lost, which was +twice only. + +``Pretty good, isn't he?'' I said. + +``Who?'' she said indifferently. + +``Oh, nobody,'' I said, turning to smile, +but not turning quickly enough. + +``What's the matter with you?'' asked +the Blight sharply. + +``Nothing, nothing at all,'' I said, and +straightway the Blight thought she wanted +to go home. The thunder of the Declaration +was still rumbling in the poplar grove. + +``That's the Hon. Sam Budd,'' I said. + +``Don't you want to hear him?'' + +``I don't care who it is and I don't +want to hear him and I think you are +hateful.'' + +Ah, dear me, it was more serious than I +thought. There were tears in her eyes, and +I led the Blight and the little sister home-- +conscience-stricken and humbled. Still I +would find that young jackanapes of an +engineer and let him know that anybody who +made the Blight unhappy must deal with +me. I would take him by the neck and +pound some sense into him. I found him +lofty, uncommunicative, perfectly alien to +any consciousness that I could have any +knowledge of what was going or any right +to poke my nose into anybody's business-- +and I did nothing except go back to lunch +--to find the Blight upstairs and the little +sister indignant with me. + +``You just let them alone,'' she said severely. + +``Let who alone?'' I said, lapsing into +the speech of childhood. + +``You--just--let--them--alone,'' she +repeated. + +``I've already made up my mind to +that.'' + +``Well, then!'' she said, with an air of +satisfaction, but why I don't know. + +I went back to the poplar grove. The +Declaration was over and the crowd was +gone, but there was the Hon. Samuel +Budd, mopping his brow with one hand, +slapping his thigh with the other, and all +but executing a pigeon-wing on the turf. +He turned goggles on me that literally +shone triumph. + +``He's come--Dave Branham's come!'' +he said. ``He's better than the Wild Dog. +I've been trying him on the black horse +and, Lord, how he can take them rings off! +Ha, won't I get into them fellows who +wouldn't let me off this morning! Oh, yes, +I agreed to bring in a dark horse, and I'll +bring him in all right. That five hundred +is in my clothes now. You see that point +yonder? Well, there's a hollow there and +bushes all around. That's where I'm going +to dress him. I've got his clothes all +right and a name for him. This thing +is a-goin' to come off accordin' to Hoyle, +Ivanhoe, Four-Quarters-of-Beef, and all +them mediaeval fellows. Just watch me!'' + +I began to get newly interested, for that +knight's name I suddenly recalled. Little +Buck, the Wild Dog's brother, had +mentioned him, when we were over in the +Kentucky hills, as practising with the Wild +Dog--as being ``mighty good, but nowhar +'longside o' Mart.'' So the Hon. Sam +might have a good substitute, after all, and +being a devoted disciple of Sir Walter, I +knew his knight would rival, in splendor, +at least, any that rode with King Arthur +in days of old. + +The Blight was very quiet at lunch, as +was the little sister, and my effort to be +jocose was a lamentable failure. So I gave +news. + +``The Hon. Sam has a substitute.'' No +curiosity and no question. + +``Who--did you say? Why, Dave +Branham, a friend of the Wild Dog. +Don't you remember Buck telling us about +him?'' No answer. ``Well, I do--and, +by the way, I saw Buck and one of the big +sisters just a while ago. Her name is +Mollie. Dave Branham, you will recall, is +her sweetheart. The other big sister had +to stay at home with her mother and little +Cindy, who's sick. Of course, I didn't ask +them about Mart--the Wild Dog. They +knew I knew and they wouldn't have liked +it. The Wild Dog's around, I understand, +but he won't dare show his face. Every +policeman in town is on the lookout for +him.'' I thought the Blight's face showed +a signal of relief. + +``I'm going to play short-stop,'' I added. + +``Oh!'' said the Blight, with a smile, +but the little sister said with some scorn: + +``You!'' + +``I'll show you,'' I said, and I told the +Blight about base-ball at the Gap. We +had introduced base-ball into the region +and the valley boys and mountain boys, +being swift runners, throwing like a rifle +shot from constant practice with stones, +and being hard as nails, caught the game +quickly and with great ease. We beat them +all the time at first, but now they were +beginning to beat us. We had a league +now, and this was the championship game +for the pennant. + +``It was right funny the first time we +beat a native team. Of course, we got +together and cheered 'em. They thought we +were cheering ourselves, so they got red in +the face, rushed together and whooped it +up for themselves for about half an hour.'' + +The Blight almost laughed. + +``We used to have to carry our guns +around with us at first when we went to +other places, and we came near having +several fights.'' + +``Oh!'' said the Blight excitedly. ``Do +you think there might be a fight this afternoon?'' + +``Don't know,'' I said, shaking my head. +``It's pretty hard for eighteen people to +fight when nine of them are policemen and +there are forty more around. Still the +crowd might take a hand.'' + +This, I saw, quite thrilled the Blight and +she was in good spirits when we started out. + +``Marston doesn't pitch this afternoon,'' +I said to the little sister. ``He plays first +base. He's saving himself for the +tournament. He's done too much already.'' +The Blight merely turned her head while I +was speaking. ``And the Hon. Sam will +not act as umpire. He wants to save his +voice--and his head.'' + +The seats in the ``grandstand'' were in +the sun now, so I left the girls in a +deserted band-stand that stood on stilts under +trees on the southern side of the field, and +on a line midway between third base and +the position of short-stop. Now there is +no enthusiasm in any sport that equals the +excitement aroused by a rural base-ball +game and I never saw the enthusiasm of +that game outdone except by the excitement +of the tournament that followed that afternoon. +The game was close and Marston +and I assuredly were stars--Marston one +of the first magnitude. ``Goose-egg'' on +one side matched ``goose-egg'' on the +other until the end of the fifth inning, when +the engineer knocked a home-run. Spectators +threw their hats into the trees, yelled +themselves hoarse, and I saw several old +mountaineers who understood no more of +base-ball than of the lost _digamma_ in Greek +going wild with the general contagion. +During these innings I had ``assisted'' in +two doubles and had fired in three ``daisy +cutters'' to first myself in spite of the +guying I got from the opposing rooters. + +``Four-eyes'' they called me on account of +my spectacles until a new nickname came +at the last half of the ninth inning, +when we were in the field with the score +four to three in our favor. It was then +that a small, fat boy with a paper megaphone +longer than he was waddled out +almost to first base and levelling his +trumpet at me, thundered out in a sudden +silence: + +``Hello, Foxy Grandpa!'' That was +too much. I got rattled, and when there +were three men on bases and two out, a +swift grounder came to me, I fell--catching +it--and threw wildly to first from my +knees. I heard shouts of horror, anger, +and distress from everywhere and my own +heart stopped beating--I had lost the +game--and then Marston leaped in the +air--surely it must have been four feet-- +caught the ball with his left hand and +dropped back on the bag. The sound of +his foot on it and the runner's was almost +simultaneous, but the umpire said Marston's +was there first. Then bedlam! One +of my brothers was umpire and the captain +of the other team walked threateningly +out toward him, followed by two of +his men with base-ball bats. As I started +off myself towards them I saw, with the +corner of my eye, another brother of mine +start in a run from the left field, and I +wondered why a third, who was scoring, +sat perfectly still in his chair, particularly +as a well-known, red-headed tough from +one of the mines who had been officiously +antagonistic ran toward the pitcher's box +directly in front of him. Instantly a dozen +of the guard sprang toward it, some man +pulled his pistol, a billy cracked straightway +on his head, and in a few minutes +order was restored. And still the brother +scoring hadn't moved from his chair, and +I spoke to him hotly. + +``Keep your shirt on,'' he said easily, +lifting his score-card with his left hand and +showing his right clinched about his pistol +under it. + +``I was just waiting for that red-head to +make a move. I guess I'd have got him +first.'' + +I walked back to the Blight and the +little sister and both of them looked very +serious and frightened. + +``I don't think I want to see a real fight, +after all,'' said the Blight. ``Not this +afternoon.'' + +It was a little singular and prophetic, +but just as the words left her lips one of +the Police Guard handed me a piece of +paper. + +``Somebody in the crowd must have +dropped it in my pocket,'' he said. On the +paper were scrawled these words: + +``_Look out for the Wild Dog!_'' + +I sent the paper to Marston. + + + + + +VII + +AT LAST--THE TOURNAMENT + +At last--the tournament! +Ever afterward the Hon. Samuel +Budd called it ``The Gentle and +Joyous Passage of Arms--not of Ashby-- +but of the Gap, by-suh!'' The Hon. +Samuel had arranged it as nearly after Sir +Walter as possible. And a sudden leap it +was from the most modern of games to a +game most ancient. + +No knights of old ever jousted on a +lovelier field than the green little valley toward +which the Hon. Sam waved one big hand. +It was level, shorn of weeds, elliptical +in shape, and bound in by trees that ran +in a semicircle around the bank of the river, +shut in the southern border, and ran back +to the northern extremity in a primeval +little forest that wood-thrushes, even then, +were making musical--all of it shut in by +a wall of living green, save for one narrow +space through which the knights were to +enter. In front waved Wallens' leafy +ridge and behind rose the Cumberland +Range shouldering itself spur by spur, into +the coming sunset and crashing eastward +into the mighty bulk of Powell's Mountain, +which loomed southward from the +head of the valley--all nodding sunny +plumes of chestnut. + +The Hon. Sam had seen us coming from +afar apparently, had come forward to meet +us, and he was in high spirits. + +``I am Prince John and Waldemar and +all the rest of 'em this day,'' he said, ``and +`it is thus,' '' quoting Sir Walter, ``that +we set the dutiful example of loyalty to the +Queen of Love and Beauty, and are ourselves +her guide to the throne which she +must this day occupy.'' And so saying, +the Hon. Sam marshalled the Blight to a +seat of honor next his own. + +``And how do you know she is going to +be the Queen of Love and Beauty?'' asked +the little sister. The Hon. Sam winked at +me. + +``Well, this tournament lies between +two gallant knights. One will make her +the Queen of his own accord, if he wins, +and if the other wins, he's got to, or I'll +break his head. I've given orders.'' And +the Hon. Sam looked about right and left +on the people who were his that day. + +``Observe the nobles and ladies,'' he +said, still following Sir Walter, and waving +at the towns-people and visitors in the +rude grandstand. ``Observe the yeomanry +and spectators of a better degree +than the mere vulgar''--waving at the +crowd on either side of the stand--``and +the promiscuous multitude down the river +banks and over the woods and clinging to +the tree-tops and to yon telegraph-pole. +And there is my herald''--pointing to the +cornetist of the local band--``and wait-- +by my halidom--please just wait until you +see my knight on that black charger o' +mine.'' + +The Blight and the little sister were +convulsed and the Hon. Sam went on: + +``Look at my men-at-arms''--the +volunteer policemen with bulging hip-pockets, +dangling billies and gleaming shields of +office--``and at my refreshment tents behind'' +--where peanuts and pink lemonade +were keeping the multitude busy--``and +my attendants''--colored gentlemen with +sponges and water-buckets--``the armorers +and farriers haven't come yet. But my +knight--I got his clothes in New York-- +just wait--Love of Ladies and Glory to +the Brave!'' Just then there was a +commotion on the free seats on one side of +the grandstand. A darky starting, in all +ignorance, to mount them was stopped and +jostled none too good-naturedly back to the +ground. + +``And see,'' mused the Hon. Sam, ``in +lieu of the dog of an unbeliever we have a +dark analogy in that son of Ham.'' + +The little sister plucked me by the sleeve +and pointed toward the entrance. Outside +and leaning on the fence were Mollie, the +big sister, and little Buck. Straightway I +got up and started for them. They hung +back, but I persuaded them to come, and +I led them to seats two tiers below the +Blight--who, with my little sister, rose +smiling to greet them and shake hands-- +much to the wonder of the nobles and +ladies close about, for Mollie was in brave +and dazzling array, blushing fiercely, and +little Buck looked as though he would die +of such conspicuousness. No embarrassing +questions were asked about Mart or +Dave Branham, but I noticed that Mollie +had purple and crimson ribbons clinched +in one brown hand. The purpose of +them was plain, and I whispered to the +Blight: + +``She's going to pin them on Dave's +lance.'' The Hon. Sam heard me. + +``Not on your life,'' he said +emphatically. ``I ain't takin' chances,'' and he +nodded toward the Blight. ``She's got to +win, no matter who loses.'' He rose to his +feet suddenly. + +``Glory to the Brave--they're comin'! +Toot that horn, son,'' he said; ``they're +comin','' and the band burst into +discordant sounds that would have made the +``wild barbaric music'' on the field of +Ashby sound like a lullaby. The Blight +stifled her laughter over that amazing +music with her handkerchief, and even the +Hon. Sam scowled. + +``Gee!'' he said; ``it is pretty bad, isn't +it?'' + +``Here they come!'' + +The nobles and ladies on the +grandstand, the yeomanry and spectators of +better degree, and the promiscuous multitude +began to sway expectantly and over the hill +came the knights, single file, gorgeous in +velvets and in caps, with waving plumes +and with polished spears, vertical, resting +on the right stirrup foot and gleaming in +the sun. + +``A goodly array!'' murmured the +Hon. Sam. + +A crowd of small boys gathered at the +fence below, and I observed the Hon. +Sam's pockets bulging with peanuts. + +``Largesse!'' I suggested. + +``Good!'' he said, and rising he +shouted: + +``Largessy! largessy!'' scattering +peanuts by the handful among the scrambling +urchins. + +Down wound the knights behind the +back stand of the base-ball field, and then, +single file, in front of the nobles and ladies, +before whom they drew up and faced, +saluting with inverted spears. + +The Hon. Sam arose--his truncheon a +hickory stick--and in a stentorian voice +asked the names of the doughty knights +who were there to win glory for themselves +and the favor of fair women. + +Not all will be mentioned, but among +them was the Knight of the Holston-- +Athelstanic in build--in black stockings, +white negligee shirt, with Byronic collar, +and a broad crimson sash tied with a +bow at his right side. There was the +Knight of the Green Valley, in green +and gold, a green hat with a long white +plume, lace ruffles at his sleeves, and +buckles on dancing-pumps; a bonny fat +knight of Maxwelton Braes, in Highland +kilts and a plaid; and the Knight at +Large. + +``He ought to be caged,'' murmured the +Hon. Sam; for the Knight at Large wore +plum-colored velvet, red base-ball stockings, +held in place with safety-pins, white +tennis shoes, and a very small hat with a +very long plume, and the dye was already +streaking his face. Marston was the last +--sitting easily on his iron gray. + +``And your name, Sir Knight?'' + +``The Discarded,'' said Marston, with +steady eyes. I felt the Blight start at my +side and sidewise I saw that her face was +crimson. + +The Hon. Sam sat down, muttering, for +he did not like Marston: + +``Wenchless springal!'' + +Just then my attention was riveted on +Mollie and little Buck. Both had been +staring silently at the knights as though +they were apparitions, but when Marston +faced them I saw Buck clutch his sister's +arm suddenly and say something excitedly +in her ear. Then the mouths of both tightened +fiercely and their eyes seemed to be +darting lightning at the unconscious knight, +who suddenly saw them, recognized them, +and smiled past them at me. Again Buck +whispered, and from his lips I could make +out what he said: + +``I wonder whar's Dave?'' but Mollie +did not answer. + +``Which is yours, Mr. Budd?'' asked +the little sister. The Hon. Sam had +leaned back with his thumbs in the arm- +holes of his white waistcoat. + +``He ain't come yet. I told him to come +last.'' + +The crowd waited and the knights +waited--so long that the Mayor rose in his +seat some twenty feet away and called out: + +``Go ahead, Budd.'' + +``You jus' wait a minute--my man +ain't come yet,'' he said easily, but from +various places in the crowd came jeering +shouts from the men with whom he had +wagered and the Hon. Sam began to look +anxious. + +``I wonder what is the matter?'' he +added in a lower tone. ``I dressed him +myself more than an hour ago and I told +him to come last, but I didn't mean for +him to wait till Christmas--ah!'' + +The Hon. Sam sank back in his seat +again. From somewhere had come suddenly +the blare of a solitary trumpet that +rang in echoes around the amphitheatre of +the hills and, a moment later, a dazzling +something shot into sight above the mound +that looked like a ball of fire, coming in +mid-air. The new knight wore a shining +helmet and the Hon. Sam chuckled at the +murmur that rose and then he sat up +suddenly. There was no face under +that helmet--the Hon. Sam's knight was +MASKED and the Hon. Sam slapped his +thigh with delight. + +``Bully--bully! I never thought of it +--I never thought of it--bully!'' + +This was thrilling, indeed--but there +was more; the strange knight's body was +cased in a flexible suit of glistening mail, +his spear point, when he raised it on high, +shone like silver, and he came on like a +radiant star--on the Hon. Sam's charger, +white-bridled, with long mane and tail and +black from tip of nose to tip of that tail +as midnight. The Hon. Sam was certainly +doing it well. At a slow walk the stranger +drew alongside of Marston and turned his +spear point downward. + +``Gawd!'' said an old darky. ``Ku- +klux done come again.'' And, indeed, it +looked like a Ku-klux mask, white, +dropping below the chin, and with eye- +holes through which gleamed two bright +fires. + +The eyes of Buck and Mollie were +turned from Marston at last, and open- +mouthed they stared. + +``Hit's the same hoss--hit's Dave!'' +said Buck aloud. + +``Well, my Lord!'' said Mollie simply. + +The Hon. Sam rose again. + +``And who is Sir Tardy Knight that +hither comes with masked face?'' he asked +courteously. He got no answer. + +``What's your name, son?'' + +The white mask puffed at the wearer's +lips. + +``The Knight of the Cumberland,'' was +the low, muffled reply. + +``Make him take that thing off!'' +shouted some one. + +``What's he got it on fer?'' shouted +another. + +``I don't know, friend,'' said the Hon. +Sam; ``but it is not my business nor prithee +thine; since by the laws of the tournament +a knight may ride masked for a specified +time or until a particular purpose is +achieved, that purpose being, I wot, victory +for himself and for me a handful of +byzants from thee.'' + +``Now, go ahead, Budd,'' called the +Mayor again. ``Are you going crazy?'' + +The Hon. Sam stretched out his arms +once to loosen them for gesture, thrust +his chest out, and uplifted his chin: ``Fair +ladies, nobles of the realm, and good +knights,'' he said sonorously, and he raised +one hand to his mouth and behind it spoke +aside to me: + +``How's my voice--how's my voice?'' + +``Great!'' +His question was genuine, for the mask +of humor had dropped and the man was +transformed. I knew his inner seriousness, +his oratorical command of good English, +and I knew the habit, not uncommon +among stump-speakers in the South, of +falling, through humor, carelessness, or for +the effect of flattering comradeship, into +all the lingual sins of rural speech; but I +was hardly prepared for the soaring flight +the Hon. Sam took now. He started with +one finger pointed heavenward: + + ``The knights are dust + And their good swords are rast; + Their souls are with the saints, we trust. + + +``Scepticism is but a harmless phantom +in these mighty hills. We BELIEVE that with +the saints is the GOOD knight's soul, and if, +in the radiant unknown, the eyes of those +who have gone before can pierce the little +shadow that lies between, we know that the +good knights of old look gladly down on +these good knights of to-day. For it is +good to be remembered. The tireless +struggle for name and fame since the sunrise +of history attests it; and the ancestry +worship in the East and the world-wide +hope of immortality show the fierce hunger +in the human soul that the memory of it +not only shall not perish from this earth, +but that, across the Great Divide, it shall +live on--neither forgetting nor forgotten. +You are here in memory of those good +knights to prove that the age of chivalry +is not gone; that though their good swords +are rust, the stainless soul of them still +illumines every harmless spear point before +me and makes it a torch that shall reveal, +in your own hearts still aflame, their +courage, their chivalry, their sense of +protection for the weak, and the honor in +which they held pure women, brave men, +and almighty God. + +``The tournament, some say, goes back +to the walls of Troy. The form of it +passed with the windmills that Don +Quixote charged. It is with you to keep +the high spirit of it an ever-burning vestal +fire. It was a deadly play of old--it is a +harmless play to you this day. But the +prowess of the game is unchanged; for the +skill to strike those pendent rings is no less +than was the skill to strike armor-joint, +visor, or plumed crest. It was of old an +exercise for deadly combat on the field of +battle; it is no less an exercise now to you +for the field of life--for the quick eye, the +steady nerve, and the deft hand which shall +help you strike the mark at which, outside +these lists, you aim. And the crowning +triumph is still just what it was of old-- +that to the victor the Rose of his world-- +made by him the Queen of Love and +Beauty for us all--shall give her smile and +with her own hands place on his brow a +thornless crown.'' + +Perfect silence honored the Hon. Samuel +Budd. The Mayor was nodding vigorous +approval, the jeering ones kept still, +and when after the last deep-toned word +passed like music from his lips the silence +held sway for a little while before the +burst of applause came. Every knight had +straightened in his saddle and was looking +very grave. Marston's eyes never left the +speaker's face, except once, when they +turned with an unconscious appeal, I +thought, to the downcast face of Blight-- +whereat the sympathetic little sister seemed +close to tears. The Knight of the +Cumberland shifted in his saddle as though he +did not quite understand what was going +on, and once Mollie, seeing the eyes +through the mask-holes fixed on her, +blushed furiously, and little Buck grinned +back a delighted recognition. The Hon. +Sam sat down, visibly affected by his own +eloquence; slowly he wiped his face and +then he rose again. + +``Your colors, Sir Knights,'' he said, +with a commanding wave of his truncheon, +and one by one the knights spurred forward +and each held his lance into the +grandstand that some fair one might tie +thereon the colors he was to wear. Marston, +without looking at the Blight, held his +up to the little sister and the Blight +carelessly turned her face while the demure +sister was busy with her ribbons, but I noticed +that the little ear next to me was tingling +red for all her brave look of unconcern. +Only the Knight of the Cumberland sat +still. + +``What!'' said the Hon. Sam, rising to +his feet, his eyes twinkling and his mask +of humor on again; ``sees this masked +springal''--the Hon. Sam seemed much +enamored of that ancient word--``no maid +so fair that he will not beg from her the +boon of colors gay that he may carry them +to victory and receive from her hands a +wreath therefor?'' Again the Knight of +the Cumberland seemed not to know that +the Hon. Sam's winged words were meant +for him, so the statesman translated them +into a mutual vernacular. + +``Remember what I told you, son,'' he +said. ``Hold up yo' spear here to some +one of these gals jes' like the other fellows +are doin','' and as he sat down he tried +surreptitiously to indicate the Blight with +his index finger, but the knight failed to see +and the Blight's face was so indignant +and she rebuked him with such a knife-like +whisper that, humbled, the Hon. Sam collapsed +in his seat, muttering: + +``The fool don't know you--he don't +know you.'' + +For the Knight of the Cumberland had +turned the black horse's head and was riding, +like Ivanhoe, in front of the nobles +and ladies, his eyes burning up at them +through the holes in his white mask. +Again he turned, his mask still uplifted, and +the behavior of the beauties there, as on +the field of Ashby, was no whit changed: +``Some blushed, some assumed an air of +pride and dignity, some looked straight +forward and essayed to seem utterly +unconscious of what was going on, some drew +back in alarm which was perhaps affected, +some endeavored to forbear smiling and +there were two or three who laughed +outright.'' Only none ``dropped a veil over +her charms'' and thus none incurred the +suspicion, as on that field of Ashby, that +she was ``a beauty of ten years' standing'' +whose motive, gallant Sir Walter supposes +in defence, however, was doubtless ``a +surfeit of such vanities and a willingness +to give a fair chance to the rising beauties +of the age.'' But the most conscious of the +fair was Mollie below, whose face was +flushed and whose brown fingers were +nervously twisting the ribbons in her lap, +and I saw Buck nudge her and heard him +whisper: + +``Dave ain't going to pick YOU out, I +tell ye. I heered Mr. Budd thar myself +tell him he HAD to pick out some other +gal.'' + +``You hush!'' said Mollie indignantly. + +It looked as though the Knight of the +Cumberland had grown rebellious and +meant to choose whom he pleased, but on +his way back the Hon. Sam must have +given more surreptitious signs, for the +Knight of the Cumberland reined in before +the Blight and held up his lance to her. +Straightway the colors that were meant for +Marston fluttered from the Knight of the +Cumberland's spear. I saw Marston bite +his lips and I saw Mollie's face aflame with +fury and her eyes darting lightning--no +longer at Marston now, but at the Blight. +The mountain girl held nothing against the +city girl because of the Wild Dog's infatuation, +but that her own lover, no matter +what the Hon. Sam said, should give his +homage also to the Blight, in her own +presence, was too much. Mollie looked +around no more. Again the Hon. Sam +rose. + +``Love of ladies,'' he shouted, +``splintering of lances! Stand forth, gallant +knights. Fair eyes look upon your deeds! +Toot again, son!'' + +Now just opposite the grandstand was a +post some ten feet high, with a small beam +projecting from the top toward the spectators. +From the end of this hung a wire, +the end of which was slightly upturned in +line with the course, and on the tip of this +wire a steel ring about an inch in diameter +hung lightly. Nearly forty yards below +this was a similar ring similarly arranged; +and at a similar distance below that was +still another, and at the blast from the +Hon. Sam's herald, the gallant knights +rode slowly, two by two, down the lists to +the western extremity--the Discarded +Knight and the Knight of the Cumberland, +stirrup to stirrup, riding last--where they +all drew up in line, some fifty yards beyond +the westernmost post. This distance +they took that full speed might be attained +before jousting at the first ring, since the +course--much over one hundred yards long +--must be covered in seven seconds or less, +which was no slow rate of speed. The +Hon. Sam arose again: + +``The Knight of the Holston!'' + +Farther down the lists a herald took up +the same cry and the good knight of +Athelstanic build backed his steed from the line +and took his place at the head of the +course. + +With his hickory truncheon the Hon. +Sam signed to his trumpeter to sound the +onset. + +``Now, son!'' he said. + +With the blare of the trumpet Athelstane +sprang from his place and came up +the course, his lance at rest; a tinkling +sound and the first ring slipped down the +knight's spear and when he swept past the +last post there was a clapping of hands, for +he held three rings triumphantly aloft. +And thus they came, one by one, until each +had run the course three times, the Discarded +jousting next to the last and the +Knight of the Cumberland, riding with a +reckless Cave, Adsum air, the very last. At +the second joust it was quite evident that +the victory lay between these two, as they +only had not lost a single ring, and when +the black horse thundered by, the Hon. Sam +shouted ``Brave lance!'' and jollied his +betting enemies, while Buck hugged himself +triumphantly and Mollie seemed temporarily +to lose her chagrin and anger in +pride of her lover, Dave. On the third +running the Knight of the Cumberland +excited a sensation by sitting upright, +waving his lance up and down between the +posts and lowering it only when the ring +was within a few feet of its point. His +recklessness cost him one ring, but as the +Discarded had lost one, they were still +tied, with eight rings to the credit of each, +for the first prize. Only four others were +left--the Knight of the Holston and the +Knight of the Green Valley tying with +seven rings for second prize, and the fat +Maxwelton Braes and the Knight at Large +tying with six rings for the third. The +crowd was eager now and the Hon. Sam +confident. On came the Knight at Large, +his face a rainbow, his plume wilted and +one red base-ball stocking slipped from its +moorings--two rings! On followed the fat +Maxwelton, his plaid streaming and his kilts +flapping about his fat legs--also two rings! + +``Egad!'' quoth the Hon. Sam. ``Did +yon lusty trencherman of Annie Laurie's +but put a few more layers of goodly flesh +about his ribs, thereby projecting more his +frontal Falstaffian proportions, by my halidom, +he would have to joust tandem!'' + +On came Athelstane and the Knight of +the Green Valley, both with but two rings +to their credit, and on followed the +Discarded, riding easily, and the Knight of the +Cumberland again waving his lance between +the posts, each with three rings on +his spear. At the end the Knight at Large +stood third, Athelstane second, and the +Discarded and the Knight of the Cumberland +stood side by side at the head of the +course, still even, and now ready to end the +joust, for neither on the second trial had +missed a ring. + +The excitement was intense now. Many +people seemed to know who the Knight of +the Cumberland was, for there were shouts +of ``Go it, Dave!'' from everywhere; the +rivalry of class had entered the contest and +now it was a conflict between native and +``furriner.'' The Hon. Sam was almost +beside himself with excitement; now and +then some man with whom he had made +a bet would shout jeeringly at him and the +Hon. Sam would shout back defiance. But +when the trumpet sounded he sat leaning +forward with his brow wrinkled and his +big hands clinched tight. Marston sped +up the course first--three rings--and there +was a chorus of applauding yells. + +``His horse is gittin' tired,'' said the +Hon. Sam jubilantly, and the Blight's face, +I noticed, showed for the first time faint +traces of indignation. The Knight of the +Cumberland was taking no theatrical +chances now and he came through the +course with level spear and, with three +rings on it, he shot by like a thunderbolt. + +``Hooray!'' shouted the Hon. Sam. +``Lord, what a horse!'' For the first time +the Blight, I observed, failed to applaud, +while Mollie was clapping her hands and +Buck was giving out shrill yells of +encouragement. At the next tilt the Hon. +Sam had his watch in his hand and when +he saw the Discarded digging in his spurs +he began to smile and he was looking at +his watch when the little tinkle in front told +him that the course was run. + +``Did he get 'em all?'' + +``Yes, he got 'em all,'' mimicked the +Blight. + +``Yes, an' he just did make it,'' chuckled +the Hon. Sam. The Discarded had +wheeled his horse aside from the course to +watch his antagonist. He looked pale and +tired--almost as tired as his foam-covered +steed--but his teeth were set and his face +was unmoved as the Knight of the +Cumberland came on like a demon, sweeping +off the last ring with a low, rasping oath +of satisfaction. + +``I never seed Dave ride that-a-way +afore,'' said Mollie. + +``Me, neither,'' chimed in Buck. + +The nobles and ladies were waving +handkerchiefs, clapping hands, and shouting. +The spectators of better degree were +throwing up their hats and from every part +of the multitude the same hoarse shout of +encouragement rose: + +``Go it, Dave! Hooray for Dave!'' +while the boy on the telegraph-pole was +seen to clutch wildly at the crossbar on +which he sat--he had come near tumbling +from his perch. + +The two knights rode slowly back to the +head of the lists, where the Discarded +was seen to dismount and tighten his +girth. + +``He's tryin' to git time to rest,'' said +the Hon. Sam. ``Toot, son!'' + +``Shame!'' said the little sister and the +Blight both at once so severely that the +Hon. Sam quickly raised his hand. + +``Hold on,'' he said, and with hand still +uplifted he waited till Marston was +mounted again. ``Now!'' + +The Discarded came on, using his spurs +with every jump, the red of his horse's +nostrils showing that far away, and he swept +on, spearing off the rings with deadly +accuracy and holding the three aloft, but +having no need to pull in his panting steed, +who stopped of his own accord. Up went +a roar, but the Hon. Sam, covertly glancing +at his watch, still smiled. That watch he +pulled out when the Knight of the Cumberland +started and he smiled still when +he heard the black horse's swift, rhythmic +beat and he looked up only when that +knight, shouting to his horse, moved his +lance up and down before coming to the +last ring and, with a dare-devil yell, swept +it from the wire. + +``Tied--tied!'' was the shout; ``they've +got to try it again! they've got to try it +again!'' + +The Hon. Sam rose, with his watch in +one hand and stilling the tumult with the +other. Dead silence came at once. + +``I fear me,'' he said, ``that the good +knight, the Discarded, has failed to make +the course in the time required by the laws +of the tournament.'' Bedlam broke loose +again and the Hon. Sam waited, still +gesturing for silence. + +``Summon the time-keeper!'' he said. + +The time-keeper appeared from the +middle of the field and nodded. + +``Eight seconds!'' +``The Knight of the Cumberland wins,'' +said the Hon. Sam. + +The little sister, unconscious of her own +sad face, nudged me to look at the Blight +--there were tears in her eyes. + + +Before the grandstand the knights +slowly drew up again. Marston's horse +was so lame and tired that he dismounted +and let a darky boy lead him under the +shade of the trees. But he stood on foot +among the other knights, his arms folded, +worn out and vanquished, but taking his +bitter medicine like a man. I thought +the Blight's eyes looked pityingly upon +him. + +The Hon. Sam arose with a crown of +laurel leaves in his hand: + +``You have fairly and gallantly won, +Sir Knight of the Cumberland, and it is +now your right to claim and receive from +the hands of the Queen of Love and +Beauty the chaplet of honor which your +skill has justly deserved. Advance, Sir +Knight of the Cumberland, and dismount!'' + +The Knight of the Cumberland made no +move nor sound. + +``Get off yo' hoss, son,'' said the Hon. +Sam kindly, ``and get down on yo' knees +at the feet of them steps. This fair young +Queen is a-goin' to put this chaplet on your +shinin' brow. That horse'll stand.'' + +The Knight of the Cumberland, after a +moment's hesitation, threw his leg over the +saddle and came to the steps with a slouching +gait and looking about him right and +left. The Blight, blushing prettily, took +the chaplet and went down the steps to +meet him. + +``Unmask!'' I shouted. + +``Yes, son,'' said the Hon. Sam, ``take +that rag off.'' + +Then Mollie's voice, clear and loud, +startled the crowd. ``You better not, +Dave Branham, fer if you do and this +other gal puts that thing on you, you'll +never--'' What penalty she was going to +inflict, I don't know, for the Knight of the +Cumberland, half kneeling, sprang suddenly +to his feet and interrupted her. +``Wait a minute, will ye?'' he said almost +fiercely, and at the sound of his voice +Mollie rose to her feet and her face +blanched. + +``Lord God!'' she said almost in +anguish, and then she dropped quickly to her +seat again. + +The Knight of the Cumberland had +gone back to his horse as though to get +something from his saddle. Like lightning +he vaulted into the saddle, and as the black +horse sprang toward the opening tore his +mask from his face, turned in his stirrups, +and brandished his spear with a yell of +defiance, while a dozen voices shouted: + +``The Wild Dog!'' Then was there +an uproar. + +``Goddle mighty!'' shouted the Hon. +Sam. ``I didn't do it, I swear I didn't +know it. He's tricked me--he's tricked +me! Don't shoot--you might hit that +hoss!'' + +There was no doubt about the Hon. +Sam's innocence. Instead of turning over +an outlaw to the police, he had brought +him into the inner shrine of law and order +and he knew what a political asset for his +enemies that insult would be. And there +was no doubt of the innocence of Mollie +and Buck as they stood, Mollie wringing +her hands and Buck with open mouth and +startled face. There was no doubt about +the innocence of anybody other than Dave +Branham and the dare-devil Knight of the +Cumberland. + +Marston had clutched at the Wild Dog's +bridle and missed and the outlaw struck +savagely at him with his spear. Nobody +dared to shoot because of the scattering +crowd, but every knight and every mounted +policeman took out after the outlaw and +the beating of hoofs pounded over the +little mound and toward Poplar Hill. +Marston ran to his horse at the upper end, +threw his saddle on, and hesitated--there +were enough after the Wild Dog and his +horse was blown. He listened to the yells +and sounds of the chase encircling Poplar +Hill. The outlaw was making for Lee. +All at once the yells and hoof-beats seemed +to sound nearer and Marston listened, +astonished. The Wild Dog had wheeled +and was coming back; he was going to +make for the Gap, where sure safety lay. +Marston buckled his girth and as he sprang +on his horse, unconsciously taking his spear +with him, the Wild Dog dashed from the +trees at the far end of the field. As +Marston started the Wild Dog saw him, pulled +something that flashed from under his coat +of mail, thrust it back again, and brandishing +his spear, he came, full speed and +yelling, up the middle of the field. It was +a strange thing to happen in these modern +days, but Marston was an officer of the +law and was between the Wild Dog and +the Ford and liberty through the Gap, into +the hills. The Wild Dog was an outlaw. +It was Marston's duty to take him. + +The law does not prescribe with what +weapon the lawless shall be subdued, and +Marston's spear was the only weapon he +had. Moreover, the Wild Dog's yell was +a challenge that set his blood afire and +the girl both loved was looking on. The +crowd gathered the meaning of the joust-- +the knights were crashing toward each +other with spears at rest. There were a +few surprised oaths from men, a few low +cries from women, and then dead silence +in which the sound of hoofs on the hard +turf was like thunder. The Blight's face +was white and the little sister was gripping +my arm with both hands. A third horseman +shot into view out of the woods at +tight angles, to stop them, and it seemed +that the three horses must crash together +in a heap. With a moan the Blight buried +her face on my shoulder. She shivered +when the muffled thud of body against +body and the splintering of wood rent the +air; a chorus of shrieks arose about her, +and when she lifted her frightened face +Marston, the Discarded, was limp on the +ground, his horse was staggering to his +feet, and the Wild Dog was galloping past +her, his helmet gleaming, his eyes ablaze, +his teeth set, the handle of his broken +spear clinched in his right hand, and blood +streaming down the shoulder of the black +horse. She heard the shots that were sent +after him, she heard him plunge into the +river, and then she saw and heard no +more. + + + + + +VIII + +THE KNIGHT PASSES + +A telegram summoned the Blight +a home next day. Marston was in +bed with a ragged wound in the shoulder, +and I took her to tell him good-by. I left +the room for a few minutes, and when I +came back their hands were unclasping, and +for a Discarded Knight the engineer surely +wore a happy though pallid face. + +That afternoon the train on which we +left the Gap was brought to a sudden halt +in Wildcat Valley by a piece of red flannel +tied to the end of a stick that was +planted midway the track. Across the +track, farther on, lay a heavy piece of +timber, and it was plain that somebody +meant that, just at that place, the train +must stop. The Blight and I were seated +on the rear platform and the Blight was +taking a last look at her beloved hills. +When the train started again, there was +a cracking of twigs overhead and a +shower of rhododendron leaves and +flowers dropped from the air at the feet +of the Blight. And when we pulled away +from the high-walled cut we saw, motionless +on a little mound, a black horse, +and on him, motionless, the Knight of the +Cumberland, the helmet on his head (that +the Blight might know who he was, no +doubt), and both hands clasping the +broken handle of his spear, which rested +across the pommel of his saddle. Impulsively +the Blight waved her hand to him +and I could not help waving my hat; but +he sat like a statue and, like a statue, sat +on, simply looking after us as we were +hurried along, until horse, broken shaft, +and shoulders sank out of sight. And thus +passed the Knight of the Cumberland with +the last gleam that struck his helmet, +spear-like, from the slanting sun. + + +THE END + + + diff --git a/old/kcumb10.zip b/old/kcumb10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..04a7b72 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/kcumb10.zip |