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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:25:17 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:25:17 -0700 |
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| tree | 4340c173bec0b372634479b1f01017201717bd1f /5306-h | |
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diff --git a/5306-h/5306-h.htm b/5306-h/5306-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3ec322f --- /dev/null +++ b/5306-h/5306-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4013 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>Down the Ravine | Project Gutenberg</title> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 5306 ***</div> + +DOWN THE RAVINE BY CHARLES EGBERT CRADDOCK.<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +CHAPTER I.<br/> +<br/> +The new moon, a gleaming scimitar, cleft the gauzy mists above a rugged +spur of the Cumberland Mountains. The sky, still crimson and amber, +stretched vast and lonely above the vast and lonely landscape. +A fox was barking in the laurel.<br/> +<br/> +This was an imprudent proceeding on the part of the fox, considering +the value of his head-gear. A young mountaineer down the ravine +was reminded, by the sharp, abrupt sound, of a premium offered by the +State of Tennessee for the scalp and ears of the pestiferous red fox.<br/> +<br/> +All unconscious of the legislation of extermination, the animal sped +nimbly along the ledge of a cliff, becoming visible from the ravine +below, a tawny streak against the gray rock. Swift though he was, +a jet of red light flashing out in the dusk was yet swifter. The +echoing crags clamored with the report of a rifle. The tawny streak +was suddenly still. Three boys appeared in the depths of the ravine +and looked up.<br/> +<br/> +“Thar now! Ye can’t git him off’n that thar +ledge, Birt,” said Tim Griggs. “The contrairy beastis +couldn’t hev fund a more ill-convenient spot ter die of he hed +sarched the mounting.”<br/> +<br/> +“I ain’t goin’ ter leave him thar, though,” +stoutly declared the boy who still held the rifle. “That +thar fox’s scalp an’ his two ears air wuth one whole dollar.”<br/> +<br/> +Tim remonstrated. “Look-a-hyar, Birt; ef ye try ter climb +up this hyar bluff, ye’ll git yer neck bruk, sure.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt Dicey looked up critically. It was a rugged ascent of forty +feet or more to the narrow ledge where the red fox lay. Although +the face of the cliff was jagged, the rock greatly splintered and fissured, +with many ledges, and here and there a tuft of weeds or a stunted bush +growing in a niche, it was very steep, and would afford precarious foothold. +The sunset was fading. The uncertain light would multiply the +dangers of the attempt. But to leave a dollar lying there on the +fox’s head, that the wolf and the buzzard might dine expensively +to-morrow!<br/> +<br/> +“An’ me so tried for money!” he exclaimed, thinking +aloud.<br/> +<br/> +Nate Griggs, who had not before spoken, gave a sudden laugh, - a dry, +jeering laugh.<br/> +<br/> +“Ef all the foxes on the mounting war ter hold a pertracted meet’n, +jes’ ter pleasure you-uns, thar wouldn’t be enough scalps +an’ ears ’mongst ’em ter make up the money ye hanker +fur ter buy a horse.”<br/> +<br/> +To buy a horse was the height of Birt’s ambition. His mother +was a widow; and as an instance of the fact that misfortunes seldom +come singly, the horse on which the family depended to till their scanty +acres died shortly after his owner. And so, whenever the spring +opened and the ploughs all over the countryside were starting, their +one chance to cultivate a crop was to hire a mule from their nearest +neighbor, the tanner. Birt was the eldest son, and his mother +had only his work to offer in payment. The proposition always +took the tanner in what he called a “jubious time.” +Spring is the season for stripping the trees of their bark, which is +richer in tannin when the sap flows most freely, and the mule was needed +to haul up the piles of bark from out the depths of the woods to the +tanyard. Then, too, Jubal Perkins had his own crops to put in. +As he often remarked in the course of the negotiation, “I don’t +eat tan bark - nor yit raw hides.” Although the mule was +a multifarious animal, and ploughed and worked in the bark-mill, and +hauled from the woods, and went long journeys in the wagon or under +the saddle, he was not ubiquitous, and it was impossible for him to +be in the several places in which he was urgently needed at the same +time. Therefore, to hire him out on these terms seemed hardly +an advantage to his master. Nevertheless, this bargain was annually +struck. The poverty-stricken widow always congratulated herself +upon its conclusion, and it never occurred to her that the amount of +work that Birt did in the tanyard was a disproportionately large return +for the few days that the tanner’s mule ploughed their little +fields.<br/> +<br/> +Birt, however, was beginning to see that a boy to drive that mule around +the bark-mill was as essential as the mule himself. As Providence +had failed to furnish the tanner with a son for this purpose - his family +consisting of several small daughters - Birt supplied a long-felt want.<br/> +<br/> +The boy appreciated that his simple mother was over-reached, yet he +could not see that she could do otherwise. He sighed for independence, +for a larger opportunity. As he drove the mule round the limited +circuit, his mind was far away. He anxiously canvassed the future. +He cherished fiery, ambitious schemes, - often scorched, poor fellow, +by their futility. With his time thus mortgaged, he thought his +help to his mother was far less than it might be. But until he +could have a horse of his own, there was no hope - no progress. +And for this he planned, and dreamed, and saved.<br/> +<br/> +Partly these considerations, partly the love of adventure, and partly +the jeer in Nate’s laugh determined him not to relinquish the +price set upon the fox’s head. He took off his coat and +flung it on the ground beside his rifle. Then he began to clamber +up the cliff.<br/> +<br/> +The two brothers, their hands in the pockets of their brown jeans trousers, +stood watching his ascent. Nate had sandy hair, small gray eyes, +set much too close together, and a sharp, pale, freckled face. +Tim seemed only a mild repetition of him, as if Nature had tried to +illustrate what Nate would be with a better temper and less sly intelligence.<br/> +<br/> +Birt was climbing slowly. It was a difficult matter. Here +was a crevice that would hardly admit his eager fingers, and again a +projection so narrow that it seemed to grudge him foothold. Some +of the ledges, however, were wider, and occasionally a dwarfed huckleberry +bush, nourished in a fissure, lifted him up like a helping hand. +He quaked as he heard the roots strain and creak, for he was a pretty +heavy fellow for sixteen years of age. They did not give way, +however, and up and up he went, every moment increasing the depth below +him and the danger. His breath was short; his strength flagged, +he slipped more than once, giving himself a great fright; and when he +reached the ledge where the dead fox lay, he thought, “The varmint +don’t wuth it.”<br/> +<br/> +Nevertheless he whooped out his triumph to Nate and Tim in a stentorian +halloo, for they had already started homeward, and presently their voices +died in the distance. Birt faced about and sat down on the ledge +to rest, his feet dangling over the depths beneath.<br/> +<br/> +It was a lonely spot, walled in by the mountains, and frequented only +by the deer that were wont to come to lick salt from the briny margin +of a great salt spring far down the ravine. Their hoofs had worn +a deep excavation around it in the countless years and generations that +they had herded here. The “lick,” as such places are +called in Tennessee, was nearly two acres in extent, and in the centre +of the depression the brackish water stood to the depth of six feet +or more. Birt looked down at it, thinking of the old times when, +according to tradition, it was the stamping ground of buffalo as well +as deer. The dusk deepened. The shadows were skulking in +and out of the wild ravine as the wind rose and fell. They took +to his fancy the form of herds of the banished bison, revisiting in +this impalpable guise the sylvan shades where they are but a memory +now.<br/> +<br/> +Presently he began the rugged descent, considerably hampered by the +fox, which he carried by the tail. He stopped to rest whenever +he found a ledge that would serve as a seat. Looking up, high +above the jagged summit of the cliff that sharply serrated the zenith, +he saw the earliest star, glorious in the crimson and amber sky. +Below, a point of silver light quivered, reflected in the crimson and +amber waters of the “lick.” The fire-flies were flickering +among the ferns; he saw about him their errant gleam. The shadowy +herds trooped down the mountain side.<br/> +<br/> +Now and then his weight uprooted a bush in his hands, and the clods +fell. He missed his footing as he neared the base, and came down +with a thump. It was a gravelly spot where he had fallen, and +he saw in a moment that it was the summer-dried channel of a mountain +rill. As he pulled himself up on one elbow, he suddenly paused +with dilated eyes. The evening light fell upon a burnished glimmer; +- a bit of stone - was it stone? - shining with a metallic lustre.<br/> +<br/> +He looked at it for a moment, his eyes glowing in the contemplation +of a splendid possibility.<br/> +<br/> +What were those old stories that his father used to tell of the gold +excitement in Tennessee in 1831, when the rich earth flung largess from +its hidden wealth along the romantic banks of Coca Creek! Gold +had been found in Tennessee - why not here? And once - why not +again?<br/> +<br/> +The idea so possessed him that while he was skinning the fox his sharp +knife almost sacrificed one of the <i>two</i> ears imperatively required +by the statute, in order that the wily hunter may not be tempted to +present one ear at a time, thus multiplying red foxes and premiums therefor +like Falstaff’s “rogues in buckram.”<br/> +<br/> +He took his way homeward through the darkening woods, carrying the pelt +in his hand. It was not long before he could hear the dogs barking, +and as he came suddenly upon a little clearing in the midst of the dense, +encompassing wilderness, he saw them all trooping down from the unenclosed +passage between the two log-rooms which constituted the house. +An old hound had half climbed the fence, but as he laid his fore-paw +on the topmost rail, his deep-mouthed bay was hushed, - he was recognizing +the approaching step of his master. The yellow curs were still +insisting upon a marauder theory. One of them barked defiance +as he thrust his head between the rails of the fence. There was +another head thrust through too, about on a level with Towser’s, +but it was not a dog’s head. As Birt caught a glimpse of +it, he called out hastily, “Stand back thar, Tennessee!” +And then it was lost to view, for at the sound of his voice all the +dogs came huddling over the bars, shrilly yelping a tumultuous welcome.<br/> +<br/> +When Birt had vaulted over the fence, the little object withdrew its +head from between the rails and came trotting along beside him, holding +up its hand to clasp his.<br/> +<br/> +His mother, standing in the passage, her tall, thin figure distinct +in the firelight that came flickering out through the open door, soliloquized +querulously: -<br/> +<br/> +“Ef that thar child don’t quit that fool way o’ stickin’ +her head a-twixt the rails ter watch fur her brother, she’ll git +cotched thar some day like a peeg in a pen, an’ git her neck bruk.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt overheard her. “Tennessee air too peart ter git herself +hurt,” he said, a trifle ashamed of his ready championship of +his little sister, as a big rough boy is apt to be of gentler emotions.<br/> +<br/> +If ever infancy can be deemed uncouth, she was an uncouth little atom +of humanity. Her blue checked homespun dress, graced with big +horn buttons, descended almost to her feet. Her straight, awkwardly +cropped hair was of a nondescript shade pleasantly called “tow.” +As she came into the light of the fire, she lifted wide black eyes deprecatingly +to her mother.<br/> +<br/> +“She ain’t pretty, I know, but she air powerful peart,” +Birt used to say so often that the phrase became a formula with him.<br/> +<br/> +If she were “powerful peart,” it was a fact readily apparent +only to him, for she was a silent child, with the single marked characteristic +of great affection for her eldest brother and a singular pertinacity +in following him about.<br/> +<br/> +“I dunno ’bout Tennie’s peartness,” his mother +sarcastically rejoined. “‘Pears ter me like the chile +hain’t never hed good sense; afore she could walk she’d +crawl along the floor arter ye, an’ holler like a squeech-ow<i>el</i> +ef ye went off an’ lef’ her. An’ ye air plumb +teched in the head too, Birt, ter set sech store by Tennie. I +look ter see her killed, or stunted, some day, in them travels o’ +hern.”<br/> +<br/> +For when Birt Dicey went “yerrands” on the mule through +the woods to the Settlement, Tennessee often rode on the pommel of his +saddle. She followed in the furrow when he ploughed. She +was as familiar an object at the tanyard as the bark-mill itself. +When he wielded the axe, she perched on one end of the woodpile. +But so far, she had passed safely through her varied adventures, and +gratifying evidences of her growth were registered on the door. +“Stand back thar, Tennessee!” in a loud, boyish halloo, +was a command when danger was ahead, which she obeyed with the readiness +of a veteran.<br/> +<br/> +Sometimes, however, this incongruous companionship became irksome to +him. Her trusting, insistent affection made her a clog upon him, +and he grew impatient of it.<br/> +<br/> +Ah, little Sister! he learned its value one day.<br/> +<br/> +The great wood fire was all aflare in the deep chimney-place. +Savory odors came from the gridiron and the skillet and the hoe, on +the live coals drawn out on the broad hearth. The tow-headed children +grew noisy as they assembled around the bare pine table, and began to +clash their knives and forks.<br/> +<br/> +Birt, unmindful, crouched by the hearth, silently turning his precious +specimens about, that he might examine them by the firelight. +Tennessee, her chuffy hand on his shoulder, for she could reach it as +he knelt, held her head close to his, and looked at them too with wide +black eyes. His mother placed the supper on the table, and twice +she called to him to come, but he did not hear. She turned and +looked down at him, then broke out sharply in indignant surprise.<br/> +<br/> +“Air ye bereft o’ reason, Birt Dicey! Ye set thar +nosin’ a handful o’ rocks ez ef they war fitten ter eat! +An’ now look at the boy - a stuffin’ ’em in his pockets +ter sag ’em down and tear ’em out fur me ter sew in ag’in. +Waal, waal! Sol’mon say ef ye spare the rod ye spile the +child - mos’ ennybody could hev fund that out from thar own ’sperience; +but the wisest man that ever lived lef’ no receipt how ter keep +a boy’s pockets whole in his breeches.”<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +CHAPTER II.<br/> +<br/> +Birt Dicey lay awake deep into the night, pondering and planning. +But despite this unwonted vigil the old bark-mill was early astir, and +he went alertly about his work. He felt eager, strong, capable. +The spirit of progress was upon him.<br/> +<br/> +The tanyard lay in the midst of a forest so dense that, except at the +verge of the clearing, it showed hardly a trace of its gradual despoliation +by the industry that nestled in its heart like a worm in the bud. +There were many stumps about the margin of the woods, the felled trees, +stripped of their bark, often lying among them still, for the supply +of timber exceeded the need. In penetrating the wilderness you +might mark, too, here and there, a vacant space, where the chestnut-oak, +prized for its tannin, had once grown on the slope.<br/> +<br/> +A little log house was in the midst of the clearing. It had, properly +speaking, only one room, but there was a shed-room attached, for the +purpose of storage, and also a large open shed at one side. The +rail fence inclosed the space of an acre, perhaps, which was covered +with spent bark. Across the pits planks were laid, with heavy +stones upon them to hold them in place. A rude roof sheltered +the bark-mill from the weather, and there was the patient mule, with +Birt and a whip to make sure that he did not fall into reflective pauses +according to his meditative wont. And there, too, was Tennessee, +perched on the lower edge of a great pile of bark, and gravely watching +Birt.<br/> +<br/> +He deprecated the attention she attracted. He was sometimes ashamed +to have the persistent little sister seen following at his heels like +a midday shadow. He could not know that the men who stopped and +spoke to him and to her, and laughed at the infirmities of the infant +tongue when she replied unintelligibly, thought better of him for his +manifestation of strong fraternal affection. They said to each +other that he was a “peart boy an’ powerful good ter the +t’other chill’en, an’ holped the fambly along ez well +ez a man - better’n thar dad ever done;” for Birt’s +father had been characterized always as “slack-twisted an’ +onlucky.”<br/> +<br/> +The shadows dwindled on the tan. The winds had furled their wings. +White clouds rose, dazzling, opaque, up to the blue zenith. The +querulous cicada complained in the laurel. Birt heard the call +of a jay from the woods. And then, as he once more urged the old +mule on, the busy bark-mill kept up such a whir that he could hear nothing +else. He was not aware of an approach till the new-comer was close +upon him; in fact, the first he knew of Nate Griggs’s proximity +was the sight of him. Nate was glancing about with his usual air +of questioning disparagement, and cracking a long lash at the spent +bark on the ground.<br/> +<br/> +“Hello, Nate!” Birt cried out, eagerly. “I’m +powerful glad ye happened ter kem hyar, fur I hev a word ter say ter +ye.”<br/> +<br/> +“I dunno ez I’m minded ter bide,” Nate said cavalierly. +“I hates to waste time an’ burn daylight a-jowin’.”<br/> +<br/> +He was still cracking his lash at the ground. There was a sudden, +half-articulate remonstrance.<br/> +<br/> +Birt, who had turned away to the bark-mill, whirled back in a rising +passion.<br/> +<br/> +“Did ye hit Tennessee?” he asked, with a dangerous light +in his eyes.<br/> +<br/> +“No - I never!” Nate protested. “I hain’t +seen her till this minute. She war standin’ a-hint ye.”<br/> +<br/> +“Waal, ye skeered her, then,” said Birt, hardly appeased. +“Quit snappin’ that lash. ’Pears-like ter me +ez ye makes yerself powerful free round this hyar tanyard.”<br/> +<br/> +“Tennie air a-growin’ wonderful fast,” the sly Nathan +remarked pleasantly.<br/> +<br/> +Birt softened instantly. “She air a haffen inch higher ’n +she war las’ March, ’cordin’ ter the mark on the door,” +he declared, pridefully. “She ain’t pretty, I know, +but she air powerful peart.”<br/> +<br/> +“What war the word ez ye war layin’ off ter say ter me?” +Nate asked, curiosity vividly expressed in his face.<br/> +<br/> +Birt leaned back against the pile of bark and hesitated. Last +night he had thought Nate the most desirable person to whom he could +confide his secret whose aid he could secure. There were many +circumstances that made this seem wise. But when the disclosure +was imminent, something in those small, bead-like eyes, unpleasantly +close together, something in the expression of the thin, pale face, +something in Nate’s voice and manner repelled confidence.<br/> +<br/> +“Nate,” said Birt, at last, speaking with that subacute +conviction, so strong yet so ill-defined, which vividly warns the ill-judged +and yet cannot stop the tongue constrained by its own folly, “what +d’ye s’pose I fund in the woods yestiddy?”<br/> +<br/> +The two small eyes, set close together, seemed merged in one, so concentrated +was their gaze. Again their expression struck Birt’s attention. +He hesitated once more. “Ef I tell ye, will ye promise never +ter tell enny livin’ human critter?”<br/> +<br/> +“I hope I may drap stone dead ef I ever tell!” Nate exclaimed.<br/> +<br/> +“I fund a strange metal in the woods yestiddy. What d’ye +s’pose ’t war?”<br/> +<br/> +Nate shook his head. His breath was quick and he could not control +the keen anxiety in his face. A strong flush rose to the roots +of his sandy hair, his lips quivered, and his small eyes glittered with +greedy expectation. His tongue refused to frame a word.<br/> +<br/> +“<i>Gold</i>!” cried Birt, triumphantly.<br/> +<br/> +“Whar be it?” exclaimed Nate. He was about to start +in full run for the spot.<br/> +<br/> +“I ain’t agoin’ ter tell ye, without we-uns kin strike +a trade.”<br/> +<br/> +“Waal,” said Nate, with difficulty repressing his impatience, +“what air you-uns aimin’ ter do?”<br/> +<br/> +“Ye knows ez I hev ter bide hyar with the bark-mill mos’ly, +jes’ now,” said Birt, beginning to expound the series of +ideas which he had carefully worked out in his midnight vigil, “‘kase +they hev got ter hev a heap o’ tan ter fill them thar vats ag’in. +Ef I war ter leave an’ go a-gold huntin’, the men on the +mounting would find out what I war arter, an’ they’d come +a-grabblin’ thar too, an’ mebbe git it all, ’kase +I dunno how much or how leetle thar be. I wants ter make sure +of enough ter buy a horse, or a mule, or su’thin’, ef I +kin, ’fore I tells ennybody else. An’ I ’lowed +ez ye an’ me would go pardners. Ye’d take my place +hyar at the tanyard one day, whilst I dug, an’ I’d bide +in the tanyard nex’ day. An’ we would divide fair +an’ even all we fund.”<br/> +<br/> +Nate did not reply. He was absorbed in a project that had come +into his head as his friend talked, and the two dissimilar trains of +thought combined in a mental mosaic that would have amazed Birt Dicey.<br/> +<br/> +“Ye see,” Birt presently continued, “I dunno when +I kin git shet o’ the tanyard this year. Old Jube Perkins +’lows ez he air mighty busy ’bout’n them hides an’ +sech, an’ he wants me ter holp around ginerally. He say +ef I do mo’ work’n I owes him, he’ll make that straight +with my mother. An’ he declares fur true ef I don’t +holp him at this junctry, when he needs me, he won’t hire his +mule to my mother nex’ spring; an’ ye know it won’t +do fur we-uns ter resk the corn-crap an’ gyarden truck with sech +a pack o’ chill’n ter vittle ez we-uns hev got at our house.”<br/> +<br/> +Nate deduced an unexpected conclusion. “Ye oughter gin me +more’n haffen the make,” he said. “‘Kase +ef ’twarn’t fur me, ye couldn’t git none. An’ +ef ye don’t say two thurds, I’ll tell every critter on the +mounting an’ they’ll be grabblin’ in yer gold mine +d’rec’ly.”<br/> +<br/> +“Ye dunno whar it is,” said Birt, quietly.<br/> +<br/> +If a sudden jet from the cold mountain torrent, that rioted through +the wilderness down the ravine hard by, had been dashed into Nate’s +thin, sharp face, he could not have cooled more abruptly. The +change almost took his breath away.<br/> +<br/> +“I don’t mean <i>that</i>, nuther,” he gasped with +politic penitence, “kase I hev promised not ter tell. I +dunno whether I kin holp nohow. I hev got ter do my sheer o’ +work at home; we ain’t through pullin’ fodder off’n +our late corn yit.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt looked at him in silent surprise.<br/> +<br/> +Nate was older than his friend by several years. He was of an +unruly and insubordinate temper, and did as little work as he pleased +at home. He often remarked that he would like to see who could +make him do what he had no mind to do.<br/> +<br/> +“Mebbe old Jube wouldn’t want me round ’bout,” +he suggested.<br/> +<br/> +“Waal,” said Birt, eager again to detail his plans, “he +’lowed when I axed him this mornin’ ez he’d be willin’ +ef I could trade with another boy ter take my place wunst in a while.”<br/> +<br/> +Nate affected to meditate on this view of the question. “But +it will be toler’ble fur away fur me ter go prowlin’ in +the woods, a-huntin’ fur gold, an’ our fodder jes’ +a-sufferin’ ter be pulled. Ef the spot air fur off, I can’t +come an’ I won’t, not fur haffen the make.”<br/> +<br/> +“‘T ain’t fur off at all - scant haffen mile,” +replied unwary Birt, anxious to convince. “It air jes’ +yander nigh that thar salt lick down the ravine. I marks the spot +by a bowlder - biggest bowlder I ever see - on the slope o’ the +mounting.”<br/> +<br/> +The instant this revelation passed his lips, regret seized him. +“But ye ain’t ter go thar ’thout me, ye onderstand, +till we begins our work.”<br/> +<br/> +“I ain’t wantin’ ter go,” Nate protested. +“I ain’t sati’fied in my mind whether I’ll ondertake +ter holp or no. That pullin’ fodder ez I hev got ter do +sets mighty heavy on my stomach.”<br/> +<br/> +“Tim an’ yer dad <i>always</i> pulls the fodder an’ +sech - I knows ez that air a true word,” said Birt, bluntly. +“An’ I can’t git away from the tanyard at all ef ye +won’t holp me, ’kase old Jube ’lowed he wouldn’t +let me swop with a smaller boy ter work hyar; an’ all them my +size, an’ bigger, air made ter work with thar dads, ’ceptin’ +you-uns.”<br/> +<br/> +Nate heard, but he hardly looked as if he did, so busily absorbed was +he in fitting this fragment of fact into his mental mosaic. It +had begun to assume the proportions of a distinct design.<br/> +<br/> +He suddenly asked a question of apparent irrelevancy.<br/> +<br/> +“This hyar land down the ravine don’t b’long ter yer +folkses - who do it b’long ter?”<br/> +<br/> +“Don’t b’long ter nobody, ye weasel!” Birt retorted, +in rising wrath. “D’ye s’pose I’d be a-stealin’ +of gold off’n somebody else’s land?”<br/> +<br/> +Nate’s sly, thin face lighted up wonderfully. He seemed +in a fever of haste to terminate the conference and get away. +He agreed to his friend’s proposition and promised to be at the +bark-mill bright and early in the morning. As he trudged off, +Birt Dicey stood watching the receding figure. His eyes were perplexed, +his mind full of anxious foreboding. He hardly knew what he feared. +He had only a vague sense of mischief in the air, as slight but as unmistakable +as the harbinger of storm on a sunshiny summer day.<br/> +<br/> +“I wisht I hedn’t tole him nuthin’,” he said, +as he wended his way home that night. “Ef my mother hed +knowed bout’n it all, I wouldn’t hev been ’lowed ter +tell him. She <i>de</i>spises the very sight o’ this hyar +Nate Griggs - an’ yit she say she dunno why.”<br/> +<br/> +After supper he sat gloomy and taciturn in the uninclosed passage between +the two rooms, watching alternately the fire-flies, as they instarred +the dark woods with ever-shifting gold sparks, and the broad, pale flashes +of heat lightning which from time to time illumined the horizon. +There was no motion in the heavy black foliage, but it was filled with +the shrill droning of the summer insects, and high in the branches a +screech-owl pierced the air with its keen, quavering scream.<br/> +<br/> +“Tennessee!” exclaimed Birt, as the unwelcome sound fell +upon his ear - ”Tennessee! run an’ put the shovel in the +fire!”<br/> +<br/> +Whether the shovel, becoming hot among the live coals, burned the owl +that was high in the tree-top outside, according to the countryside +superstition, or whether by a singular coincidence, he discovered that +he had business elsewhere, he was soon gone, and the night was left +to the chorusing katydids and tree-toads and to the weird, fitful illuminations +of the noiseless heat lightning.<br/> +<br/> +Birt Dicey rose suddenly and walked away silently into the dense, dark +woods.<br/> +<br/> +“Stop, Tennessee! ye can’t go too!” exclaimed Mrs. +Dicey, appearing in the doorway just in time to intercept the juvenile +excursionist. “Ketch her, Rufus! Ef she wouldn’t +hev followed Birt right off in the pitch dark! She ain’t +afeared o’ nothin’ when Birt is thar. Git that pomegranate +she hed an’ gin it ter her ter keep her from hollerin’, +Rufe; I hed a sight ruther hear the squeech-ow<i>el</i>.”<br/> +<br/> +Tennessee, overpowered by disappointment, sobbed herself to sleep upon +the floor, and then ensued an interval of quiet. Rufe, a towheaded +boy of ten, dressed in an unbleached cotton shirt and blue-checked homespun +trousers, concluded that this moment was the accepted time to count +the balls in his brother’s shot-pouch. This he proceeded +to do, with the aid of the sullen glare from the embers within and the +fluctuating gleams of the lightning without. There was no pretense +of utility in Rufe’s performance; only the love of handling lead +could explain it.<br/> +<br/> +“Ye hed better mind,” his mother admonished him. “Birt +war powerful tried the t’other day ter think what hed gone with +his bullets. He’ll nose ye out afore long.”<br/> +<br/> +“They hev got sech a fool way o’ slippin’ through +the chinks in the floor,” said the boy in exasperation. +“I never seen the beat! An’ thar’s no gittin’ +them out, nuther. I snaked under the house yestiddy an’ +sarched, an’ sarched! - an’ I never fund but two. +An’ Towse, he dragged hisself under thar, too - jes’ a-growlin’ +an’ a-snappin’. I thought fur sartin every minit he’d +bite my foot off.”<br/> +<br/> +He resumed his self-imposed task of counting the rifle balls, and now +and then a sharp click told that another was consigned to that limbo +guarded by Towse. Mrs. Dicey stood in silence for a time, gazing +upon the unutterably gloomy forest, the distant, throbbing stars, and +the broad, wan flashes at long intervals gleaming through the sky.<br/> +<br/> +“It puts me in a mighty tucker ter hev yer brother a-settin’ +out through the woods this hyar way, an’ a-leavin’ of we-uns +hyar, all by ourselves sech a dark night. I’m always afeared +thar mought be a bar a-prowlin’ round. An’ the cornfield +air close ter the house, too.”<br/> +<br/> +“Pete Thompson - him ez war yander ter the tanyard day ’fore +yestiddy with his dad,” said the boy, “he tole it ter me +ez how he seen a bar las’ Wednesday a-climbin’ over the +fence ter thar cornfield, with a haffen dozen roastin’-ears under +his arm an’ a watermillion on his head. But <i>war</i> it +a haffen dozen? I furgits now ef Pete said it war a haffen dozen +or nine ears of corn the bar hed;” and he paused to reflect in +the midst of his important occupation.<br/> +<br/> +“I’ll be bound Pete never stopped ter count ’em,” +said Mrs. Dicey. “Pick that chile up an’ come in. +I’m goin’ ter bar up the door.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt Dicey plodded away through the deep woods and the dense darkness +down the ravine. Although he could not now distinguish one stone +from another, he had an uncontrollable impulse to visit again the treasure +he had discovered. The murmur of the gently bubbling water warned +him of the proximity of the deep salt spring almost at the base of the +mountain, and, guiding himself partly by the sound, he made his way +along the slope to the great bowlder beneath the cliffs that served +to mark the spot. As he laid his hand on the bowlder, he experienced +a wonderful exhilaration of spirit. Once more he canvassed his +scheme. This was the one great opportunity of his restricted life. +Visions of future possibilities were opening wide their fascinating +vistas. He might make enough to buy a horse, and this expressed +his idea of wealth. “But ef I live ter git a cent out’n +it,” he said to himself, “I’ll take the very fust +money I kin call my own an’ buy Tennessee a chany cup an’ +sarcer, an’ a string o’ blue beads an’ a caliky coat +- ef I die fur it.”<br/> +<br/> +His pleased reverie was broken by a sudden discovery. He was not +standing among stones about the great bowlder; no - his foot had sunk +deep in the sand! He stooped down in the darkness and felt about +him. The spot was not now as he had left it yesterday afternoon. +He was sure of this, even before a fleet, wan flash of the heat lightning +showed him at his feet the unmistakable signs of a recent excavation. +It was not deep, it was not broad; but it was fresh and it betrayed +a prying hand. Again the heat lightning illumined the wide, vague +sky. He saw the solemn dark forests; he saw the steely glimmer +of the lick; the distant mountains flickered against the pallid horizon; +and once more - densest gloom.<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +CHAPTER III.<br/> +<br/> +It was Nate who had been here, - Birt felt sure of that; Nate, who had +promised he would not come.<br/> +<br/> +Convinced that his friend was playing a false part, Birt went at once +to the bark-mill in the morning, confident that he would not find Nate +at work in the tanyard according to their agreement.<br/> +<br/> +It was later than usual, and Jubal Perkins swore at Birt for his tardiness. +He hardly heard; and as the old bark-mill ground and ground the bark, +and the mule jogged around and around, and the hot sun shone, and the +voices of the men handling the hides at the tanpit were loud on the +air, all his thoughts were of the cool, dark, sequestered ravine, holding +in its cloven heart the secret he had discovered.<br/> +<br/> +Rufus happened to come to the tanyard today. Birt seized the opportunity.<br/> +<br/> +“Rufe,” he said, “ye see I can’t git away from +the mill, ’kase I’m ’bleeged ter stay hyar whilst +the old mule grinds. But ef ye’ll go over yander ter Nate +Griggs’s house an’ tell him ter come over hyar, bein’ +ez I want to see him partic’lar, I’ll fix ye a squir’l-trap +before long ez the peartest old Bushy-tail on the mounting ain’t +got the gumption ter git out’n. An’ let me know ef +Nate ain’t thar.”<br/> +<br/> +Rufe was disposed to parley. He stood first on one foot, then +on the other. He cast calculating eyes at the bark-mill and out +upon the deep forest. The exact date on which this promise was +to be fulfilled had to be fixed before he announced his willingness +to set out.<br/> +<br/> +Ten to one, he would have gone without the bribe, had none been suggested, +for he loved the woods better than the woodpile, and a five-mile tramp +through its tangles wearied his bones not so much as picking up a single +basketful of chips. Some boys’ bones are constituted thus, +strange as it may seem.<br/> +<br/> +So he went his way in his somewhat eccentric gait, compounded of a hop, +and a skip, and a dawdle. He had made about half a mile when the +path curved to the mountain’s brink. He paused and parted +the glossy leaves of the dense laurel that he might look out over the +precipice at the distant heights. How blue - how softly blue they +were! - the endless ranges about the horizon. What a golden haze +melted on those nearer at hand, bravely green in the sunshine! +From among the beetling crags, the first red leaf was whirling away +against the azure sky. Even a buzzard had its picturesque aspects, +circling high above the mountains in its strong, majestic flight. +To breathe the balsamic, sunlit air was luxury, happiness; it was a +wonder that Rufe got on as fast as he did. How fragrant and cool +and dark was the shadowy valley! A silver cloud lay deep in the +waters of the “lick.” Why Rufe made up his mind to +go down there, he could hardly have said - sheer curiosity, perhaps. +He knew he had plenty of time to get to Nate’s house and back +before dark. People who sent Rufe on errands usually reckoned +for two hours’ waste in each direction. He had no idea of +descending the cliffs as Birt had done. He stolidly retraced his +way until he was nearly home; then scrambling down rocky slopes he came +presently upon a deer-path. All at once, he noticed the footprint +of a man in a dank, marshy spot. He stopped and looked hard at +it, for he had naturally supposed this path was used only by the woodland +gentry.<br/> +<br/> +“Some deer-hunter, I reckon,” he said. And so he went +on.<br/> +<br/> +With his characteristic curiosity, he peered all around the “lick” +when he was at last there. He even applied his tongue, calf-like, +to the briny earth; it did not taste so salty as he had expected. +As he rolled over luxuriously on his back among the fragrant summer +weeds, he caught sight of something in the branches of an oak tree. +He sat up and stared. It looked like a rude platform. After +a moment, he divined that it was the remnant of a scaffold from which +some early settler of Tennessee had been wont to fire upon the deer +or the buffalo at the “lick,” below. Such relics, +some of them a century old, are to be seen to this day in sequestered +nooks of the Cumberland Mountains. Rufe had heard of these old +scaffolds, but he had never known of the existence of this one down +by the “lick.” He sprang up, a flush of excitement +contending with the dirt on his countenance; he set his squirrel teeth +resolutely together; he applied his sturdy fingers and his nimble legs +to the bark of the tree, and up he went like a cat.<br/> +<br/> +He climbed to the lower branches easily enough, but he caused much commotion +and swaying among them as he struggled through the foliage. An +owl, with great remonstrant eyes, suddenly looked out of a hollow, higher +still, with an inarticulate mutter of mingled reproach, and warning, +and anxiety. Rufe settled himself on the platform, his bare feet +dangling about jocosely. Then, beating his hands on either thigh +to mark the time he sang in a loud, shrill soprano, prone now and then +to be flat, and yet, impartially, prone now and then to be sharp: -<br/> +<br/> + Thar war two sun-dogs in the red day-dawn,<br/> + An’ the wind war laid - ’t +war prime fur game.<br/> + I went ter the woods betimes that morn,<br/> + An’ tuk my flint-lock, “Nancy,” +by name;<br/> + An’ thar I see, +in the crotch of a tree,<br/> + A great big catamount +grinnin’ at me.<br/> + A-kee! he! he! An’ +a-ho! ho! he!<br/> + A pop-eyed catamount +laffin’ at me!<br/> +<br/> +And, as Rufe sang, the anger and remonstrance in the owl’s demeanor +increased every moment. For the owl was a vocalist, too!<br/> +<br/> + Bein’ made game of by a brute beastis,<br/> + War su’thin’ I could +in no ways allow.<br/> + I jes’ spoke up, for my dander hed riz,<br/> + “Cat - take in the slack o’ +yer jaw!”<br/> + He bowed his back - Nance sighted him gran’,<br/> + Then the blamed old gal jes’ flashed in the +pan!<br/> + A-kee! he! he! An’ a-ho! ho! he!<br/> + With a outraged catamount rebukin’ of me!<br/> +<br/> +As Rufe finished this with a mighty <i>crescendo</i>, he was obliged +to pause for breath. He stared about, gaspily. The afternoon +was waning. The mountains close at hand were a darker green. +The distant ranges had assumed a rosy amethystine tint, like nothing +earthly - like the mountains of a dream, perhaps. The buzzard +had alighted in the top of a tree not far down the slope, a tree long +ago lightning-scathed, but still rising, gaunt and scarred, above all +the forest, and stretching dead stark arms to heaven. Somehow +Rufe did not like the looks of it. He was aware of a revulsion +of feeling, of the ebbing away of his merry spirit before he saw more.<br/> +<br/> +As he tried to sing: -<br/> +<br/> + I war the mightiest hunter that ever ye see<br/> + Till that thar catamount tuk arter me! -<br/> +<br/> +his tongue clove suddenly to the roof of his mouth.<br/> +<br/> +He could see something under that tree which no one else could see, +not even from the summit of the crags, for the tree was beyond a projecting +slope, and out of the range of vision thence.<br/> +<br/> +Rufe could not make out distinctly what the object was, but it was evidently +foreign to the place. He possessed the universal human weakness +of regarding everything with a personal application. It now seemed +strange to him that he should have come here at all; stranger still, +that he should have mounted this queer relic of days so long gone by, +and thus discovered that peculiar object under the dead tree. +He began to think he had been led here for a purpose. Now Rufe +was not so good a boy as to be on the continual lookout for rewards +of merit. On the contrary, the day of reckoning meant with him +the day of punishment. He had heard recounted an unpleasant superstition +that when the red sunsets were flaming round the western mountains, +and the valleys were dark and drear, and the abysses and gorges gloomed +full of witches and weird spirits, Satan himself might be descried, +walking the crags, and spitting fire, and deporting himself generally +in such a manner as to cause great apprehension to a small person who +could remember so many sins as Rufe could. His sins! they trooped +up before his mental vision now, and in a dense convocation crowded +the encompassing wilderness.<br/> +<br/> +Rufe felt that he must not leave this matter in uncertainty. He +must know whether that strange object under the tree could be intended +as a warning to him to cease in time his evil ways - tormenting Towse, +pulling Tennessee’s hair, shirking the woodpile, and squandering +Birt’s rifle balls. He even feared this might be a notification +that the hour of retribution had already come!<br/> +<br/> +He scuttled off the platform, and began to swing himself from bough +to bough. He was nervous and less expert than when he had climbed +up the tree. He lost his grip once, and crashed from one branch +to another, scratching himself handsomely in the operation. The +owl, emboldened by his retreat, flew awkwardly down upon the scaffold, +and perched there, its head turned askew, and its great, round eyes +fixed solemnly upon him.<br/> +<br/> +Suddenly a wild hoot of derision rent the air; the echoes answered, +and all the ravine was filled with the jeering clamor.<br/> +<br/> +“The wust luck in the worl’!” plained poor Rufe, as +the ill-omened cry rose again and again. “‘Tain’t +goin’ ter s’prise me none now, ef I gits my neck bruk along +o’ this resky foolishness in this cur’ous place whar ow<i>els</i> +watch from the lookout ez dead men hev lef’.”<br/> +<br/> +He came down unhurt, however. Then he sidled about a great many +times through “the laurel,” for he could not muster courage +for a direct approach to the strange object he had descried. The +owl still watched him, and bobbed its head and hooted after him. +When he drew near the lightning-scathed tree, he paused rooted to the +spot, gazing in astonishment, his hat on the back of his tow head, his +eyes opened wide, one finger inserted in his mouth in silent deprecation.<br/> +<br/> +For there stood a man dressed in black, and with a dark straw hat on +his head. He had gray whiskers, and gleaming spectacles of a mildly +surprised expression. He smiled kindly when he saw Rufe. +Incongruously enough, he had a hammer in his hand. He was going +down the ravine, tapping the rocks with it. And Rufe thought he +looked for all the world like some over-grown, demented woodpecker.<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +CHAPTER IV.<br/> +<br/> +As Rufe still stood staring, the old gentleman held out his hand with +a cordial gesture.<br/> +<br/> +“Come here, my little man!” he said in a kind voice.<br/> +<br/> +Rufe hesitated. Then he was seized by sudden distrust. Who +was this stranger? and why did he call, “Come here!”<br/> +<br/> +Perhaps the fears already uppermost in Rufe’s mind influenced +his hasty conclusion. He cast a horrified glance upon the old +gentleman in black, a garb of suspicious color to the little mountaineer, +who had never seen men clad in aught but the brown jeans habitually +worn by the hunters of the range. He remembered, too, the words +of an old song that chronicled how alluring were the invitations of +Satan, and with a frenzied cry he fled frantically through the laurel.<br/> +<br/> +Away and away he dashed, up steep ascents, down sharp declivities, falling +twice or thrice in his haste, but hurting his clothes more than himself.<br/> +<br/> +It was not long before he was in sight of home, and Towse met him at +the fence. The feeling between these two was often the reverse +of cordial, and as Rufe climbed down from rail to rail, his sullen “Lemme +’lone, now!” was answered by sundry snaps at his heels and +a low growl. Not that Towse would really have harmed him - fealty +to the family forbade that; but in defense of his ears and tail he thought +it best to keep fierce possibilities in Rufe’s contemplation.<br/> +<br/> +Rufe sat down on the floor of the uninclosed passage between the two +rooms, his legs dangling over the sparse sprouts of chickweed and clumps +of mullein that grew just beneath, for there were no steps, and Towse +bounded up and sat upright close beside him. And as he sought +to lean on Towse, the dog sought to lean on him.<br/> +<br/> +They both looked out meditatively at the dense and sombre wilderness, +upon which this little clearing and humble log-cabin were but meagre +suggestions of that strong, full-pulsed humanity that has elsewhere +subdued nature, and achieved progress, and preëmpted perfection.<br/> +<br/> +Towse soon shut his eyes, and presently he was nodding. Presumably +he dreamed, for once he roused himself to snap at a fly, when there +was no fly. Rufe, however, was wide awake, and busily canvassing +how to account to Birt for the lack of a message from Nate Griggs, for +he would not confess how untrustworthy he had proved himself. +As he reflected upon this perplexity, he leaned his throbbing head on +his hand, and his attitude expressed a downcast spirit.<br/> +<br/> +This chanced to strike his mother’s attention as she came to the +door. She paused and looked keenly at him.<br/> +<br/> +“Them hoss apples ag’in!” she exclaimed, with the +voice of accusation. She had no idea of youthful dejection disconnected +with the colic.<br/> +<br/> +Rufe was roused to defend himself. “Hain’t teched +’em, now!” he cried, acrimoniously.<br/> +<br/> +“Waal, sometimes ye air sorter loose-jointed in yer jaw, an’ +ain’t partic’lar what ye say,” rejoined his mother, +politely. “I’ll waste a leetle yerb-tea on ye, ennyhow.”<br/> +<br/> +She started back into the room, and Rufe rose at once. This cruelty +should not be practiced upon him, whatever might betide him at the tanyard. +He set out at a brisk pace. He had no mind to be long alone in +the woods since his strange adventure down the ravine, or he might have +hid in the underbrush, as he had often done, until other matters usurped +his mother’s medicinal intentions.<br/> +<br/> +When Rufe reached the tanyard, Birt was still at work. He turned +and looked eagerly at the juvenile ambassador.<br/> +<br/> +“Did Nate gin ye a word fur me?” he called sonorously, above +the clamor of the noisy bark-mill.<br/> +<br/> +“He say he’ll be hyar ter-morrer by sun-up!” piped +out Rufe, in a blatant treble.<br/> +<br/> +A lie seemed less reprehensible when he was obliged to labor so conscientiously +to make it heard.<br/> +<br/> +And then compunction seized him. He sat down by Tennessee on a +pile of bark, and took off his old wool hat to mop the cold perspiration +that had started on his head and face. He felt sick, and sad, +and extremely wicked, - a sorry contrast to Birt, who was so honest +and reliable and, as his mother always said, “ez stiddy ez the +mounting.” Birt was beginning to unharness the mule, for +the day’s work was at an end.<br/> +<br/> +The dusk had deepened to darkness. The woods were full of gloom. +A timorous star palpitated in the sky. In the sudden stillness +when the bark-mill ceased its whir, the mountain torrent hard by lifted +a mystic chant. The drone of the katydid vibrated in the laurel, +and the shrill-voiced cricket chirped. Two of the men were in +the shed examining a green hide by the light of a perforated tin lantern, +that seemed to spill the rays in glinting white rills. As they +flickered across the pile of bark where Rufe and Tennessee were sitting, +he noticed how alert Birt looked, how bright his eyes were.<br/> +<br/> +For Birt’s hopes were suddenly renewed. He thought that +some mischance had detained Nate to-day, and that he would come to-morrow +to work at the bark-mill.<br/> +<br/> +The boy’s blood tingled at the prospect of being free to seek +for treasure down the ravine. He began to feel that he had been +too quick to distrust his friend. Perhaps the stipulation that +Nate should not go to the ravine until the work commenced was more than +he ought to have asked. And perhaps, too, the trespasser was not +Nate! The traces of shallow delving might have been left by another +hand. Birt paused reflectively in unharnessing the mule. +He stood with the gear in one hand, serious and anxious, in view of +the possibility that this discovery was not his alone.<br/> +<br/> +Then he strove to cast aside the thought. He said to himself that +he had been hasty in concluding that the slight excavation argued human +presence in that lonely spot; a rock dislodged and rolling heavily down +the gorge might have thus scraped into the sand and gravel; or perhaps +some burrowing animal, prospecting for winter quarters, had begun to +dig a hole under the bowlder.<br/> +<br/> +He was perplexed, despite his plausible reasoning, and he continued +silent and preoccupied when he lifted Tennessee to his shoulder and +trudged off homeward, with Rufe at his heels, and the small boy’s +conscience following sturdily in the rear.<br/> +<br/> +That sternly accusing conscience! Rufe was dismayed, when he sat +with the other laughing children about the table, to know that his soul +was not merry. Sometimes a sombre shadow fell upon his face, and +once Birt asked him what was the matter. And though he laughed +more than ever, he felt it was very hard to be gay without the subtle +essence of mirth. That lie! - it seemed to grow; before supper +was over it was as big as the warping-bars, and when they all sat in +a semicircle in the open passage, Rufe felt that his conscience was +the most prominent member of the party. The young moon sank; the +night waxed darker still; the woods murmured mysteriously. And +he was glad enough at last to be sent to bed, where after so long a +time sleep found him.<br/> +<br/> +The morrow came in a cloud. The light lacked the sunshine. +The listless air lacked the wind. Still and sombre, the woods +touched the murky, motionless sky. All the universe seemed to +hold a sullen pause. Time was afoot - it always is - but Birt +might not know how it sped; no shadows on the spent tan this dark day! +Over his shoulder he was forever glancing, hoping that Nate would presently +appear from the woods. He saw only the mists lurking in the laurel; +they had autumnal presage and a chill presence. He buttoned his +coat about him, and the old mule sneezed as he jogged round the bark-mill.<br/> +<br/> +Jubal Perkins and a crony stood smoking much of the time to-day in the +door of the house, looking idly out upon the brown stretch of spent +bark, and the gray, weather-beaten sheds, and the dun sky, and the shadowy, +mist-veiled woods. The tanner was a tall, muscular man, clad in +brown jeans, and with boots of a fair grade of leather drawn high over +his trousers. As he often remarked, “The tanyard owes <i>me</i> +good foot-gear - ef the rest o’ the mounting hev ter go barefoot.” +The expression of his face was somewhat masked by a heavy grizzled beard, +but from beneath the wide brim of his hat his eyes peered out with a +jocose twinkle. His mouth seemed chiefly useful as a receptacle +for his pipe-stem, for he spoke through his nose. His voice was +strident on the air, since he included in the conversation a workman +in the shed, who was scraping with a two-handled knife a hide spread +on a wooden horse. This man, whose name was Andrew Byers, glanced +up now and then, elevating a pair of shaggy eyebrows, and settled the +affairs of the nation with diligence and despatch, little hindered by +his labors or the distance.<br/> +<br/> +Birt took no heed of the loud drawling talk. In moody silence +he drove the mule around and around the bark-mill. The patient +old animal, being in no danger of losing his way, closed his eyes drowsily +as he trudged, making the best of it.<br/> +<br/> +“I’ll git ez mild-mannered an’ meek-hearted ez this +hyar old beastis, some day, ef things keep on ez disapp’intin’ +ez they hev been lately,” thought Birt, miserably. “They +do say ez even he used ter be a turrible kicker.”<br/> +<br/> +Noon came and went, and still the mists hung in the forest closely engirdling +the little clearing. The roofs glistened with moisture, and the +eaves dripped. A crow was cawing somewhere. Birt had paused +to let the mule rest, and the raucous sound caused him to turn his head. +His heart gave a bound when he saw that on the other side of the fence +the underbrush was astir along the path which wound through the woods +to the tanyard. Somebody was coming; he hoped even yet that it +might be Nate. He eagerly watched the rustling boughs. The +crow had flown, but he heard as he waited a faint “caw! caw!” +in the misty distance. Whoever the newcomer might be, he certainly +loitered. At last the leaves parted, and revealed - Rufe.<br/> +<br/> +Birt’s first sensation was renewed disappointment. Then +he was disposed to investigate the mystery of Nate’s non-appearance.<br/> +<br/> +“Hello, Rufe!” he called out, as soon as the small boy was +inside the tanyard, “be you-uns <i>sure</i> ez Nate said he’d +come over by sun-up?”<br/> +<br/> +Rufe halted and gazed about him, endeavoring to conjure an expression +of surprise into his freckled face. He even opened his mouth to +exhibit astonishment - exhibiting chiefly that equivocal tongue, and +a large assortment of jagged squirrel teeth.<br/> +<br/> +“Hain’t Nate come yit?” he ventured.<br/> +<br/> +The tanner suddenly put into the conversation.<br/> +<br/> +“War it Nate Griggs ez ye war aimin’ ter trade with ter +take yer place wunst in a while in the tanyard?”<br/> +<br/> +Birt assented. “An’ he ’lowed he’d be +hyar ter-day by sun-up. Rufe brung that word from him yestiddy.”<br/> +<br/> +Rufe’s conscience had given him a recess, during which he had +consumed several horse-apples in considerable complacence and a total +disregard of “yerb tea.” He had climbed a tree, and +sampled a green persimmon, and he endured with fortitude the pucker +in his mouth, since it enabled him to make such faces at Towse as caused +the dog to snap and growl in a frenzy of surprised indignation. +He had fashioned a corn-stalk fiddle - that instrument so dear to rural +children! - and he had been sawing away on it to his own satisfaction +and Tennessee’s unbounded admiration for the last half-hour. +He had forgotten that pursuing conscience till it seized upon him again +in the tanyard.<br/> +<br/> +“Oh, Birt,” he quavered out, suddenly, “I hain’t +laid eyes on Nate.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt exclaimed indignantly, and Jubal Perkins laughed.<br/> +<br/> +“I seen sech a cur’ous lookin’ man, down in the ravine +by the lick, ez it sot me all catawampus!” continued Rufe.<br/> +<br/> +As he told of his defection, and the falsehood with which he had accounted +for it, Jubal Perkins came to a sudden decision.<br/> +<br/> +“Git on that thar mule, Birt, an’ ride over ter Nate’s, +an’ find out what ails him, ef so be ye hanker ter know. +I don’t want nobody workin’ in this hyar tanyard ez looks +ez mournful ez ye do - like ez ef ye hed been buried an’ dug up. +But hurry back, ’kase there ain’t enough bark ground yit, +an’ I hev got other turns o’ work I want ye ter do besides +’fore dark.”<br/> +<br/> +“War that Satan?” asked Rufe abruptly.<br/> +<br/> +“Whar?” exclaimed Birt, startled, and glancing hastily over +his shoulder.<br/> +<br/> +“Down yander by the lick,” plained Rufe.<br/> +<br/> +“Naw!” said Birt, scornfully, “an’ nuthin’ +like Satan, I’ll be bound!”<br/> +<br/> +He was, however, uneasy to hear of any man down the ravine in the neighborhood +of his hidden treasure, but he could not now question Rufe, for Jube +Perkins, with mock severity, was taking the small boy to account.<br/> +<br/> +Byers was looking on, the knife idle in his hands, and his lips distended +with a wide grin in the anticipation of getting some fun out of Rufe.<br/> +<br/> +“Look-a-hyar, bub,” said Jubal Perkins, with both hands +in his pockets and glaring down solemnly at Rufe; “ef ever I ketches +ye goin’ of yerrands no better’n that ag’in, I’m +a-goin’ ter - <i>tan</i> that thar hide o’ yourn.”<br/> +<br/> +Rufe gazed up deprecatingly, his eyes widening at the prospect. +Byers broke into a horse laugh.<br/> +<br/> +“We’ve been wantin’ some leetle varmints fur tanning +ennyhow,” he said. “Ye’ll feel mighty queer +when ye stand out thar on the spent tan, with jes’ yer meat on +yer bones, an ’look up an’ see yer skin a-hangin’ +alongside o’ the t’other calves, an’ sech - that ye +will!”<br/> +<br/> +“An’ all the mounting folks will be remarkin’ on it, +too,” said Perkins. Which no doubt they would have done +with a lively interest.<br/> +<br/> +“I reckon,” said Byers, looking speculatively at Rufe, “ez’t +would take a right smart time fur ye ter git tough enough ter go ’bout +in respect’ble society ag’in. ’T would hurt +ye mightily, I’m thinkin’. Ef I war you-uns, I’d +be powerful partic’lar ter keep inside o’ sech an accommodatin’-lookin’ +little hide ez yourn be fur tanning.”<br/> +<br/> +Rufe’s countenance was distorted. He seemed about to tune +up and whimper. “An’ ef I war you-uns, Andy Byers, +I’d find su’thin’ better ter do’n ter bait an’ +badger a critter the size o’ Rufe!” exclaimed Birt angrily.<br/> +<br/> +“That thar boy’s ’bout right, too!” said the +man who had hitherto been standing silent in the door.<br/> +<br/> +“Waal, leave Rufe be, Jubal!” said Byers, laughing. +“<i>Ye</i> started the fun.”<br/> +<br/> +“Leave him be, yerself,” retorted the tanner.<br/> +<br/> +When Birt mounted the mule, and rode out of the yard, he glanced back +and saw that Rufe had approached the shed; judging by his gestures, +he was asking a variety of questions touching the art of tanning, to +which Byers amicably responded.<br/> +<br/> +The mists were shifting as Birt went on and on. He heard the acorns +dropping from the chestnut-oaks - sign that the wind was awake in the +woods. Like a glittering, polished blade, at last a slanting sunbeam +fell. It split the gloom, and a radiant afternoon seemed to emerge. +The moist leaves shone; far down the aisles of the woods the fugitive +mists, in elusive dryadic suggestions, chased each other into the distance. +Although the song-birds were all silent, there was a chirping somewhere +- cheerful sound! He had almost reached his destination when a +sudden rustling in the undergrowth by the roadside caused him to turn +and glance back.<br/> +<br/> +Two or three shoats lifted their heads and were gazing at him with surprise, +and a certain disfavor, as if they did not quite like his looks. +A bevy of barefooted, tow-headed children were making mud pies in a +marshy dip close by. An ancient hound, that had renounced the +chase and assumed in his old age the office of tutor, seemed to preside +with dignity and judgment. He, too, had descried the approach +of the stranger. He growled, but made no other demonstration.<br/> +<br/> +“Whar’s Nate?” Birt called out, for these were the +children of Nate’s eldest brother.<br/> +<br/> +For a moment there was no reply. Then the smallest of the small +boys shrilly piped out, “He hev gone away! - him an’ gran’dad’s +claybank mare.”<br/> +<br/> +Another unexpected development! “When will he come back?”<br/> +<br/> +“Ain’t goin’ ter come back fur two weeks.”<br/> +<br/> +“Whar ’bouts hev he gone?” asked Birt amazed.<br/> +<br/> +“Dunno,” responded the same little fellow.<br/> +<br/> +“When did he set out?”<br/> +<br/> +There was a meditative pause. Then ensued a jumbled bickering. +The small boys, the shoats, and the hound seemed to consult together +in the endeavor to distinguish “day ’fore yestiddy” +from “las’ week.” The united intellect of the +party was inadequate.<br/> +<br/> +“Dunno!” the mite of a spokesman at last admitted.<br/> +<br/> +Birt rode on rapidly once more, leaving this choice syndicate settling +down again to the mud pies.<br/> +<br/> +The woods gave way presently and revealed, close to a precipice, Nate’s +home. The log house with its chimney of clay and sticks, the barn +of ruder guise, the fodder-stack, the ash-hopper, and the rail fence +were all imposed in high relief against the crimson west and the purpling +ranges in the distance. The little cabin was quite alone in the +world. No other house, no field, no clearing, was visible in all +the vast expanse of mountains and valleys which it overlooked. +The great panorama of nature seemed to be unrolled for it only. +The seasons passed in review before it. The moon rose, waxing +or waning, as if for its behoof. The sun conserved for it a splendid +state.<br/> +<br/> +But the skies above it had sterner moods, - sometimes lightnings veined +the familiar clouds; winds rioted about it; the thunder spoke close +at hand. And then it was that Mrs. Griggs lamented her husband’s +course in “raisin’ the house hyar so nigh the bluffs ez +ef it war an’ aigle’s nest,” and forgot that she had +ever accounted herself “sifflicated” when distant from the +airy cliffs.<br/> +<br/> +She stood in the doorway now, her arms akimbo - an attitude that makes +a woman of a certain stamp seem more masterful than a man. Her +grizzled locks were ornamented by a cotton cap with a wide and impressive +ruffle, which, swaying and nodding, served to emphasize her remarks. +She was conferring in a loud drawl with her husband, who had let down +the bars to admit his horse, laden with a newly killed deer. Her +manner would seem to imply that she, and not he, had slain the animal.<br/> +<br/> +“Toler’ble fat,” she commented with grave self-complacence. +“He ’minds me sorter o’ that thar tremenjious buck +we hed las’ September. <i>He</i> war the fattes’ buck +I ever see. Take off his hide right straight.”<br/> +<br/> +The big cap-ruffle flapped didactically.<br/> +<br/> +“Lor’-a - massy, woman!” vociferated the testy old +man; “ain’t I a-goin’ ter? Ter hear ye a-jowin’, +a-body would think I had never shot nothin’ likelier’n a +yaller-hammer sence I been born. S’pos’n ye jes’ +takes ter goin’ a-huntin’, an’ skinnin’ deer, +an’ cuttin’ wood, an’ doin’ my work ginerally. +Pears-like ye think ye knows mo’ ’bout’n my work’n +I does. An’ I’ll bide hyar at the house.”<br/> +<br/> +Mrs. Griggs nodded her head capably, in nowise dismayed. “I +dunno but that plan would work mighty well,” she said.<br/> +<br/> +This conjugal colloquy terminated as she glanced up and saw Birt.<br/> +<br/> +“Why, thar’s young Dicey a-hint ye. Howdy Birt! +’Light an’ hitch!”<br/> +<br/> +“Naw’m,” rejoined Birt, as he rode into the enclosure +and close up to the doorstep. “I hain’t got time ter +’light.” Then precipitately opening the subject of +his mission. “I kem over hyar ter see Nate. Whar hev +he disappeared ter?”<br/> +<br/> +“Waal, now, that’s jes’ what I’d like ter know,” +she replied, her face eloquent with baffled curiosity. “He +jes’ borried his dad’s claybank mare, an’ sot out, +an’ never ’lowed whar he war bound fur. Nate hev turned +twenty-one year old,” she continued, “an’ he ’lows +he air a man growed, an’ obligated ter obey nobody but hisself. +From the headin’ way that he kerries on hyar, a-body would s’pose +he air older ’n the Cumberland Mountings! But he hev turned +twenty-one - that’s a fac’ - an’ he voted at the las’ +election.”<br/> +<br/> +(With how much discretion it need not now be inquired.)<br/> +<br/> +“I knows that air true,” said Birt, who had wistfully admired +this feat of his senior.<br/> +<br/> +“Waal - Nate don’t set much store by votin’,” +rejoined Mrs. Griggs. “Nate, he say, the greatest privilege +his kentry kin confer on him is ter make it capital punishment fur wimmen +ter ax him questions! - Which I hev done,” she admitted stoutly.<br/> +<br/> +And the ruffle on her cap did not deny it.<br/> +<br/> +“Nate air twenty-one,” she reiterated. “An’ +I s’pose he ’lows ez I hev no call nowadays ter be his mother.”<br/> +<br/> +“Hain’t ye got no guess whar he be gone?” asked Birt, +dismayed by this strange new complication.<br/> +<br/> +“Waal, I hev been studyin’ it out ez Nate mought hev rid +ter Parch Corn, whar his great-uncle, Joshua Peters, lives - him that +merried my aunt, Melissy Baker, ez war a widder then, though born a +Scruggs. An’ then, ag’in, Nate <i>mought</i> hev tuk +it inter his head ter go ter the Cross-roads, a-courtin’ a gal +thar ez he hev been talkin’ about powerful, lately. But +they tells me,” Mrs. Griggs expostulated, as it were, “that +them gals at the Cross-roads is in no way desirable, - specially this +hyar Elviry Mills, ez mighty nigh all the boys on the mounting hev los’ +thar wits about, - what little wits ez they ever hed ter lose, I mean +ter say. But Nate thinks he hev got a right ter a ch’ice, +bein’ ez he air turned twenty-one.”<br/> +<br/> +“Did he say when he ’lowed ter come back?” Birt asked.<br/> +<br/> +“‘Bout two or three weeks Nate laid off ter be away; but +whar he hev gone, an’ what’s his yerrand, he let no human +know,” returned Mrs. Griggs. “I hev been powerful +aggervated ’bout this caper o’ Nate’s. I ain’t +afeard he’ll git hisself hurt no ways whilst he be gone, for Nate +is mighty apt ter take keer o’ Nate.” She nodded her +head convincingly, and the great ruffle on her cap shook in corroboration. +“But I hain’t never hed the right medjure o’ respec’ +out’n Nate, an’ his dad hain’t, nuther.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt listened vaguely to this account of his friend’s filial shortcomings, +his absent eyes fixed upon the wide landscape, and his mind busy with +the anxious problems of Nate’s broken promises.<br/> +<br/> +And the big red ball of the setting sun seemed at last to roll off the +plane of the horizon, and it disappeared amidst the fiery emblazonment +of clouds with which it had enriched the west. But all the world +was not so splendid; midway below the dark purple summits a dun, opaque +vapor asserted itself in dreary, aerial suspension. Beneath it +he could see a file of cows, homeward bound, along the road that encircled +the mountain’s base. He heard them low, and this reminded +him that night was near, for all that the zenith was azure, and for +all that the west was aglow. And he remembered he had a good many +odd jobs to do before dark. And so he turned his face homeward.<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +CHAPTER V.<br/> +<br/> +Birt had always been held in high esteem by the men at the tanyard. +Suddenly, however, the feeling toward him cooled. He remembered +afterward, although at the time he was too absorbed to fully appreciate +it, that this change began one day shortly after he had learned of Nate’s +departure. As he went mechanically about his work, he was pondering +futilely upon his friend’s mysterious journey, and his tantalizing +hopes lying untried in the depths of the ravine. He hardly noticed +the conversation of the men until something was said that touched upon +the wish nearest his heart.<br/> +<br/> +“I war studyin’ ’bout lettin’ Birt hev a day +off,” said the tanner. “An’ ye’ll bide +hyar.”<br/> +<br/> +“Naw, Jube - naw!” Andy Byers replied with stalwart independence +to his employer. “I hev laid off ter attend. Ef ye +want ennybody ter bide with the tanyard, an’ keer fur this hyar +pit, ye kin do it yerse’f, or else Birt kin. <i>I</i> hev +laid off ter attend.”<br/> +<br/> +Andy Byers was a man of moods. His shaggy eyebrows to-day overshadowed +eyes sombre and austere. He seemed, if possible, a little slower +than was his wont. He bore himself with a sour solemnity, and +he was at once irritable and dejected.<br/> +<br/> +“Shucks, Andy! ye knows ye ain’t no kin sca’cely ter +the old woman; ye couldn’t count out how ye air kin ter her ter +save yer life. Now, <i>I</i>’m obleeged ter attend.”<br/> +<br/> +It so happened that the tanner’s great-aunt was distantly related +to Andy Byers. Being ill, and an extremely old woman, she was +supposed to be lying at the point of death, and her kindred had been +summoned to hear her last words.<br/> +<br/> +“I hed ’lowed ter gin Birt a day off, ’kase I hev +got ter hev the mule in the wagon, an’ he can’t grind bark. +I <i>promised</i> Birt a day off,” the tanner continued.<br/> +<br/> +“That thar’s twixt ye an’ Birt. I hain’t +got no call ter meddle,” said the obdurate Byers. “Ye +kin bide with the tanyard an’ finish this job yerse’f, of +so minded. I’m goin’ ter attend.”<br/> +<br/> +“I reckon half the kentry-side will be thar, an’ <i>I</i> +wants ter see the folks,” said Jubal Perkins, cheerfully.<br/> +<br/> +“Then Birt will hev ter bide with the tanyard, an’ finish +this job. It don’t lie with me ter gin him a day off. +I don’t keer ef he never gits a day off,” said Byers.<br/> +<br/> +This was an unnecessarily unkind speech, and Birt’s anger flamed +out.<br/> +<br/> +“Ef we-uns war of a size, Andy Byers,” he said, hotly, “I’d +make ye divide work a leetle more ekal than ye does.”<br/> +<br/> +Andy Byers dropped the hide in his hands, and looked steadily across +the pit at Birt, as if he were taking the boy’s measure.<br/> +<br/> +“Ye mean ter say ef ye hed the bone an’ muscle ye’d +knock me down, do ye?” he sneered. “Waal, I’ll +take the will fur the deed. I’ll hold the grudge agin ye, +jes’ the same.”<br/> +<br/> +They were all three busied about the pit. The hides had been taken +out, and stratified anew, with layers of fresh tan, reversing the original +order, - those that had been at the bottom now being placed at the top. +The operation was almost complete before Jubal Perkins received the +news of his relative’s precarious condition. He had no doubt +that Birt was able to finish it properly, and the boy’s conscientious +habit of doing his best served to make the tanner’s mind quite +easy. As to the day off, he was glad to have that question settled +by a quarrel between his employees, thus relieving him of responsibility.<br/> +<br/> +Birt’s wrath was always evanescent, and he was sorry a moment +afterward for what he had said. Andy Byers exchanged no more words +with him, and skillfully combined a curt and crusty manner toward him +with an aspect of contemplative dreariness. Occasionally, as they +paused to rest, Byers would sigh deeply.<br/> +<br/> +“A mighty good old woman, Mrs. Price war.” He spoke +as if she were already dead. “A mighty good old woman, though +small-sized.”<br/> +<br/> +“A little of her went a long way. She war eighty-four year +old, an’ kep’ a sharp tongue in her head ter the las’,” +rejoined the tanner, adopting in turn the past tense.<br/> +<br/> +Rufe listened with startled interest. Now and then he cocked up +his speculative eyes, and gazed fixedly into the preternaturally solemn +face of Byers, who reiterated, “A good old woman, though small-sized.”<br/> +<br/> +With this unaccustomed absorption Rufe’s accomplishment of getting +under-foot became pronounced. The tanner jostled him more than +once, Birt stumbled against his toes, and Byers, suddenly turning, ran +quite over him. Rufe had not far to fall, but Byers was a tall +man. His arms swayed like the sails of a windmill in the effort +to recover his balance. He was in danger of toppling into the +pit, and in fact only caught himself on his knees at its verge.<br/> +<br/> +“Ye torment!” he roared angrily, as he struggled to his +feet. “G’way from hyar, or I’ll skeer ye out’n +yer wits!”<br/> +<br/> +The small boy ruefully gathered his members together, and after the +men had started on their journey he sat down on a pile of wood hard +by to give Birt his opinion of Andy Byers.<br/> +<br/> +“He air a toler’ble mean man, ain’t he, Birt?”<br/> +<br/> +But Birt said he had no mind to talk about Andy Byers.<br/> +<br/> +“<i>Skeer me</i>!” exclaimed Rufe, doughtily. “It +takes a heap ter skeer <i>Me</i>!”<br/> +<br/> +He got up presently, and going into the shed began to examine the tools +of the trade which were lying there. He had the two-handled knife, +with which he was about to try his skill on a hide that was stretched +over the beam of the wooden horse, when Birt glanced up and came hastily +to the rescue. Rufe was disposed to further investigate the appliances +of the tanyard left defenseless at his mercy, but at last Birt prevailed +on him to go home and play with Tennessee, and was glad enough to see +his tow-head, with his old hat perched precariously on it, bobbing up +and down among the low bushes, as he wended his way along the path through +the woods.<br/> +<br/> +The hides had all been replaced between layers of fresh tan before the +men left, and Birt had only to fill up the space above with a thicker +layer, ten or fifteen inches deep, and put the boards securely across +the top of the pit, with heavy stones upon them to weight them down. +But this kept him busy all the rest of the afternoon.<br/> +<br/> +Rufe was pretty busy too. When he came in sight of home Tennessee +was the first object visible in the open passage. The sunshine +slanted through it under the dusky roof, and the shadows of the chestnut-oak, +hard by, dappled the floor. Lying there was an old Mexican saddle, +for which there was no use since the horse had died. Tennessee +was mounted upon it, the reins in her hands, the headstall and bit poised +on the peaked pommel. She jounced back and forth, and the skirts +of the saddle flapped and the stirrups clanked on the floor, and the +absorbed eyes of the little mountaineer were fixed on space.<br/> +<br/> +Away and away she cantered on some splendid imaginary palfrey, through +scenes where conjecture fails to follow her: a land, doubtless, where +all the winds blow fair, and sparkling waters run, and jeopardy delights, +and fancy’s license prevails - all very different, you may be +sure, from the facts, an old saddle on a puncheon floor, and a little +black-eyed mountaineer.<br/> +<br/> +How far Tennessee journeyed, and how long she was gone, it is impossible +to say. She halted suddenly when her attention was attracted to +a phenomenon within one of the rooms.<br/> +<br/> +The door was ajar and the solitary Rufe was visible in the dusky vista. +He stood before a large wooden chest. He had lifted the lid, and +kept it up by resting it upon his head, bent forward for the purpose, +while he rummaged the contents with vandal hands.<br/> +<br/> +Tennessee stared at him, with indignant surprise gathering in her widening +eyes.<br/> +<br/> +Now that chest contained, besides a meagre store of quilts and comforts, +her own and her mother’s clothes, the fewer garments of the boys +of the family being alternately suspended on the clothes-line and their +own frames. She resented the sacrilege of Rufe’s invasion +of that chest. She turned on the saddle and looked around with +an air of appeal. Her mother, however, was down the hill beside +the spring, busy boiling soap, and quite out of hearing. Tennessee +gazed vaguely for a moment at the great kettle with the red and yellow +flames curling around it, and her mother’s figure hovering over +it. Then she looked back at Rufe.<br/> +<br/> +He continued industriously churning up the contents of the chest, the +lid still poised upon that head that served so many other useful purposes +- for the gymnastic exhibition involved in standing on it; for his extraordinary +mental processes; for a lodgment for his old wool hat, and a field for +his crop of flaxen hair.<br/> +<br/> +All the instinct of the proprietor was roused within Tennessee. +She found her voice, a hoarse, infantile wheeze.<br/> +<br/> +“Tum out’n chist!” she exclaimed, gutturally. +“Tum out’n chist!”<br/> +<br/> +Rufe turned his tow-head slowly, that he might not disturb the poise +of the lid of the chest resting upon it. He fixed a solemn stare +on Tennessee, and drawing one hand from the depths of the chest, he +silently shook his fist. And then he resumed his researches.<br/> +<br/> +Tennessee, alarmed by this impressive demonstration, dismounted hastily +from the saddle as soon as his threatening gaze was withdrawn. +She tangled her feet in the stirrups and her hands in the reins, and +lost more time in scrambling off the floor of the passage and down upon +the ground; but at last she was fairly on her way to the spring to convey +an account to her mother of the outlaw in the chest. In fact, +she was not far from the scene of the soap-boiling when she heard her +name shouted in stentorian tones, and pausing to look back, she saw +Rufe gleefully capering about in the passage, the headstall on his own +head, the bit hanging on his breast, and the reins dangling at his heels.<br/> +<br/> +Now this beguilement the little girl could never withstand, and indeed +few people ever had the opportunity to drive so frisky and high-spirited +a horse as Rufe was when he consented to assume the bit and bridle. +He was rarely so accommodating, as he preferred the role of driver, +with what he called “a pop-lash<i>ee</i>!” at command. +She forgot her tell-tale mission. She turned with a gurgle of +delight and began to toddle up the hill again. And presently Mrs. +Dicey, glancing toward the house, saw them playing together in great +amity, and rejoiced that they gave her so little trouble.<br/> +<br/> +They were still at it when Birt came home, but then Tennessee was tired +of driving, and he let her go with him to the wood-pile and sit on a +log while he swung the axe. No one took special notice of Rufe’s +movements in the interval before supper. He disappeared for a +time, but when the circle gathered around the table he was in his place +and by no means a non-combatant in the general onslaught on the corn-dodgers. +Afterward he came out in the passage and sat quietly among the others.<br/> +<br/> +The freshened air was fragrant, and how the crickets were chirring in +the grass! On every spear the dew was a-glimmer, for a lustrous +moon shone from the sky. Somehow, despite the long roads of light +that this splendid pioneer blazed out in the wilderness, it seemed only +to reveal the loneliness of the forests, and to give new meaning to +the solemnity of the shadows. The heart was astir with some responsive +thrill that jarred vaguely, and was pain. Yet the night had its +melancholy fascination, and they were all awake later than usual. +When at last the doors were barred, and the house grew still, and even +the vigilant Towse had ceased to bay and had lodged himself under the +floor of the passage, the moon still shone in isolated effulgence, for +the faint stars faded before it.<br/> +<br/> +The knowledge that in all the vast stretch of mountain fastnesses he +was the only human creature that beheld it, as it majestically crossed +the meridian, gave Andy Byers a forlorn feeling, while tramping along +homeward. He had made the journey afoot, some eight miles down +the valley, and was later far in returning than others who had heeded +the summons of the sick woman. For she still lay in the same critical +condition, and his mind was full of dismal forebodings as he toiled +along the road on the mountain’s brow. The dark woods were +veined with shimmering silver. The mists, hovering here and there, +showed now a blue and now an amber gleam as the moon’s rays conjured +them. On one side of the road an oak tree had been uptorn in a +wind-storm; the roots, carrying a great mass of earth with them, were +thrust high in the air, while the bole and leafless branches lay prone +along the ground. This served as a break in the density of the +forest, and the white moonshine possessed the vacant space.<br/> +<br/> +As he glanced in that direction his heart gave a great bound, then seemed +suddenly to stand still. There, close to the verge of the road, +as if she had stepped aside to let him pass, was the figure of an old +woman - a small-sized woman, tremulous and bent. It looked like +old Mrs. Price! As he paused amazed, with starting eyes and failing +limbs, the wind fluttered her shawl and her ample sunbonnet. This +shielded her face and he could not see her features. Her head +seemed to turn toward him. The next instant it nodded at him familiarly.<br/> +<br/> +To the superstitions mountaineer this suggested that the old woman had +died since he had left her house, and here was her ghost already vagrant +in the woods!<br/> +<br/> +The foolish fellow did not wait to put this fancy to the test. +With a piercing cry he sprang past, and fled like a frightened deer +through the wilderness homeward.<br/> +<br/> +In his own house he hardly felt more secure. He could not rest +- he could not sleep. He stirred the embers with a trembling hand, +and sat shivering over them. His wife, willing enough to believe +in “harnts”* as appearing to other people, was disposed +to repudiate them when they presumed to offer their dubious association +to members of her own family circle.<br/> +<br/> +* Ghosts.<br/> +<br/> +“Dell-law!” she exclaimed scornfully. “I say +harnt! Old Mrs. Price, though spry ter the las’, war so +proud o’ her age an’ her ailments that she wouldn’t +hev nobody see her walk a step, or stand on her feet, fur nuthin’. +Her darter-in-law tole me ez the only way ter find out how nimble she +really be war ter box one o’ her gran’chill’n, an’ +then she’d bounce out’n her cheer, an’ jounce round +the room after thar daddy or mammy, whichever hed boxed the chill’n. +That fursaken couple always hed ter drag thar chill’n out in the +woods, out’n earshot of the house, ter whip ’em, an’ +then threat ’em ef they dare let thar granny know they hed been +struck. But elsewise she hed ter be lifted from her bed ter her +cheer by the h’a’th. She wouldn’t hev <i>her</i> +sperit seen a-walkin’ way up hyar a-top o’ the mounting, +like enny healthy harnt, fur nuthin’ in this worl’. +Whatever ’twar, ’twarn’t <i>her</i>. An’ +I reckon of the truth war knowed, ’twarn’t nuthin’ +at all - forg, mebbe.”<br/> +<br/> +This stalwart reasoning served to steady his nerves a little. +And when the moon went down and the day was slowly breaking, he took +his way, with a vacillating intention and many a chilling doubt, along +the winding road to the scene of his fright.<br/> +<br/> +It was not yet time by a good hour or more to go to work, and nothing +was stirring. A wan light was on the landscape when he came in +sight of the great tree prone upon the ground. And there, close +to the edge of the road, as if she had stepped aside to let him pass, +was the figure of a little, bent old woman - nay, in the brightening +dawn, a bush - a blackberry bush, clad in a blue-checked apron, a red +plaid shawl, and with a neat sunbonnet nodding on its topmost spray.<br/> +<br/> +His first emotion was intense relief. Then he stood staring at +the bush in rising indignation. This sandy by-way of a road led +only to his own house, and this image of a small and bent old woman +had doubtless been devised, to terrify him, by some one who knew of +his mission, and that he could not return except by this route.<br/> +<br/> +Only for a moment did he feel uncertain as to the ghost-maker’s +identity. There was something singularly familiar to him in the +plaid of the shawl - even in the appearance of the bonnet, although +it was now limp and damp. He saw it at “meet’n” +whenever the circuit rider preached, and he presently recognized it. +This was Mrs. Dicey’s bonnet!<br/> +<br/> +His face hardened. He set his teeth together. An angry flush +flared to the roots of his hair.<br/> +<br/> +Not that he suspected the widow of having set this trap to frighten +him. He was not learned, nor versed in feminine idiosyncrasies, +but it does not require much wisdom to know that on no account whatever +does a woman’s best bonnet stay out all night in the dew, intentionally. +The presence of her bonnet proved the widow’s <i>alibi</i>.<br/> +<br/> +Like a flash he remembered Birt’s anger the previous day. +“Told me he’d make me divide work mo’ ekal, an’ +ez good ez said he’d knock me down ef he could. An’ +I told him I’d hold the grudge agin him jes’ the same - +an’ I will!”<br/> +<br/> +He felt sure that it was Birt who had thus taken revenge, because he +was kept at work while his fellow-laborer was free to go.<br/> +<br/> +Byers thought the boy would presently come to take the garments home, +and conceal his share in the matter, before any one else would be likely +to stir abroad.<br/> +<br/> +“An’ I’ll hide close by with a good big hickory stick, +an’ I’ll gin him a larrupin’ ez he won’t furgit +in a month o’ Sundays,” he resolved, angrily.<br/> +<br/> +He opened his clasp-knife, and walked slowly into the woods, looking +about for a choice hickory sprout. He did not at once find one +of a size that he considered appropriate to the magnitude of Birt’s +wickedness, and he went further perhaps than he realized, and stayed +longer.<br/> +<br/> +He had a smile of stern satisfaction on his face when he was lopping +off the leaves and twigs of a specimen admirably adapted for vengeance. +He was stealthy in returning, keeping behind the trees, and slipping +softly from bole to bole. At last, as the winding road was once +more in view, he crouched down behind the roots of the great fallen +oak.<br/> +<br/> +“I don’t want him ter git a glimge of me, an’ skeer +him off afore I kin lay a-holt on him,” he said.<br/> +<br/> +He intended to keep the neighboring bush under close watch, and through +the interlacing roots he peered out furtively at it. His eyes +distended and he hastily rose from his hiding-place.<br/> +<br/> +The blackberry bush was swaying in the wind, clothed only in its own +scant and rusty leaves. A wren perched on a spray, chirped cheerful +matins.<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +CHAPTER VI.<br/> +<br/> +His scheme was thwarted. The boy had come and gone in his absence, +all unaware of his proximity and the impending punishment so narrowly +escaped.<br/> +<br/> +But when Andy Byers reached the tanyard and went to work, he said nothing +to Birt. He did not even allude to the counterfeit apparition +in the woods, although Mrs. Price’s probable recovery was more +than once under discussion among the men who came and went, - indeed, +she lived many years thereafter, to defend her lucky grandchildren against +every device of discipline. Byers had given heed to more crafty +counsels. On the whole he was now glad that he had not had the +opportunity to make Birt and the hickory sprout acquainted with each +other. This would be an acknowledgment that he had been terrified +by the manufactured ghost, and he preferred foregoing open revenge to +encountering the jocose tanner’s ridicule, and the gibes that +would circulate at his expense throughout the country-side. But +he cherished the grievance, and he resolved that Birt should rue it. +He had expected that Birt would boast of having frightened him. +He intended to admit that he had been a trifle startled, and in treating +the matter thus lightly he hoped it would seem that the apparition was +a failure.<br/> +<br/> +However, day by day passed and nothing was said. The ghost vanished +as mysteriously as it had come. Only Mrs. Dicey, taking her bonnet +and apron and shawl from the chest, was amazed at the extraordinary +manner in which they were folded and at their limp condition, and when +she found a bunch of cockle-burs in the worsted fringes of the shawl +she declared that witches must have had it, for she had not worn it +since early in April when there were no cockle-burs. She forthwith +nailed a horseshoe on the door to keep the witches out, and she never +liked the shawl so well after she had projected a mental picture of +a lady wearing it, riding on a broomstick, and sporting also a long +peaked nose.<br/> +<br/> +Birt hardly noticed the crusty and ungracious conduct of Andy Byers +toward him. He worked on doggedly, scheming all the time to get +off from the tanyard, and wondering again and again why Nate had gone, +and where, and when he would return.<br/> +<br/> +One day - a gray day it was and threatening rain - as he came suddenly +out of the shed, he saw a boy at the bars. It was Nate Griggs! +No; only for a moment he thought this was Nate. But this fellow’s +eyes were not so close together; his hair was less sandy; there were +no facial indications of extreme slyness. It was only Nathan’s +humble likeness, his younger brother, Timothy.<br/> +<br/> +He had Nate’s coat thrown over his arm, and he shouldered his +brother’s rifle.<br/> +<br/> +Tim came slouching slowly into the tanyard, a good-natured grin on his +face. He paused only to knock Rufe’s hat over his eyes, +as the small boy stood in front of the low-spirited mule, both hands +busy with the animal’s mouth, striving to open his jaws to judge +by his teeth how old he might be.<br/> +<br/> +“The critter’ll bite ye, Rufe!” Birt exclaimed, for +as Rufe stooped to pick up his hat the mule showed some curiosity in +his turn, and was snuffling at Rufe’s hay-colored hair.<br/> +<br/> +Rufe readjusted his head-gear, and ceasing his impolite researches into +the mule’s age, came up to the other two boys. Tim had paused +by the shed, and leaning upon the rifle, began to talk.<br/> +<br/> +“I war a-passin’ by, an’ I thought I’d drap +in on ye.”<br/> +<br/> +“Hev you-uns hearn from Nate since he hev been gone away?” +demanded Birt anxiously.<br/> +<br/> +“He hev come home,” responded Tim.<br/> +<br/> +“When did he git home?” Birt asked with increasing suspicion.<br/> +<br/> +“Las’ week,” said Tim carelessly.<br/> +<br/> +Another problem! Why had Nate not communicated with his partner +about their proposed work? It seemed a special avoidance.<br/> +<br/> +“I onderstood ez how he aimed ter bide away longer,” Birt +remarked.<br/> +<br/> +“He did count on stayin’ longer,” said Tim, “but +he rid night an’ day ter git hyar sooner. It ’pears +like ter me he war in sech a hurry so ez ter start <i>me</i> ter work, +and nuthin’ else in this worl’. I owe Nate a debt, +ye see, an’ I hev ter work it out. I hev been so onlucky +ez I couldn’t make out ter pay him nohow in the worl’. +Ye see, I traded with Nate fur a shoat, an’ the spiteful beastis +sneaked out’n my pen, an’ went rootin’ round the aidge +o’ the clearin’, an’ war toted off bodaciously by +a bar ez war a-prowlin’ round thar. An’ I got no good +o’ that thar shoat, ’kase the bar hed him, but I hed to +pay fur him all the same. An’ dad gin his cornsent ter Nate +ter let me work a month an’ better fur him, ter pay out’n +debt fur the shoat.”<br/> +<br/> +“What work be you-uns goin’ ter do?” Birt had +a strong impression, amounting to a conviction, that there was something +behind all this, which he was slowly approaching.<br/> +<br/> +“Why,” said Tim, in surprise, “hain’t ye hearn +bout’n Nate’s new land what he hev jes’ got ‘entered’ +ez he calls it? He hev got a grant fur it from the land-office +down yander in Sparty, whar he hev been.”<br/> +<br/> +“New land - ’<i>entered</i>!’” faltered Birt.<br/> +<br/> +Tim nodded. “Nate fund a trac’ o’ land a-layin’ +ter suit his mind what b’longed ter nobody but the State - vacant +land, ye see - an’ so he went ter the ‘entry-taker,’ +they calls him, an’ gits it ‘entered,’ an’ the +surveyor kem an’ medjured it, an’ then Nate got a grant +fur it, an’ now it air his’n. The Gov’nor o’ +the State hev sot his name ter that thar grant - the Gov’nor o’ +Tennessee!” reiterated Tim pridefully. “An’ +the great seal o’ the State!”<br/> +<br/> +“Whar be the land?” gasped Birt, possessed by a dreadful +fear.<br/> +<br/> +His face was white, its muscles rigid. Its altered expression +could not for an instant have escaped the notice of Timothy’s +brother Nathan.<br/> +<br/> +“Why, it lays bout’n haffen mile off - all down the ravine +nigh that thar salt-lick; but look-a-hyar, Birt - what ails ye?”<br/> +<br/> +The stunned despair in the white face had at last arrested his careless +attention.<br/> +<br/> +“Don’t ye be mindin’ of me - I feel sorter porely +an’ sick all of a suddint; tell on ’bout the land an’ +sech,” said Birt.<br/> +<br/> +He sat down on the end of the wood-pile, and Tim, still leaning on the +rifle, recommenced. He was generally much cowed and kept down +by Nate, and was unaccustomed to respect and consideration. Therefore +he felt a certain gratification in having so attentive a listener.<br/> +<br/> +“Waal, I never hearn o’ this fashion o’ enterin’ +land like Nate done in all my life afore; though dad say that’s +the law in Tennessee, ter git a title ter vacant land ez jes’ +b’longs ter the State. Mebbe them air the ways ez Nate l’arned +whilst he war a-hangin’ round the Settlemint so constant, an’ +forever talkin’ ter the men thar.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt’s precocity had never let him feel at a disadvantage with +Nate, although his friend was five years older. Now he began to +appreciate that Nate was indeed a man grown, and had become sophisticated +in the ways of his primitive world by his association with the other +men at the Settlement.<br/> +<br/> +There was a pause. But the luxury of being allowed to talk without +contradiction or rebuke presently induced Tim to proceed.<br/> +<br/> +“He war hyar mighty nigh all day long,” he said reflectively. +“He eat his dinner along of we-uns.”<br/> +<br/> +“Who? the Gov’nor o’ the State?” exclaimed Birt, +astounded.<br/> +<br/> +“Naw, ’twarn’t <i>him</i>,” Tim admitted somewhat +reluctantly, since Birt seemed disposed to credit “we-uns” +with a gubernatorial guest. “It’s the surveyor I’m +talkin’ ’bout. Nate hed ter pay him three dollars +an’ better fur medjurin’ the land. He tole Nate ez +his land war ez steep an’ rocky a spot ez thar war in Tennessee +from e-end ter e-end. He axed Nate what ailed him ter hanker ter +pay taxes on sech a pack o’ bowlders an’ bresh. He +’lowed the land warn’t wuth a cent an acre.”<br/> +<br/> +“What did Nate say?” asked Birt, who hung with feverish +interest on every thoughtless word.<br/> +<br/> +“Waal, Nate ’lows ez he hev fund a cur’ous metal on +his land; he say it air <i>gold</i>!” Tim opened his eyes +very wide, and smacked his lips, as if the word tasted good. “He +’lowed ez he needn’t hev been in sech a hurry ter enter +his land, ’kase the entry-taker told it ter him ez it air the +law in Tennessee ez ennybody ez finds a mine or val’able min’ral +on vacant land hev got six months extry ter enter the land afore ennybody +else kin, an’ ef ennybody else wants ter enter it, they hev ter +gin the finder o’ the mine thirty days’ notice.”<br/> +<br/> +Tim winked, an impressive demonstration but for the insufficiency of +eyelashes: -<br/> +<br/> +“The surveyor he misdoubted, an’ ’lowed ez gold hed +never been fund in these parts. He said they fund gold in them +mountings furder east ’bout twenty odd year ago - in 1831, I believe +he said. He ’lowed them mountings hain’t got no coal +like our’n hev, an’ the Cumberland Mountings hain’t +got no gold. An’ then in a minit he tuk ter misdoubtin’ +on the t’other side o’ his mouth. He ’lowed +ez Nate’s min’ral <i>mought</i> be gold, an’ then +ag’in it moughtn’t.”<br/> +<br/> +The essential difference between these two extremes has afforded scope +for vacillation to more consistent men than the surveyor.<br/> +<br/> +“Thar’s the grant right now, in the pocket o’ Nate’s +coat,” said Tim, shifting the garment on his arm to show a stiff, +white folded paper sticking out of the breast pocket. “I +reckon when he tole me ter tote his gun an’ coat home, he furgot +the grant war in his pocket, ’kase he fairly dotes on it, an’ +won’t trest it out’n his sight.”<br/> +<br/> +Nate was in the habit of exacting similar services from his acquiescent +younger brother, and Tim had his hands full, as he tried to hold the +gun, and turn the coat on his arm. He finally hung the garment +on a peg in the shed, and shouldered the weapon. Suddenly he whirled +around toward Rufe, who was still standing by.<br/> +<br/> +“What in the nation air inside o’ that thar boy?” +he exclaimed. “A chicken, ain’t it?”<br/> +<br/> +For a musical treble chirping was heard proceeding apparently from Rufe’s +pocket. This chicken differed from others that Rufe had put away, +in being alive and hearty.<br/> +<br/> +The small boy entered into the conversation with great spirit, to tell +that a certain hen which he owned had yesterday come off her nest with +fourteen of the spryest deedies that ever stepped. One in especial +had so won upon Rufe by its beauty and grace of deportment that he was +carrying it about with him, feeding it at close intervals, and housing +it in the security of his pocket.<br/> +<br/> +The deedie hardly made a moan. There was no use in remonstrating +with Rufe, - everything that came within his eccentric orbit seemed +to realize that, - and the deedie was contentedly nestling down in his +pocket, apparently resigned to lead the life of a portemonnaie.<br/> +<br/> +Rufe narrated with pardonable pride the fact that, some time before, +his great-uncle, Rufus Dicey, had sent to him from the “valley +kentry” a present of a pair of game chickens, and that this deedie +was from the first egg hatched in the game hen’s brood.<br/> +<br/> +But Rufe was not selfish. He offered to give Tim one of the chicks. +Now poultry was Tim’s weakness. He accepted with more haste +than was seemly, and at once asked for the deedie in the small boy’s +pocket. Rufe, however, refused to part from the chick of his adoption, +and presently Tim, with the gun on his shoulder, left the tanyard in +company with Rufe, to look over the brood of game chicks, and make a +selection from among them.<br/> +<br/> +Birt hardly noticed what they did or said. Every faculty was absorbed +in considering the wily game which his false friend had played so successfully. +It was all plain enough now. The fruit of his discovery would +be plucked by other hands. There was to be no division of the +profits. Nate Griggs had coveted the whole. His craft had +secured it for himself alone. He had the legal title to the land, +the mine - all! There seemed absolutely no vulnerable point in +his scheme. With suddenly sharpened perceptions, Birt realized +that if he should now claim the discovery and the consequent right of +thirty days’ notice of Nate’s intention, by virtue of the +priority of entering land accorded by the statute to the finder of a +mine or valuable mineral, it would be considered a groundless boast, +actuated by envy and jealousy. He had told no one but Nate of +his discovery - and would not Nate now deny it!<br/> +<br/> +However, one thing in the future was certain, - Nathan Griggs should +not escape altogether scathless. For a long time Birt sat motionless, +revolving vengeful purposes in his mind. Every moment he grew +more bitter, as he reflected upon his wrecked scheme, his wonderful +fatuity, and the double dealing of his chosen coadjutor. But he +would get even with Nate Griggs yet; he promised himself that, - he +would get even!<br/> +<br/> +At last the falling darkness warned him home. When he rose his +limbs trembled, his head was in a whirl, and the familiar scene swayed, +strange and distorted, before him. He steadied himself after a +moment, finished the odd jobs he had left undone, and presently was +trudging homeward.<br/> +<br/> +A heavy black cloud overhung the woods; an expectant stillness brooded +upon the sultry world; an angry storm was in the air. The first +vivid flash and simultaneous peal burst from the sky as he reached the +passage between the two rooms.<br/> +<br/> +“Ye air powerful perlite ter come a-steppin’ home jes’ +at supper-time,” said his mother advancing to meet him. +“Ye lef’ no wood hyar, an’ ye said ye would borry +the mule, an’ come home early a-purpose to haul some. An’ +me hyar with nuthin’ to cook supper with but sech chips an’ +blocks an’ bresh ez I could pick up off’n the groun’.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt’s troubles had crowded out the recollection of this domestic +duty.<br/> +<br/> +“I clean furgot,” he admitted, penitently. Then he +asked suddenly, “An’ whar war Rufe, an’ Pete, an’ +Joe, ez <i>ye</i> hed ter go ter pickin’ up of chips an’ +sech off’n the groun’?”<br/> +<br/> +He turned toward the group of small boys. “Air you-uns all +disabled somehows, ez ye can’t pick up chips an’ bresh an’ +sech?” he said. “An’ ef ye air, whyn’t +ye go ter the tanyard arter me?”<br/> +<br/> +“They war all off in the woods, a-lookin’ arter Rufe’s +trap ez ye sot fur squir’ls,” Mrs. Dicey explained. +“It hed one in it, an’ I cooked it fur supper.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt said that he could go out early with his axe and cut enough wood +for breakfast tomorrow, and then he fell silent. Once or twice +his preoccupied demeanor called forth comment.<br/> +<br/> +“Whyn’t ye eat some o’ the squir’l, Birt?” +his mother asked at the supper table. “Pears-like ter me +ez it air cooked toler’ble tasty.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt could not eat. He soon rose from the table and resumed his +chair by the window, and for half an hour no word passed between them.<br/> +<br/> +The thunder seemed to roll on the very roof of the cabin, and it trembled +beneath the heavy fall of the rain. At short intervals a terrible +blue light quivered through crevices in the “daubin’” +between the logs of the wall, and about the rude shutter which closed +the glassless window. Now and then a crash from the forest told +of a riven tree. But the storm had no terrors for the inmates +of this humble dwelling. Pete and Joe had already gone to bed; +Tennessee had fallen asleep while playing on the floor, and Rufe dozed +peacefully in his chair. Even Mrs. Dicey nodded as she knitted, +the needles sometimes dropping from her nerveless hand.<br/> +<br/> +Birt silently watched the group for a time in the red light of the smouldering +fire and the blue flashes from without. At length he softly rose +and crept noiselessly to the door; the fastening was the primitive latch +with a string attached; it opened without a sound in his cautious handling, +and he found himself in the pitchy darkness outside, the wild mountain +wind whirling about him, and the rain descending in steady torrents.<br/> +<br/> +He had stumbled only a few steps from the house when he thought he indistinctly +heard the door open again. He dreaded his mother’s questions, +but he stopped and looked back.<br/> +<br/> +He saw nothing. There was no sound save the roar of the wind, +the dash of the rain, and the commotion among the branches of the trees.<br/> +<br/> +He went on once more, absorbed in his dreary reflections and the fierce +anger that burned in his heart.<br/> +<br/> +“I’ll git even with Nate Griggs,” he said, over and +again. “I’ll git even with him yit.”<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +CHAPTER VII.<br/> +<br/> +When Birt reached the fence, he discovered that the bars were down. +Rufe had forgotten to replace them that afternoon when he drove in the +cow to be milked. Despite his absorption, Birt paused to put them +up, remembering the vagrant mountain cattle that might stray in upon +the corn. He found the familiar little job difficult enough, for +it seemed to him that there was never before so black a night. +Even looking upward, he could not see the great wind-tossed boughs of +the chestnut-oak above his head. He only knew they were near, +because acorns dropped upon the rail in his hands, and rebounded resonantly. +But an owl, blown helplessly down the gale, was not much better off, +for all its vaunted nocturnal vision. As it drifted by, on the +currents of the wind, its noiseless, out-stretched wings, vainly flapping, +struck Birt suddenly in the face, and frightened by the collision, it +gave an odd, peevish squeak.<br/> +<br/> +Birt, too, was startled for a moment. Then he exclaimed irritably, +“Oh, g’way ow<i>el</i>” - realizing what had struck +him.<br/> +<br/> +The next moment he paused abruptly. He thought he heard, close +at hand, amongst the glooms, a faint chuckle. Something - was +it? - <i>somebody</i> laughing in the darkness?<br/> +<br/> +He stood intently listening. But now he heard only the down-pour +of the rain, the sonorous gusts of the wind, the multitudinous voices +of the muttering leaves.<br/> +<br/> +He said to himself that it was fancy. “All this trouble +ez I hev hed along o’ Nate Griggs hev mighty nigh addled my brains.”<br/> +<br/> +The name recalled his resolve.<br/> +<br/> +“I’ll git even with him, though. I’ll git even +with him yit,” he reiterated as he plodded on heavily down the +path, his mind once more busy with all the details of his discovery, +his misplaced confidence, and the wreck of his hopes.<br/> +<br/> +It seemed so hard that he should never before have heard of “entering +land,” and of that law of the State according priority to the +finder of mineral. The mine was his, but he had hid the discovery +from all but Nate, who claimed it himself, and had secured the legal +title.<br/> +<br/> +“But I’ll git even with him,” he said resolutely between +his set teeth.<br/> +<br/> +He had thought it a lucky chance to remember, in his reverie before +the fire-lit hearth, that peg in the shed at the tanyard on which Tim +had hung his brother’s coat. Somehow the episode of the +afternoon had left so vivid an impression on Birt’s mind that +hours afterward he seemed to see the dull, clouded sky, the sombre, +encircling woods, the brown stretch of spent tan, the little gray shed, +and within it, hanging upon a peg, the butternut jeans coat, a stiff +white paper protruding from its pocket.<br/> +<br/> +That grant, he thought, had taken from him his rights. He would +destroy it - he would tear it into bits, and cast it to the turbulent +mountain winds. It was not his, to be sure. But was it justly +Nate’s? - he had no right to enter the land down the ravine.<br/> +<br/> +And so Birt argued with his conscience.<br/> +<br/> +Now wherever Conscience calls a halt, it is no place for Reason to debate +the question. The way ahead is no thoroughfare.<br/> +<br/> +Birt did not recognize the tearing of the paper as stealing, but he +knew that all this was morally wrong, although he would not admit it. +He would not forego his revenge - it was too dear; he was too deeply +injured. In the anger that possessed his every faculty, he did +not appreciate its futility.<br/> +<br/> +There were other facts which he did <i>not</i> know. He was ignorant +that the deed which he contemplated was a crime in the estimation of +the law, a penitentiary offense.<br/> +<br/> +And toward this terrible pitfall he trudged in the darkness, saying +over and again to himself, “I’ll git even with Nate Griggs; +he’ll hev no grant, no land, no gold - no more ’n me. +I’ll git even with him.”<br/> +<br/> +His progress seemed incredibly slow as he groped along the path. +But the rain soon ceased; the wind began to scatter the clouds; through +a rift he saw a great, glittering planet blazing high above their dark +turmoils.<br/> +<br/> +How the drops pattered down as the wind tossed the laurel! - once they +sounded like footfalls close behind him. He turned and looked +back into the obscurities of the forest. Nothing - a frog had +begun to croak far away, and the vibrations of the katydid were strident +on the damp air.<br/> +<br/> +And here was the tanyard, a denser area of gloom marking where the house +and shed stood in the darkness. He did not hesitate. He +stepped over the bars, which lay as usual on the ground, and walked +across the yard to the shed. The eaves were dripping with moisture. +But the coat, still hanging within on the peg, was dry.<br/> +<br/> +He had a thrill of repulsion when he touched it. His hand fell.<br/> +<br/> +“But look how Nate hev treated me,” he remonstrated with +his conscience.<br/> +<br/> +The next moment he had drawn the grant half-way out of the pocket, and +as he moved he almost stepped upon something close behind him. +All at once he knew what it was, even before a flash of the distant +lightning revealed a little tow-head down in the darkness, and a pair +of black eyes raised to his in perfect confidence.<br/> +<br/> +It was the little sister who had followed him to-night, as she always +did when she could.<br/> +<br/> +“Stand back thar, Tennessee!” he faltered.<br/> +<br/> +He was trembling from head to foot. And yet Tennessee was far +too young to tell that she had seen the grant in his hands, to understand, +even to question. But had he been seized by the whole Griggs tribe, +he could not have been so panic-stricken as he was by the sight of that +unknowing little head, the touch of the chubby little hand on his knee.<br/> +<br/> +He thrust the grant back into the pocket of Nate’s coat. +His resolve was routed by the presence of love and innocence. +Not here - not now could he be vindictive, malicious. With some +urgent, inborn impulse strongly constraining him, he caught the little +sister in his arms, and fled headlong through the darkness, homeward.<br/> +<br/> +As he went he was amazed that he should have contemplated this revenge.<br/> +<br/> +“Why, I can’t afford ter be a scoundrel an’ sech, +jes’ ’kase Nate Griggs air a tricky feller an’ hev +fooled me. Ef Tennessee hedn’t stepped up so powerful peart +I moughtn’t hev come ter my senses in time. I mought hev +tore up Nate’s grant by now. But arter this I ain’t +never goin’ ter set out ter act like a scamp jes’ ’kase +somebody else does.”<br/> +<br/> +His conscience had prevailed, his better self returned. And when +he reached home, and opening the door saw his mother still nodding over +her knitting, and Rufe asleep in his chair, and the fire smouldering +on the hearth, all as he had left it, he might have thought that he +had dreamed the temptation and his rescue, but for his dripping garments +and Tennessee in his arms all soaking with the rain.<br/> +<br/> +The noise of his entrance roused his mother, who stared in drowsy astonishment +at the bedraggled apparition on the threshold.<br/> +<br/> +“Tennie follered me ter the tanyard ’fore I fund her out,” +Birt explained. “It ’pears ter hev rained on her, +considerable,” he added deprecatingly.<br/> +<br/> +Tennie was looking eagerly over her shoulder to note the effect of this +statement. Her streaming hair flirted drops of water on the floor; +her cheeks were ruddy; her black eyes brightened with apprehension.<br/> +<br/> +“Waal, sir! that thar child beats all. Never mind, Tennie, +ye’ll meet up with a wild varmint some day when ye air follerin’ +Birt off from the house, an’ I ain’t surprised none ef it +eats ye! But shucks!” Mrs. Dicey continued impersonally, +“I mought ez well save my breath; Tennie ain’t feared o’ +nuthin’, ef Birt air by.”<br/> +<br/> +The word “varmint” seemed to recall something to Tennessee. +She began to chatter unintelligibly about an “ow<i>el</i>,” +and to chuckle so, that Birt had sudden light upon that mysterious laugh +which he had heard behind him at the bars.<br/> +<br/> +In his pride in Tennessee he related how the owl had startled him, and +the little girl, invisible in the darkness, had laughed.<br/> +<br/> +“Tennessee ain’t pretty, I know, but she air powerful peart,” +he said, affectionately, as he placed her upon her feet on the floor.<br/> +<br/> +Birt was out early with his axe the next day. The air was delightfully +pure after the rain-storm; the sky, gradually becoming visible, wore +the ideal azure; the freshened foliage seemed tinted anew. And +the morning was pierced by the gilded, glittering javelins of the sunrise, +flung from over the misty eastern mountains. As the day dawned +all sylvan fascinations were alert in the woods. The fragrant +winds were garrulous with wild legends of piney gorges; of tumultuous +cascades fringed by thyme and mint and ferns. Every humble weed +lent odorous suggestions. The airy things all took to wing. +And the spider was a-weaving.<br/> +<br/> +Birt had felled a slender young ash, and was cutting it into lengths +for the fireplace, when he noticed a squirrel, sleek woodland dandy, +frisking about a rotten log at some little distance, by the roadside.<br/> +<br/> +Suddenly the squirrel paused, then nimbly sped away. There was +the sound of approaching hoofs along the road, and presently from around +the curve a woman appeared mounted on a sorrel mare, and with a long-legged +colt ambling in the rear.<br/> +<br/> +It was Mrs. Griggs, setting out on a journey of some ten miles to visit +her married daughter who lived on a neighboring spur. She had +taken an early start to “git rid o’ the heat o’ the +noon,” as she explained to Mrs. Dicey, who had run out to the +rail fence when she reined up beside it. Birt dropped his axe +and joined them, expecting to hear more about Nate’s grant and +the gold mine. Rufe and Tennessee added their company without +any definite intention. Pete and Joe were hurrying out of the +house toward the group. All the dogs congregated, some of them +climbing over the fence to investigate the colt, which was skittish +under the ordeal. Even the turkey-gobbler, strutting on the outskirts +of the assemblage, had an attentive aspect, as if he, too, relished +the gossip.<br/> +<br/> +Mrs. Griggs’s pink calico sunbonnet surmounted the cap with the +explanatory ruffle. She carried a fan of turkey feathers, and +with appropriate gesticulation, it aided in expounding to Mrs. Dicey +the astonishing news that Nate had found a gold mine on vacant land, +and had entered the tract. They intended to send specimens to +the State Assayer, and they were all getting ready to begin work at +once.<br/> +<br/> +Another surprise to Birt! The ignorant mountain boy had never +heard of the Assayer. But indeed Nate had only learned of the +existence of the office and its uses during that memorable trip to Sparta.<br/> +<br/> +The prideful Mrs. Griggs from her elevation, literal and metaphorical, +supplemented all this by the creditable statements that Nate had turned +twenty-one, had cast his vote, and had a right to a choice at the Cross-roads.<br/> +<br/> +Then she chirruped to the rawboned sorrel mare, and jogged off down +the road, followed by the frisky colt, whose long, slender legs when +in motion seemed so fragile that it was startling to witness the temerity +with which he kicked up his frolicsome heels. The dogs, with that +odd canine affectation of having just perceived the intruders, pursued +them with sudden asperity, barking and snapping, and at last came trotting +nimbly home, wagging their tails and with a dutiful mien.<br/> +<br/> +Mrs. Dicey went back into the house, and sat for a time in envious meditation, +fairly silenced, and with her apron flung over her face. Then +she fell to lamenting that she had been working all her life for nothing, +and it would take so little to make the family comfortable, and that +her children seemed “disabled somehow in thar heads, an’ +though always rootin’ around in the woods, hed never fund no gold +mine nor nuthin’ else out o’ the common.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt kept silent, but the gloom and trouble in his face suddenly touched +her heart.<br/> +<br/> +“Thar now, Birt!” she exclaimed, with a world of consolation +in her tones, “I don’t mean ter say that, nuther. +Ain’t I a-thinkin’ day an’ night o’ how smart +ye be - stiddy an’ sensible an’ hard-workin’ jes’ +like a man - an’ what a good son ye hev been to me! An’ +the t’other chill’n air good too, an’ holps me powerful, +though Rufe air hendered some, by the comical natur o’ the critter.”<br/> +<br/> +She broke out with a cheerful laugh, in which Birt could not join.<br/> +<br/> +“An’ I mus’ be gittin’ breakfus fur the chill’n,” +she said, kneeling down on the hearth, and uncovering the embers which +had been kept all night under the ashes.<br/> +<br/> +“Don’t ye fret, sonny. I ain’t goin’ ter +grudge Nate his gold mine. I reckon sech a good son ez ye be, +an’ a gold mine too, would be too much luck fur one woman. +Don’t ye fret, sonny.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt’s self-control gave way abruptly. He rose in great +agitation, and started toward the door. Then he paused, and broke +forth with passionate incoherence, telling amidst sobs and tears the +story of the woodland’s munificence to him, and how he had flung +the gift away.<br/> +<br/> +In recounting the hopes that had deluded him, the fears that had gnawed, +and the despair in which they were at last merged, he did not notice, +for a time, her look as she still knelt motionless before the embers +on the hearth.<br/> +<br/> +He faltered, and grew silent; then stared dumbly at her.<br/> +<br/> +She seemed as one petrified. Her face had blanched; its lines +were as sharp and distinct as if graven in stone; only her eyes spoke, +an eloquent anguish. Her faculties were numbed for a moment. +But presently there was a quiver in her chin, and her voice rang out.<br/> +<br/> +And yet did she understand? did she realize the loss of the mine? +For it was not this that she lamented<br/> +<br/> +“Birt Dicey!” she cried in an appalled tone. “Did +ye hide it from yer <i>mother</i> - an’ tell <i>Nate Griggs</i>?”<br/> +<br/> +Birt hung his head. The folly of it!<br/> +<br/> +“What ailed ye, ter hide it from me?” she asked deprecatingly, +holding out her worn, hard-working hands. “Hev I ever done +ye harm?”<br/> +<br/> +“Nuthin’ but good.”<br/> +<br/> +“Don’t everybody know a boy’s mother air bound ter +take his part agin all the worl’?”<br/> +<br/> +“Everybody but me,” said the penitent Birt.<br/> +<br/> +“What ailed ye, ter hide it from me? What did ye ’low +I’d do?”<br/> +<br/> +“I ’lowed ye wouldn’t want me ter go pardners with +Nate,” he said drearily.<br/> +<br/> +“I reckon I wouldn’t!” she admitted.<br/> +<br/> +“Ye always said he war a snake in the grass.”<br/> +<br/> +“He hev proved that air a true word.”<br/> +<br/> +“I wisht I hedn’t tole him!” cried Birt vainly. +“I wisht I hedn’t.”<br/> +<br/> +He watched her with moody eyes as she rose at last with a sigh and went +mechanically about her preparations for breakfast.<br/> +<br/> +There was a division between them. He felt the gulf widening.<br/> +<br/> +“I jes’ wanted it fur you-uns, ennyhow,” he said, +defending his motives. “I ’lowed ez I mought make +enough out’n it ter buy a horse.”<br/> +<br/> +“I hain’t got time ter sorrow ’bout’n no gold +mine,” she said loftily. “I used ter believe ye set +a heap o’ store by yer mother, an’ war willin’ ter +trust her - ye an’ me hevin’ been through mighty hard times +together. But ye don’t - I reckon ye never did. I +hev los’ mo’ than enny gold mine.”<br/> +<br/> +And this sorrow for a vanished faith resolved itself into tears with +which she salted her humble bread.<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +CHAPTER VIII.<br/> +<br/> +If she had had any relish for triumph, she might have found it in Birt’s +astonishment to learn that she understood all the details of entering +land, which had been such a mystery to him.<br/> +<br/> +“‘Twar the commonest thing in the worl’, whenst I +war young, ter hear ’bout’n folks enterin’ land,” +she said. “But nowadays thar ain’t no talk ’bout’n +it sca’cely, ’kase the best an’ most o’ the +land in the State hev all been tuk up an’ entered - ’ceptin’ +mebbe a trac’, hyar an’ thar, full o’ rock, an’ +so steep ’t ain’t wuth payin’ the taxes on.”<br/> +<br/> +Simple as she was, she could have given him valuable counsel when it +was sorely needed. He hung about the house later than was his +wont, bringing in the store of wood for her work during the day, and +“packing” the water from the spring, with the impulse in +his attention to these little duties to make what amends he might.<br/> +<br/> +When at last he started for the tanyard, he knew by the sun that he +was long over-due. He walked briskly along the path through the +sassafras and sumach bushes, on which the rain-drops still clung. +He was presently brushing them off in showers, for he had begun to run. +It occurred to him that this was no time to seem even a trifle remiss +in his work at the tanyard. Since he had lost all his hopes down +the ravine, the continuance of Jube Perkins’s favor and the dreary +routine with the mule and the bark-mill were his best prospects. +It would never do to offend the tanner now.<br/> +<br/> +“With sech a pack o’ chill’n ter vittle ez we-uns +hev got at our house,” he muttered.<br/> +<br/> +As he came crashing through the underbrush into view of the tanyard, +he noticed instantly that it did not wear its usual simple, industrial +aspect. A group of excited men were standing in front of the shed, +one of them gesticulating wildly.<br/> +<br/> +And running toward the bars came Tim Griggs, panting and white-faced, +and exclaiming incoherently at the sight of Birt.<br/> +<br/> +“Oh, Birt,” he cried, “I war jes’ startin’ +to yer house arter you-uns; they tole me to go an’ fetch ye. +Fur massy’s sake, gimme Nate’s grant. I’m fairly +afeared o’ him. He’ll break every bone I own.” +He held out his hand. “Gimme the grant!”<br/> +<br/> +“Nate’s grant!” exclaimed Birt aghast. “I +hain’t got it! I hain’t” -<br/> +<br/> +He paused abruptly. He could not say that he had not touched it.<br/> +<br/> +Tim’s wits were sharpened by the keen anxiety of the crisis. +He noticed the hesitation. “Ye hev hed it,” he cried +wildly. “Ye know ye hev been foolin’ with it. +Ye know ’twar you-uns!”<br/> +<br/> +He changed to sudden appeal. “Don’t put the blame +off on me, Birt,” he pleaded. “I’m fairly afeared +o’ Nate.”<br/> +<br/> +“Ain’t the grant in the pocket o’ his coat - whar +ye left it hangin’ on a peg in the shed?” asked Birt, dismayed.<br/> +<br/> +“Naw - naw!” exclaimed Tim, despairingly. “He +missed his coat this mornin’, bein’ the weather war cooler, +an’ then the grant, an’ he sent me arter it. An’ +I fund the coat a-hangin’ thar on the peg, whar I hed lef’ +it, bein’ ez I furgot it when I went off with Rufe ter look at +his chickens, an’ the pocket war empty an’ the paper gone! +Nate hev kem ter sarch, too!”<br/> +<br/> +Once more he held out his hand. “Gimme the grant. +Nate ’lows ’twar you-uns ez tuk it, bein’ ez I lef’ +it hyar.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt flushed angrily. “I’ll say a word ter Nate Griggs!” +he declared.<br/> +<br/> +And he pushed past the trembling Tim, and took his way briskly into +the tanyard.<br/> +<br/> +There was a vague murmur in the group as he approached, and Nate Griggs +came out from its midst, nodding his head threateningly. His hat, +thrust far back on his sandy hair, left in bold relief his long, thin +face with its small eyes, which seemed now so close together that his +glance had the effect of a squint. He scanned Birt narrowly.<br/> +<br/> +This was the first time the two had met since Birt’s ill-starred +confidence there by the bark-mill.<br/> +<br/> +“What ails ye, ter ’low ez it air <i>me</i> ez hev got yer +grant, Nate Griggs?” Birt asked, steadily meeting the accusation.<br/> +<br/> +The excitement had impaired for the moment Nate Griggs’s cunning.<br/> +<br/> +“‘Kase,” he blurted out, “ye hev been a-tryin’ +ter purtend ez ye fund the mine fust, an’ hev been a-tellin’ +folks ’bout’n it.”<br/> +<br/> +“Prove it,” said Birt, in sudden elation. “Who +war it I tole, an’ when?”<br/> +<br/> +The sly Nathan caught his breath with a gasp. His craft had returned.<br/> +<br/> +Admit that to <i>him</i> Birt had divulged the discovery of the mine! +Confess, when! This would invalidate the entry!<br/> +<br/> +“Ye tole <i>Tim</i>,” Nate said shamelessly, “an’ +ez ter when - ’twar yestiddy evenin’ at the tanyard. +Didn’t he, Tim?” And he whirled around to his younger +brother for confirmation of this audacious and deliberate falsehood.<br/> +<br/> +The abject Tim - poor tool! - frightened and cowering, nodded to admit +it. “Gimme the grant, Birt,” he faltered, helplessly. +“I oughtn’t ter hev furgot it.”<br/> +<br/> +“Look-a-hyar, Birt,” said the tanner with a solemnity which +the boy did not altogether understand, “gin Nate the grant.”<br/> +<br/> +“I hain’t got it,” replied Birt, badgered and growing +nervous.<br/> +<br/> +“Tell him, then, ye never teched it.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt’s impulse was to adopt the word. But he had seen enough +of falsehood. He had done with concealment.<br/> +<br/> +“I did tech it,” he said boldly, “but I hain’t +got it. I put it back in the pocket o’ the coat.”<br/> +<br/> +Jube Perkins laid a sudden hand upon his collar. “‘Tain’t +no use denyin’ it, Birt,” he said with the sharp cadence +of dismay. “Gin the grant back ter Nate, an’ mebbe +he won’t go no furder ’bout’n it. Stealin’ +a paper like that air a pen’tiary crime!”<br/> +<br/> +Birt reeled under the word. He thought of his mother, the children. +He had a bitter foretaste of the suspense, the fear, the humiliation. +And he was helpless. For no one would believe him! His head +was in a whirl. He could not stand. He sank down upon the +wood-pile, vaguely hearing a word here and there of what was said in +the crowd.<br/> +<br/> +“His mother air a widder-woman,” remarked one of the group. +“An’ she air mighty poor.”<br/> +<br/> +Andy Byers was laughing cynically.<br/> +<br/> +Absorbed though he was, Birt experienced a subacute wonder that any +one could feel so bitterly toward him as to laugh at a moment like this. +How had he made Andy Byers his enemy!<br/> +<br/> +Nobody noticed it, for Nate was swaggering about in the crowd, enjoying +this conspicuous opportunity to display all the sophistications he had +acquired in his recent trip to Sparta. He was calling upon them +to witness that he did not care for the loss of the grant - the <i>paper</i> +was nothing to him! - for it was on record in the land office, and he +could get a certified copy from the register in no time at all. +But his rights were his <i>rights</i>! - and ten thousand Diceys should +not trample on them. Birt had doubtless thought, being ignorant, +that he could destroy the title by making away with the paper; and if +there was law in the State, he should suffer for it.<br/> +<br/> +And after this elaborate rodomontade, Nate strode out of the tanyard, +with the obsequious Tim following humbly.<br/> +<br/> +Birt told his story again and again, to satisfy curious questioners +during the days that ensued. And when he had finished they would +look significantly at one another, and chuckle incredulously.<br/> +<br/> +The tanner seemed to earnestly wish to befriend him, and urged him to +confess. “The truth’s the only thing ez kin save ye, +Birt.”<br/> +<br/> +“I’m tellin’ the truth,” poor Birt would declare.<br/> +<br/> +Then Jube Perkins argued the question: “How kin ye expec’ +ennybody ter b’lieve ye when ye say Tennessee purvented ye from +takin’ the grant - ennything the size o’ leetle Tennie, +thar.”<br/> +<br/> +And he pointed at the little sister, who was perched upon the wood-pile +munching an Indian peach.<br/> +<br/> +Somehow Birt did not accurately define the moral force which she had +wielded, for he was untaught, and clumsy of speech, and could not translate +his feelings. And Jube Perkins was hardly fitted to understand +that subtle coercion of affection.<br/> +<br/> +When he found that Birt would only reiterate that Tennie “kem +along unbeknown an’ purvented” him, Jube Perkins gave up +the effort at last, convinced of his guilt.<br/> +<br/> +And Andy Byers said that he was not surprised, for he had known for +some little time that Birt was a “most <i>mischievious</i> scamp.”<br/> +<br/> +Only his mother believed in him, requiting his lack of confidence in +her with a fervor of faith in him that, while it consoled, nevertheless +cut him to the heart. It has been many years since then, for all +this happened along in the fifties, but Birt has never forgotten how +staunchly she upheld him in every thought when all the circumstances +belied him. Now that misfortune had touched him, every trace of +her caustic moods had disappeared; she was all gentleness and tenderness +toward him. And day by day as he went to his work, meeting everywhere +a short word, or a slighting look, he felt that he could not have borne +up, save for the knowledge of that loyal heart at home.<br/> +<br/> +He was momently in terror of arrest, and he often pondered on Nate’s +uncharacteristic forbearance. Perhaps Nate was afraid that Birt’s +story, told from the beginning in court, might constrain belief and +affect the validity of the entry.<br/> +<br/> +Birt vainly speculated, too, upon the strange disappearance of the grant. +There it was in the pocket of the coat late that night, and the next +morning early - gone!<br/> +<br/> +Sometimes he suspected that Nate had only made a pretense of losing +the grant, in order to accuse him and prejudice public opinion against +him, so that he might not be believed should he claim the discovery +of the mineral down the ravine.<br/> +<br/> +His mother sought to keep him from dwelling upon his troubles. +“We won’t cross the bredge till we git thar,” she +said. “Mebbe thar ain’t none ahead.” But +her fears for his sake tortured her silent hours when he was away. +When he came back from his work, there always awaited him a bright fire, +a good supper, and cheerful words as well, although these were the most +difficult to prepare. The dogs bounded about him, Tennessee clung +to his hand, the boys were hilarious and loud.<br/> +<br/> +By reason of their mother’s silence on the subject, that Birt +might be better able to go, and work, and hold up his head among the +men who suspected him, the children for a time knew nothing of what +had happened.<br/> +<br/> +Now Rufe, although his faults were many and conspicuous, was not lacking +in natural affection. Had he understood that a cloud overhung +Birt, he could not have been so merry, so facetious, so queerly and +quaintly bad as he was on his visits to the tanyard, which were peculiarly +frequent just now. If Birt had had the heart for it, he might +have enjoyed some of Rufe’s pranks at the expense of Andy Byers. +The man had once found a sort of entertainment in making fun of Rufe, +and this had encouraged the small boy to retaliate as best he could.<br/> +<br/> +At this time, however, Byers suddenly became the gravest of men. +He took little notice of the wiles of his elfish antagonist, and whenever +he fell into a snare devised by Rufe, he was irritable for a moment, +and had forgotten it the next. He had never a word or glance for +Birt, who marveled at his conduct. He seemed perpetually brooding +upon some perplexity. Occasionally in the midst of his work he +would stand motionless for five minutes, the two-handled knife poised +in his grasp, his eyes fixed upon the ground, his shaggy brows heavily +knitted, his expression doubting, anxious.<br/> +<br/> +The tanner commented upon this inactivity, one day. “Hev +ye tuk root thar, Andy?” he asked.<br/> +<br/> +Byers roused himself with a start. “Naw,” he replied +reflectively, “but I hev been troubled in my mind some, lately, +an’ I gits ter studyin’ powerful wunst in a while.”<br/> +<br/> +As he bent to his work, scraping the two-handled knife up and down the +hide stretched over the wooden horse, he added, “I hev got so +ez I can’t relish my vittles sca’cely, bein’ so tormented +in my mind, an’ my sleep air plumb broke up; ’pears like +ter me ez I hev got a reg’lar gift fur the nightmare.”<br/> +<br/> +“Been skeered by old Mis’ Price’s harnt lately?” +Rufe asked suddenly from his perch upon the wood-pile.<br/> +<br/> +Byers whirled round abruptly, fixing an astonished gaze upon Rufe, unmindful +that the knife slipped from his grasp, and fell clanking upon the ground.<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +CHAPTER IX.<br/> +<br/> +This grave, eager gaze Rufe returned with the gayest audacity.<br/> +<br/> +“Been skeered by old Mis’ Price’s harnt lately?” +he once more chirped out gleefully.<br/> +<br/> +He was comical enough, as he sat on the top of the wood-pile, hugging +his knees with both arms, his old, bent, wool hat perched on the back +of his tow head, and all his jagged squirrel teeth showing themselves, +unabashed, in a wide grin.<br/> +<br/> +Jubal Perkins laughed lazily, as he looked at him.<br/> +<br/> +Then, with that indulgence which Rufe always met at the tanyard, and +which served to make him so pert and forward, the tanner said, humoring +the privileged character, “What be you-uns a-talkin’ ’bout, +boy? Mrs. Price ain’t dead.”<br/> +<br/> +“<i>He</i> hev viewed old Mis’ Price’s harnt,” +cried Rufe, pointing at Andy Byers, with a jocosely crooked finger. +“<i>He</i> air so peart an’ forehanded a-viewin’ harnts, +he don’t hev to wait till folkses be dead. <i>He</i> hev +seen Mis’ Price’s harnt - an’ it plumb skeered the +wits out’n him.”<br/> +<br/> +Perkins did not understand this. His interest was suddenly alert. +He took his pipe from his mouth, and glanced over his shoulder at Byers. +“What air Rufe aimin’ at, Andy?” he asked, surprised.<br/> +<br/> +Byers did not reply. He still gazed steadfastly at Rufe; the knife +lay unheeded on the ground at his feet, and the hide was slipping from +the wooden horse.<br/> +<br/> +At last he said slowly, “Birt tole ye ’bout’n it, +eh?”<br/> +<br/> +“Naw, sir! Naw!” Rufe rocked himself fantastically +to and fro in imminent peril of toppling off the wood-pile. “‘Twar +Tom Byers ez tole me.”<br/> +<br/> +“<i>Tom</i>!” exclaimed Byers, with a galvanic start.<br/> +<br/> +For Tom was his son, and he had not suspected filial treachery in the +matter of the spectral blackberry bush.<br/> +<br/> +Rufe stared in his turn, not comprehending Byers’s surprise.<br/> +<br/> +“<i>Tom</i>,” he reiterated presently, with mocking explicitness. +“Tom Byers - I reckon ye knows him. That thar freckled-faced, +snaggled-toothed, red-headed Tom Byers, ez lives at yer house. +I reckon ye <i>mus</i>’ know him.”<br/> +<br/> +“Tom tole ye - <i>what</i>?” asked the tanner, puzzled by +Byers’s grave, anxious face, and Rufe’s mysterious sneers.<br/> +<br/> +Rufe broke into the liveliest cackle. “Tom, he ’lowed +ter me ez he war tucked up in the trundle-bed, fast asleep, that night +when his dad got home from old Mis’ Price’s house, whar +he had been ter hear her las’ words. Tom, he ’lowed +he war dreamin’ ez his gran’dad hed gin him a calf - Tom +say the calf war spotted red an’ white - an’ jes’ +ez he war a-leadin’ it home with him, his dad kem racin’ +inter the house with sech a rumpus ez woke him up, an’ he never +got the calf along no furder than the turn in the road. An’ +thar sot his dad in the cheer, declarin’ fur true ez he hed seen +old Mis’ Price’s harnt in the woods, an’ b’lieved +she mus’ be dead afore now. An’ though thar war a +right smart fire on the h’a’th, he war shiverin’ an’ +shakin’ over it, jes’ the same ez ef he war out at the wood-pile, +pickin’ up chips on a frosty mornin’.”<br/> +<br/> +And Rufe crouched over, shivering in every limb, in equally excellent +mimicry of a ghost-seer, or an unwilling chip-picker under stress of +weather.<br/> +<br/> +“My!” he exclaimed with a fresh burst of laughter; “whenst +Tom tole me ’bout’n it I war so tickled I war feared I’d +fall. I los’ the use o’ my tongue. I couldn’t +stop laffin’ long enough ter tell Tom what I war laffin’ +at. An’ ez Tom knowed I war snake-bit las’ June, he +went home an’ tole his mother ez the p’ison hed done teched +me in the head, an’ said he reckoned, ef the truth war knowed, +I hed fits ez a constancy. I say - <i>fits</i>!”<br/> +<br/> +Once more the bewildered tanner glanced from one to the other.<br/> +<br/> +“Why, ye never tole me ez ye hed seen su’thin’ strange +in the woods, Andy,” he exclaimed, feeling aggrieved, thus balked +of a sensation. “An’ the old woman ain’t dead, +nohow,” he continued reasonably, “but air strengthenin’ +up amazin’ fast.”<br/> +<br/> +“Waal,” put in Rufe, hastening to explain this discrepancy +in the spectre, “I hearn you-uns a-sayin’ that mornin’, +fore ye set out from the tanyard, ez she war mighty nigh dead an’ +would be gone ’fore night. An’ ez he hed tole me he’d +skeer the wits out’n me, I ’lowed ez I could show him ez +his wits warn’t ez tough ez mine. Though,” added the +roguish Rufe, with a grin of enjoyment, “arter I hed dressed up +the blackberry bush in mam’s apron an’ shawl, an’ +sot her bonnet a-top, it tuk ter noddin’ and bowin’ with +the wind, an’ looked so like folks, ez it gin <i>Me</i> a skeer, +an’ I jes’ run home ez hard ez I could travel. An +Towse, he barked at it!”<br/> +<br/> +Andy Byers spoke suddenly. “Waal, Birt holped ye, then.”<br/> +<br/> +“He never!” cried Rufe, emphatically, unwilling to share +the credit, or perhaps discredit, of the enterprise. “Birt +dunno nuthin’ ’bout it ter this good day.” Rufe +winked slyly. “Birt would tell mam ez I hed been a-foolin’ +with her shawl an’ bonnet.”<br/> +<br/> +Andy Byers still maintained a most incongruous gravity.<br/> +<br/> +“It warn’t Birt’s doin’, at all?” he said +interrogatively, and with a pondering aspect.<br/> +<br/> +Jubal Perkins broke into a derisive guffaw. “What ails ye, +Andy?” he cried. “Though ye never seen no harnt, ye +’pear ter be fairly witched by that thar tricked-out blackberry +bush.”<br/> +<br/> +Rufe shrugged up his shoulders, and began to shiver in imaginary terror +over a fancied fire.<br/> +<br/> +“Old - Mis’ - Price’s - harnt!” he wheezed.<br/> +<br/> +The point of view makes an essential difference. Jube Perkins +thought Rufe’s comicality most praiseworthy - his pipe went out +while he laughed. Byers flushed indignantly.<br/> +<br/> +“Ye aggervatin’ leetle varmint!” he cried suddenly, +his patience giving way.<br/> +<br/> +He seized the crouching mimic by the collar, and although he did not +literally knock him off the wood-pile, as Rufe afterward declared, he +assisted the small boy through the air with a celerity that caused Rufe +to wink very fast and catch his breath, when he was deposited, with +a shake, on the soft pile of ground bark some yards away.<br/> +<br/> +Rufe was altogether unhurt, but a trifle subdued by this sudden aerial +excursion. The fun was over for the present. He gathered +himself together, and went demurely and sat down on the lowest log of +the wood-pile. After a little he produced a papaw from his pocket, +and by the manner in which they went to work upon it, his jagged squirrel +teeth showed that they were better than they looked.<br/> +<br/> +Towse had followed his master to the tanyard, and was lying asleep beside +the woodpile, with his muzzle on his forepaws.<br/> +<br/> +He roused himself suddenly at the sound of munching, and came and sat +upright, facing Rufe, and eyeing the papaw gloatingly. He wagged +his tail in a beguiling fashion, and now and then turned his head blandishingly +askew.<br/> +<br/> +Of course he would not have relished the papaw, and only begged as a +matter of habit or perhaps on principle; but he was given no opportunity +to sample it, for Rufe hardly noticed him, being absorbed in dubiously +watching Andy Byers, who was once more at work, scraping the hide with +the two-handled knife.<br/> +<br/> +Jubal Perkins had gone into the house for a coal to re-kindle his pipe, +for there is always a smouldering fire in the “smoke-room” +for the purpose of drying the hides suspended from the rafters. +He came out with it freshly glowing, and sat down on the broad, high +pile of wood.<br/> +<br/> +As the first whiff of smoke wreathed over his head, he said, “What +air the differ ter ye, Andy, whether ’t war bub, hyar, or Birt, +ez dressed up the blackberry bush? ye ’pear ter make a differ +a-twixt ’em.”<br/> +<br/> +Still Byers was evasive. “Whar’s Birt, ennyhow?” +he demanded irrelevantly.<br/> +<br/> +“Waal,” drawled the tanner, with a certain constraint, “I +hed been promisin’ Birt a day off fur a right smart while, an’ +I tole him ez he mought ez well hev the rest o’ ter-day. +He ’lowed ez he warn’t partic’lar ’bout a day +off, now. But I tole him ennyhow ter go along. I seen him +a while ago passin’ through the woods, with his rifle on his shoulder +- gone huntin’, I reckon.”<br/> +<br/> +“<i>Gone huntin</i>’!” ejaculated Rufe in dudgeon, +joining unceremoniously in the conversation of his elders. “Now, +Birt mought hev let me know! I’d hev wanted ter go along +too.”<br/> +<br/> +“Mebbe that air the reason he never tole ye, bub,” said +Perkins dryly.<br/> +<br/> +For he could appreciate that Rufe’s society was not always a boon, +although he took a lenient view of the little boy. Any indulgence +of Birt was more unusual, and Andy Byers experienced some surprise to +hear of the unwonted sylvan recreations of the young drudge. He +noticed that the mule was off duty too, grazing among the bushes just +beyond the fence, and hobbled so that he could not run away. This +precaution might have seemed a practical joke on the mule, for the poor +old animal was only too glad to stand stock still.<br/> +<br/> +Rufe continued his exclamatory indignation.<br/> +<br/> +“Jes’ ter go lopin’ off inter the woods huntin’, +’thout lettin’ <i>Me</i> know! An’ I never gits +ter go huntin’ nohow! An’ mam won’t let me tech +Birt’s rifle, ’thout it air ez empty ez a gourd! She +say she air feared I’ll shoot my head off, an’ she don’t +want no boys, ’thout heads, jouncin’ round her house - shucks! +Which way did Birt take, Mister Perkins? - ’kase I be goin’ +ter ketch up.”<br/> +<br/> +“He war headed fur that thar salt lick, whenst I las’ seen +him,” replied the tanner; “ef ye stir yer stumps right lively, +mebbe ye’ll overhaul him yit.”<br/> +<br/> +Rufe rose precipitately. Towse, believing his petition for the +papaw was about to be rewarded, leaped up too, gamboling with a display +of ecstasy that might have befitted a starving creature, and an elasticity +to be expected only of a rubber dog. As he uttered a shrill yelp +of delight, he sprang up against Rufe, who, reeling under the shock, +dropped the remnant of the papaw. Towse darted upon it, sniffed +disdainfully, and returned to his capers around Rufe, evidently declining +to believe that all that show of gustatory satisfaction had been elicited +only by the papaw, and that Rufe had nothing else to eat.<br/> +<br/> +Thus the two took their way out of the tanyard; and even after they +had disappeared, their progress through the underbrush was marked by +an abnormal commotion among the leaves, as the saltatory skeptic of +a dog insisted on more substantial favors than the succulent papaw.<br/> +<br/> +The tanner smoked for a time in silence.<br/> +<br/> +Then, “Birt ain’t goin’ ter be let ter work hyar ag’in,” +he said.<br/> +<br/> +Byers elevated his shaggy eyebrows in surprise.<br/> +<br/> +“Ye see,” said the tanner in a confidential undertone, “sence +Birt hev stole that thar grant, I kin argufy ez he mought steal su’thin’ +else, an’ I ain’t ekal ter keepin’ up a spry lookout +on things, an’ bein’ partic’lar ’bout the count +o’ the hides an’ sech. I can’t feel easy with +sech a mischeevious scamp around.”<br/> +<br/> +Byers made no rejoinder, and the tanner, puffing his pipe, vaguely watched +the wreaths of smoke rise above his head, and whisk buoyantly about +in the air, and finally skurry off into invisibility. A gentle +breeze was astir in the woods, and it set the leaves to whispering. +The treetoads and the locusts were trolling a chorus. So loudly +vibrant, it was! So clamorously gay! Some subtle intimation +they surely had that summer was ephemeral and the season waning, for +the burden of their song was, Let us now be merry. The scarlet +head of a woodpecker showed brilliantly from the bare dead boughs of +a chestnut-oak, which, with its clinging lichens of green and gray, +was boldly projected against the azure sky. And there, the filmy +moon, most dimly visible in the afternoon sunshine, swung like some +lunar hallucination among the cirrus clouds.<br/> +<br/> +“Ye ’lows ez I ain’t doin’ right by Birt?” +the tanner suggested presently, with more conscience in the matter than +one would have given him credit for possessing.<br/> +<br/> +“I knows ye air doin’ right,” said Byers unexpectedly.<br/> +<br/> +All at once the woodpecker was solemnly tapping - tapping.<br/> +<br/> +Byers glanced up, as if to discern whence the sudden sound came, and +once more bent to his work.<br/> +<br/> +“Ye b’lieves, then, ez he stole that thar grant from Nate +Griggs?” asked Perkins.<br/> +<br/> +“I be <i>sure</i> he done it,” said Byers, unequivocally.<br/> +<br/> +The tanner took his pipe from his lips. “What ails ye ter +say that, Andy?” he exclaimed excitedly.<br/> +<br/> +Andy Byers hesitated. He mechanically passed his fingers once +or twice across the blunt, curved blade of the two-handled knife.<br/> +<br/> +“Ye’ll keep the secret?”<br/> +<br/> +“In the sole o’ my boot,” said the tanner.<br/> +<br/> +“Waal, I <i>knows</i> ez Birt stole the grant. I hev been +powerful changeful, though, in my thoughts bout’n it. At +fust I war glad when he war suspicioned ’bout’n it, an’ +I war minded to go an’ inform on him an’ sech, ter pay him +back; ’kase I held a grudge ag’in him, believin’ ez +he hed dressed out that thar blackberry bush ez Mrs. Price’s harnt. +An’ then I’d remember ez his mother war a widder-woman, +an’ he war nothin’ but a boy, an’ boys air bound ter +be gamesome an’ full o’ jokes wunst in a while, an’ +I’d feel like I war bound ter furgive him ’bout the harnt. +An’ then ag’in I got toler’ble oneasy fur fear the +Law mought hold <i>me</i> ’sponsible fur knowin’ ’bout +Birt’s crime of stealin’ the grant an’ yit not tellin’ +on him. An’ I’d take ter hopin’ an’ prayin’ +the boy would confess, so ez I wouldn’t hev ter tell on him. +I hev been mightily pestered in my mind lately with sech dilly-dallyin’.”<br/> +<br/> +Again the sudden tapping of the woodpecker filled the pause.<br/> +<br/> +“Did ye <i>see</i> him steal the grant, Andy?” asked the +tanner, with bated breath.<br/> +<br/> +“Ez good ez seen him. I seen him slyin’ round, an’ +I <i>hev fund the place whar he hev hid it.</i>”<br/> +<br/> +And the woodpecker still was solemnly tapping, high up in the chestnut-oak +tree.<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +CHAPTER X.<br/> +<br/> +Birt, meanwhile, was trudging along in the woods, hardly seeing where +he went, hardly caring.<br/> +<br/> +He had not had even a vague premonition when the tanner told him that +he might have the rest of the day off. He did not now want the +holiday which would once have so rejoiced him, and he said as much. +And then the tanner, making the disclosure by degrees, being truly sorry +to part with the boy, intimated that he need come back no more.<br/> +<br/> +Birt unharnessed the mule by the sense of touch and the force of habit, +for blinding tears intervened between his vision and the rusty old buckles +and worn straps of leather. The animal seemed to understand that +something was amiss, and now and then turned his head interrogatively. +Somehow Birt was glad to feel that he left at least one friend in the +tanyard, albeit the humblest, for he had always treated the beast with +kindness, and he was sure the mule would miss him.<br/> +<br/> +When he reached home he loitered for a time outside the fence, trying +to nerve himself to witness his mother’s distress. And at +last his tears were dried, and he went in and told her the news.<br/> +<br/> +It was hard for him nowadays to understand that simple mother of his. +She did nothing that he expected. To be sure her cheek paled, +her eyes looked anxious for a moment, and her hands trembled so that +she carefully put down upon the table a dish which she had been wiping. +But she said quite calmly, “Waal, sonny, I dunno but ye hed better +take a day off from work, sure enough, an’ go a-huntin’. +Thar’s yer rifle, an’ mebbe ye’ll git a shot at a +deer down yander by the lick. The chill’n haint hed no wild +meat lately, ’ceptin’ squir’ls out’n Rufe’s +trap.”<br/> +<br/> +And then he began to cry out bitterly that nobody would give him work, +and they would all starve; that the tanner believed he had stolen the +grant, and was afraid to have him about the hides.<br/> +<br/> +“‘Tain’t no differ ez long ez ’tain’t +the truth,” said his mother philosophically. “We-uns +will jes’ abide by the truth.”<br/> +<br/> +He repeated this phrase over and over as he struggled through the tangled +underbrush of the dense forest.<br/> +<br/> +It was all like some terrible dream; and but for Tennessee, it would +be the truth! How he blessed the little sister that her love for +him and his love for her had come between him and crime at that moment +of temptation.<br/> +<br/> +“So powerful peart!” he muttered with glistening eyes, as +he thought of her.<br/> +<br/> +The grant was gone, to be sure; but he did not take it. They accused +him - and falsely!<br/> +<br/> +It was something to be free and abroad in the woods. He heard +the wind singing in the pines. Their fine, penetrating aroma pervaded +the air, and the rusty needles, covering the ground, muffled his tread. +Once he paused - was that the bleat of a fawn, away down on the mountain’s +slope? He heard no more, and he walked on, looking about with +his old alert interest. He was refreshed, invigorated, somehow +consoled, as he went. O wise mother! he wondered if she foresaw +this when she sent him into the woods.<br/> +<br/> +He had not before noted how the season was advancing. Here and +there, in the midst of the dark green foliage, leaves shone so vividly +yellow that it seemed as if upon them some fascinated sunbeam had expended +all its glamours. In a dusky recess he saw the crimson sumach +flaring. And the distant blue mountains, and the furthest reaches +of the azure sky, and the sombre depths of the wooded valley, and the +sheeny splendors of the afternoon sun, and every incident of crag or +chasm - all appeared through a soft purple haze that possessed the air, +and added an ideal embellishment to the scene. Down the ravine +the “lick” shone with the lustre of a silver lakelet. +He saw the old oak-tree hard by, with the historic scaffold among its +thinning leaves, and further along the slope were visible vague bobbing +figures, which he recognized as the “Griggs gang,” seeking +upon the mountain side the gold which he had discovered.<br/> +<br/> +Suddenly he heard a light crackling in the brush, - a faint footfall. +It reminded him of the deer-path close at hand. He crouched down +noiselessly amongst the low growth and lifted his rifle, his eyes fixed +on the point where the path disappeared in the bushes, and where he +would first catch a glimpse of the approaching animal.<br/> +<br/> +He heard the step again. His finger was trembling on the trigger, +when down the path leisurely walked an old gentleman attired in black, +a hammer in his hand, and a pair of gleaming spectacles poised placidly +upon the bridge of an intellectual Roman nose. And this queer +game halted in the middle of the deer-path, all unconscious of his deadly +danger.<br/> +<br/> +It was a wonder that the rifle was not discharged, for the panic-stricken +Birt had lost control of his muscles, and his convulsive finger was +still quivering on the trigger as he trembled from head to foot. +He hardly dared to try to move the gun. For a moment he could +not speak. He gazed in open-mouthed amazement at the unsuspecting +old gentleman, who was also unaware of the far more formidable open +mouth of the rifle.<br/> +<br/> +“Now, ain’t ye lackin’ fur head-stuffin’?” +suddenly yelled out Birt, from his hiding-place.<br/> +<br/> +The startled old man jumped, with the most abrupt alacrity. In +fact, despite his age and the lack of habit, he bounded as acrobatically +from the ground as the expected deer could have done. He was, +it is true, a learned man; but science has no specific for sudden fright, +and he jumped as ignorantly as if he did not know the difficult name +of any of the muscles that so alertly exercised themselves on this occasion.<br/> +<br/> +Birt rose at last to his feet and looked with a pallid face over the +underbrush. “Now, ain’t ye lackin’ fur head-stuffin’,” +he faltered, “a-steppin’ along a deer-path ez nat’ral +ez ef ye war a big fat buck? I kem mighty nigh shootin’ +ye.”<br/> +<br/> +The old gentleman recovered his equilibrium, mental and physical, with +marvelous rapidity.<br/> +<br/> +“Ah, my young friend,” - he motioned to Birt to come nearer, +- ”I want to speak to you.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt stared. One might have inferred, from the tone, that the +gentleman had expected to meet him here, whereas Birt had just had the +best evidence of his senses that the encounter was a great surprise.<br/> +<br/> +The boy observed his interlocutor more carefully than he had yet been +able to do. He remembered all at once Rufe’s queer story +of meeting, down the ravine, an eccentric old man whom he was disposed +to identify as Satan. As the stranger stood there in the deer-path, +he looked precisely as Rufe had described him, even to the baffling +glitter of his spectacles, his gray whiskers, and the curiously shaped +hammer in his hand.<br/> +<br/> +Birt, although bewildered and still tremulous from the shock to his +nerves, was not so superstitious as Rufe, and he shouldered his gun, +and, pushing out from the tangled underbrush, joined the old man in +the path.<br/> +<br/> +“I want,” said the gentleman, “to hire a boy for a +few days - weeks, perhaps.”<br/> +<br/> +He smiled with two whole rows of teeth that never grew where they stood. +Birt wished he could see the expression of the stranger’s eyes, +indistinguishable behind the spectacles that glimmered in the light.<br/> +<br/> +“What do you say to fifty cents a day?” he continued briskly.<br/> +<br/> +Birt’s heart sank suddenly. He had heard that Satan traded +in souls by working on the avarice of the victim. The price suggested +seemed a great deal to Birt, for in this region there is little cash +in circulation, barter serving all the ordinary purposes of commerce.<br/> +<br/> +As he hesitated, the old man eyed him quizzically. “Afraid +of work, eh?”<br/> +<br/> +“Naw, sir!” said Birt, sturdily.<br/> +<br/> +Ah, if the bark-mill, and the old mule, and the tan-pit, and the wood-pile, +and the cornfield might testify!<br/> +<br/> +“Fifty cents a day - eh?” said the stranger.<br/> +<br/> +At the repetition of the sum, it occurred to Birt, growing more familiar +with the eccentricity of his companion, that he ought not in sheer silliness +to throw away a chance for employment.<br/> +<br/> +“Kin I ask my mother?” he said dubiously.<br/> +<br/> +“By all means ask your mother,” replied the stranger heartily.<br/> +<br/> +Birt’s last fantastic doubt vanished. Oh no! this was not +Satan in disguise. When did the enemy ever counsel a boy to ask +his mother!<br/> +<br/> +Birt still stared gravely at him. All the details of his garb, +manner, speech, even the hammer in his hand, were foreign to the boy’s +experience.<br/> +<br/> +Presently he ventured a question. “Do you-uns hail from +hyar-abouts?”<br/> +<br/> +The stranger was frank and communicative. He told Birt that he +was a professor of Natural Science in a college in one of the “valley +towns,” and that he was sojourning, for his health’s sake, +at a little watering-place some twelve miles distant on the bench of +the mountain. Occasionally he made an excursion into the range, +which was peculiarly interesting geologically.<br/> +<br/> +“But what I wish you to do is to dig for - bones.”<br/> +<br/> +“<i>Bones?</i>” faltered Birt.<br/> +<br/> +“Bones,” reiterated the professor solemnly.<br/> +<br/> +<i>Did</i> his spectacles twinkle?<br/> +<br/> +Birt stood silent, vaguely wondering what his mother would think of +“bones.” Presently the professor, seeing that the +boy was not likely to ask amusing questions, explained.<br/> +<br/> +He informed Birt that in the neighborhood of salt licks - ”saline +quagmires” he called them - were often found the remains of animals +of an extinct species, which are of great value to science. He +gave Birt the extremely long name of these animals, and descanted upon +such conditions of their existence as is known, much of which Birt did +not understand. Although this fact was very apparent, it did not +in the least affect the professor’s ardor in the theme. +He was in the habit of talking of these things to boys who did not understand, +and alack! to boys who did not want to understand.<br/> +<br/> +One point, however, he made very clear. With the hope of some +such “find,” he was anxious to investigate this particular +lick, - about which indeed he had heard a vague tradition of a “big +bone” discovery, such as is common to similar localities in this +region, - and for this purpose he proposed to furnish the science and +the fifty cents <i>per diem</i>, and earnestly desired that some one +else should furnish the muscle.<br/> +<br/> +He was accustomed to think much more rapidly than the men with whom +Birt was associated, and his briskness in arranging the matter had an +incongruous suggestion of the giddiness of youth. He said that +he would go home with Birt to fetch the spade, and while there he could +settle the terms with the boy’s mother, and then they could get +to work.<br/> +<br/> +He started off at a dapper gait up the deer-path, while Birt, with his +rifle on his shoulder, followed.<br/> +<br/> +A sudden thought struck Birt. He stopped short.<br/> +<br/> +“Now <i>I</i> dunno which side o’ that thar lick Nate Griggs’s +line runs on,” he remarked.<br/> +<br/> +“Never mind,” said the professor, waving away objections +with airy efficiency; “I shall first secure the consent of the +owner of the land.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt cogitated for a moment. “Nate Griggs ain’t goin’ +ter gin his cornsent ter nobody ter dig ennywhar down the ravine, ef +it air inside o’ his lines,” he said confidently, “‘kase +I - ’kase he - leastwise, ’kase gold hev been fund hyar +lately, an’ he hev entered the land.”<br/> +<br/> +The professor stopped short in the path.<br/> +<br/> +“Gold!” he ejaculated. “Gold!”<br/> +<br/> +Was there a vibration of incredulity in his voice?<br/> +<br/> +Birt remembered all at once the specimens which he had picked up that +memorable evening, down the ravine, when he shot the red fox. +Here they still were in his pocket. They showed lustrous, metallic, +yellow gleams as he placed them carefully in the old man’s outstretched +hand, telling how he came by them, of his mistaken confidence, the betrayed +trust, and ending by pointing at the group of gold-seekers, microscopic +in the distance on the opposite slope.<br/> +<br/> +“I hev hearn tell,” he added, “ez Nate air countin’ +on goin’ pardners with a man in Sparty, who hev got money, to +work the gold mine.”<br/> +<br/> +Now and then, as he talked, he glanced up at his companion’s face, +vaguely expecting to discover his opinion by its expression, but the +light still played in a baffling glitter upon his spectacles.<br/> +<br/> +Birt could only follow when the professor suddenly handed back the specimens +with a peremptory “Come - come! We must go for the spade. +But when we reach your mother’s house I will test this mineral, +and you shall see for yourself what you have lost.”<br/> +<br/> +Mrs. Dicey’s first impression upon meeting the stranger and learning +of his mission was not altogether surprise as Birt had expected. +Her chief absorption was a deep thankfulness that the floors all preserved +their freshly scoured appearance.<br/> +<br/> +“Fur ef Rufe hed been playin’ round hyar ter-day, same ez +common, the rubbish would have been a scandal ter the kentry,” +she reflected.<br/> +<br/> +In fact, all was so neat, albeit so poor, that the stranger felt as +polite as he looked, while he talked to her about employing Birt in +his researches.<br/> +<br/> +Birt, however, had little disposition to listen to this. He was +excited by the prospect of testing the mineral, and he busied himself +with great alacrity in preparing for it under the professor’s +directions. He suffered a qualm, it is true, as he pounded the +shining fragments into a coarse powder, and then he drew out with the +shovel a great glowing mass of live coals on the hearth.<br/> +<br/> +The dogs peered eagerly in at the door, having followed the stranger +with the liveliest curiosity. Towse, bolder than the rest, entered +intrepidly with a nonchalant air and a wagging tail, for he and Rufe, +having failed to find Birt, had just returned home. The small +boy paused on the threshold in amazed recognition of the old gentleman +who had occasioned him such a fright that day down the ravine.<br/> +<br/> +The professor gesticulated a great deal as he bent over the fire and +gave Birt directions, and, with his waving hands and the glow on his +hoary hair and beard, he looked like some fantastic sorcerer. +Somehow Rufe was glad to see the familiar countenances of Pete and Joe, +and was still more reassured to note that his mother was quietly standing +beside the table, as she stirred the batter for bread in a wooden bowl. +Tennessee had pressed close to Birt, her chubby hand clutching his collar +as he knelt on the hearth. He held above the glowing coals a long +fire shovel, on which the pulverized mineral had been placed, and his +eyes were very bright as he earnestly watched it.<br/> +<br/> +“If it is gold,” said the old man, “a moderate heat +will not affect it.”<br/> +<br/> +The shovel was growing hot. The live coals glowed beneath it. +The breath of the fire stirred Tennessee’s flaxen hair. +And Birt’s dilated eyes saw the yellow particles still glistening +unchanged in the centre of the shovel, which was beginning to redden.<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +CHAPTER XI.<br/> +<br/> +Suddenly - was the glistening yellow mineral taking fire? It began +to give off sulphurous fumes. And drifting away with them were +all Birt’s golden visions and Nate’s ill-gotten wealth - +ending in smoke!<br/> +<br/> +The sulphurous odor grew stronger. Even Towse stopped short, and +gazed at the shovel with a reprehensive sniff.<br/> +<br/> +“Ker-shoo!” he sneezed.<br/> +<br/> +And commenting thus, he turned abruptly and went hastily out, with a +startled look and a downcast tail.<br/> +<br/> +His sneeze seemed to break the spell of silence that had fallen on the +little group.<br/> +<br/> +“It be mighty nigh bodaciously changed ter cinders!” exclaimed +Birt, staring in amaze at the lustreless contents of the shovel from +which every suggestion of golden glimmer had faded. “What +do it be, ef ’tain’t gold?”<br/> +<br/> +“Iron pyrites,” said the professor. “‘Fools’ +gold,’ it is often called.”<br/> +<br/> +He explained to Birt that in certain formations, however, gold is associated +with iron pyrites, and when the mineral is properly roasted, this process +serving to expel the sulphur, the fine particles of gold are found held +in the resulting oxide of iron. But the variety of the mineral +discovered down the ravine he said was valueless, unless occurring in +vast quantities, when it is sometimes utilized in the production of +sulphur.<br/> +<br/> +“I wonder,” Birt broke out suddenly, “if the assayer +won’t find no gold in them samples ez Nate sent him.”<br/> +<br/> +The professor laughed. “The assayer will need the ‘philosopher’s +stone’ to find gold in any samples from this locality.”<br/> +<br/> +“Ye knowed then, all the time, ez this stuff warn’t gold?” +asked Birt.<br/> +<br/> +“All the time,” rejoined the elder.<br/> +<br/> +“An’ Nate hev got the steepest, rockiest spot in the kentry +ter pay taxes on,” resumed Birt, reflectively. “An’ +he hev shelled out a power o’ money ter the surveyor, an’ +sech, a’ready. I reckon he’ll be mightily outed when +he finds out ez the min’ral ain’t gold.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt stopped short in renewed anxiety.<br/> +<br/> +That missing grant! Somehow he felt sure that Nate, balked of +the great gains he had promised himself, would wreak his disappointment +wherever he might; and since the land was of so little value, he would +not continue to deny himself his revenge for fear that an investigation +into the priority of the mineral’s discovery might invalidate +the entry. Once more Birt was tortured by the terror of arrest +- he might yet suffer a prosecution from malignity, which had hitherto +been withheld from policy. If only the mystery of the lost grant +could be solved!<br/> +<br/> +The conversation of the elders had returned to the subject of the investigations +around the “lick” and the terms for Birt’s services. +As so much time had been consumed with the pyrites, the professor concluded +with some vexation that they could hardly arrange all the preliminaries +and get to work this afternoon.<br/> +<br/> +“I dare say we had best begin to-morrow morning,” he said +at last.<br/> +<br/> +“Birt can’t go a-diggin’ no-ways, this evenin’,” +put in the officious Rufe, who stood, according to his wont, listening +with his mouth and eyes wide open, “‘kase ez I kem home +by the tanyard Jube Perkins hollered ter me ter tell Birt ter come thar +right quick. I furgot it till this minit,” he added, with +a shade of embarrassment that might pass for apology.<br/> +<br/> +Birt felt a prophetic thrill. This summons promised developments +of importance. Only a few hours ago he was discharged under suspicion +of dishonesty; why this sudden recall? He did not know whether +hope or fear was paramount. He trembled with eager expectancy. +He seized his hat, and strode out of the house without waiting to hear +more of the professor’s plans or the details of the wages.<br/> +<br/> +He had reached the fence before he discovered Tennessee close at his +heels. He cast his troubled eyes down upon her, and met her pleading, +upturned gaze. He was about to charge her to go back. But +then he remembered how she had followed him with blessings - how mercy +had kept pace with her steps. He would not deny her the simple +boon she craved, and if she were troublesome and in his way, surely +he might be patient with her, since she loved him so! He lifted +her over the fence, and then started briskly down the path, the sturdy, +light-footed little mountain girl delightedly trudging along in the +rear.<br/> +<br/> +When he entered the tanyard no one was there except Jube Perkins and +Andy Byers the tanner, lounging as usual on the wood-pile, and the workman, +with scarcely less the aspect of idleness, dawdlingly scraping a hide +on the wooden horse. Birt discerned a portent in the unwonted +solemnity of their faces, and his heart sank.<br/> +<br/> +“Waal, Birt, we-uns hev been a-waitin’ fur ye,” said +the tanner in a subdued, grave tone that somehow reminded Birt of the +bated voices in a house of death. “Set down hyar on the +wood-pile, fur Andy an’ me hev got a word ter say ter ye.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt’s dilated black eyes turned in dumb appeal from one to the +other as he sank down on the wood-pile. His suspense gnawed him +like an actual grief while Jubal Perkins slowly shifted his position +and looked vaguely at Andy Byers for a suggestion, being uncertain how +to begin.<br/> +<br/> +“Waal, Birt,” he drawled at last, “ez yer dad is dead +an’ ye hev got nobody ter see arter ye an’ advise ye, Andy +an’ me, we-uns agreed ez how we’d talk ter ye right plain, +an’ try ter git ye ter jedge o’ this hyar matter like we-uns +do. Andy an’ me know more ’bout the law, an’ +’bout folks too, than ye does. These hyar Griggs folks hev +always been misdoubted ez a fractious an’ contrary-wise fambly. +Ef enny Griggs ain’t aggervatin’ an’ captious, it +air through bein’ plumb terrified by the t’others. +They air powerful hard folks - an’ they’ll land ye in the +State Prison yet, I’m thinkin’. I wonder they hain’t +started at ye a’ready. But thar’s no countin’ +on ’em, ’ceptin’ that they’ll do all they kin +that air ha’sh an’ grindin’.”<br/> +<br/> +“That air a true word, Birt,” said Andy Byers, speaking +to the boy for the first time in many days. “Ef they hev +thar reason fur it, they mought hold thar hand fur a time, but fust +or las’ they’ll hev all out’n ye ez the law will allow +’em.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt listened in desperation. All this was sharpened by the certainty +that the mineral was only valueless pyrites, and the prescience of Nate’s +anger when this fact should come to his knowledge, and prudence no longer +restrain him. His rage would vent itself on his luckless victim +for every cent, every mill, that the discovery of the “fools’ +gold” had cost him.<br/> +<br/> +“They’ll be takin’ ye away from the mountings ter +jail ye an’ try ye, an’ mebbe ye’ll go ter the pen’tiary +arter that. An’ how will yer mother, an’ brothers, +an’ sister, git thar vittles, an’ firewood, an’ corn-crap +an’ clothes, an’ sech - Rufe bein’ the oldest child, +arter you-uns?” demanded the tanner. “An’ even +when ye git back - I hate ter tell ye this word - nobody will want ye +round. They’ll be feared ye’d be forever pickin’ +an’ stealin’.”<br/> +<br/> +“But we-uns will stand up fur ye, bein’ ez ye air the widder’s +son,” said Byers eagerly. “We-uns will gin the Griggs +tribe ter onderstand that.”<br/> +<br/> +“An’ mebbe the Griggses won’t want ter do nuthin’, +ef they hain’t got no furder cause fur holdin’ a grudge,” +put in the tanner.<br/> +<br/> +“What be ye a-layin’ off fur me ter do?” asked Birt +wonderingly.<br/> +<br/> +“Ter gin Nate’s grant back ter him,” they both replied +in a breath.<br/> +<br/> +“I hev not got it!” cried poor Birt tumultuously. +“I never stole it! I dunno whar it be!”<br/> +<br/> +The tanner’s expression changed from paternal kindliness to contemptuous +anger.<br/> +<br/> +“Air ye goin’ ter keep on bein’ a liar, Birt, ez well +ez a thief?” he said sternly.<br/> +<br/> +“I dunno whar it be,” reiterated Birt desperately.<br/> +<br/> +“<i>I</i> know whar it be,” said Byers. Birt gazed +at him astounded.<br/> +<br/> +“Whar?” he cried eagerly.<br/> +<br/> +“Whar ye hid it,” returned Byers coolly.<br/> +<br/> +Birt’s lips moved with difficulty as he huskily ejaculated “I +never hid it - I never!”<br/> +<br/> +“Ye needn’t deny it. I ez good ez seen ye hide it.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt looked dazed for a moment. Then the blood rushed to his face +and as suddenly receded, leaving it pale and rigid. He was cold +and trembling. He could not speak.<br/> +<br/> +The tanner scrutinized him narrowly. Then he said, “Tell +him ’bout it, Andy. Tell him jes’ ez ye tole me. +An’ mebbe he’ll hev sense enough ter gin it up when he sees +he air fairly caught.”<br/> +<br/> +“Waal,” said Byers, leaning back against the wall of the +smoke-house, and holding the knife idly poised in his hand, “I +kem down ter the tanyard betimes that mornin’ arter the storm. +Both ye an’ Birt war late. I noticed Nate Griggs’s +coat hangin’ thar in the shed, with a paper stickin’ out’n +the pocket, ez I started inter the smoke-house ter tend ter the fire. +I reckon I mus’ hev made consider’ble racket in thar, ’kase +I never hearn nuthin’ till I sot down afore the fire on a log +o’ wood, an’ lit my pipe. All of a suddenty thar kem +a step outside, toler’ble light on the tan. I jes’ +’lowed ’t war ye or Birt. But I happened ter look +up, an’ thar I see a couple o’ big black eyes peepin’ +through that thar crack in the wall.”<br/> +<br/> +He turned and pointed out a crevice where the “daubin’” +had fallen from the “chinkin’” between the logs.<br/> +<br/> +“Ye can see,” he resumed, “ez this hyar crack air +jes’ the height o’ Birt. Waal, them eyes lookin’ +in so onexpected didn’t ’sturb me none. I hev knowed +the Dicey eye fur thirty year, an’ thar ain’t none like +’em nowhar round the mountings. But I ’lowed ’t +war toler’ble sassy in Birt ter stand thar peerin’ at me +through the chinkin’. I never let on, though, ez I viewed +him. An’ then, them eyes jes’ set up sech a outdacious +winkin’ an’ wallin’, an’ squinchin’, ez +I knowed he war makin’ faces at me. So I jes’ riz +up - an’ the eyes slipped away from thar in a hurry. I war +aimin’ ter larrup Birt fur his sass, but I stopped ter hang up +a skin ez I hed knocked down. It never tuk me long, much, but +when I went out, thar warn’t nobody ter be seen in the tanyard.”<br/> +<br/> +He paused to place one foot upon the wooden horse, and he leaned forward +with a reflective expression, his elbow on his knee, and his hand holding +his bearded chin.<br/> +<br/> +The afternoon was waning. The scarlet sun in magnified splendor +was ablaze low down in the saffron west. The world seemed languorously +afloat in the deep, serene flood of light. Shadows were lengthening +slowly. The clangor of a cow-bell vibrated in the distance.<br/> +<br/> +The drone of Andy Byers’s voice overbore it as he recommenced.<br/> +<br/> +“Waal, I was sorter conflusticated, an’ I looked round powerful +sharp ter see whar Birt hed disappeared to. I happened ter cut +my eye round at that thar pit ez he hed finished layin’ the tan +in, an’ kivered with boards, an’ weighted with rocks that +day ez ye an’ me hed ter go an’ attend on old Mrs. Price. +Ye know we counted ez that thar pit wouldn’t be opened ag’in +fur a right smart time?”<br/> +<br/> +The tanner nodded assent.<br/> +<br/> +“Waal, I noticed ez the aidge o’ one o’ them boards +war sot sorter catawampus, an’ I ’lowed ez ’t war +the wind ez hed ’sturbed it. Ez I stooped down ter move +it back in its place, I seen su’thin’ white under it. +So I lifted the board, an’ thar I see, lyin’ on the tan +a-top o’ the pit, a stiff white paper. I looked round toward +the shed, an’ thar hung the coat yit - with nuthin’ in the +pocket. I didn’t know edzactly what ter make of it, an’ +I jes’ shunted the plank back over the paper in the pit like I +fund it, an’ waited ter see what mought happen. An’ +all the time ez that thar racket war goin’ on bout’n the +grant, I knowed powerful well whar ’t war, an’ who stole +it.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt looked from one to the other of the two men. Both evidently +believed every syllable of this story. It was so natural, so credible, +that he had a curious sense of inclining toward it, too. Had he +indeed, in some aberration, taken the grant? Was it some tricksy +spirit in his likeness that had peered through the chinking at Andy +Byers?<br/> +<br/> +He could find no words to contend further. He sat silent, numb, +dumfounded.<br/> +<br/> +“Birt,” said the tanner coaxingly, “thar ain’t +no use in denyin’ it enny mo’. Let’s go an’ +git that grant, an’ take it ter Nate an’ tell the truth.”<br/> +<br/> +The words roused Birt. He clutched at the idea of getting possession +of the paper that had so mysteriously disappeared and baffled and eluded +him. He could at least return it. And even if this should +fail to secure him lenient treatment, he would feel that he had done +right. He rose suddenly in feverish anxiety.<br/> +<br/> +Andy Byers and Perkins, exchanging a wink of congratulation, followed +him to the pit.<br/> +<br/> +“It air under this hyar board,” said Byers, moving one of +the heavy stones, and lifting a broad plank.<br/> +<br/> +Perkins pressed forward with eager curiosity, never having seen this +famous grant.<br/> +<br/> +The ground bark on the surface was pretty dry, the layer being ten or +fifteen inches thick, and the tanning infusion had not yet risen through +it.<br/> +<br/> +Byers stared with a frown at the tan, and lifted another board. +Nothing appeared beneath it on the smooth surface of the bark.<br/> +<br/> +In sudden alarm they took away the boards, one after another, till all +were removed, and the whole surface of the pit was exposed.<br/> +<br/> +Then they looked at each other, bewildered. For once more the +grant was gone.<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +<br/> +CHAPTER XII.<br/> +<br/> +Jubal Perkins broke the silence.<br/> +<br/> +“Andy Byers,” he exclaimed wrathfully, “what sort +’n tale is this ez ye air tryin’ ter fool me with?”<br/> +<br/> +Byers, perturbed and indignant, was instantly ready to accuse Birt.<br/> +<br/> +“Ye hev been hyar an’ got the grant an’ sneaked it +off agin, hev ye!” he cried, scowling at the boy.<br/> +<br/> +Then he turned to the tanner. “I hope I may drap dead, Jube,” +he said earnestly, “ef that grant warn’t right hyar” +- he pointed at the spot - ”las’ night whenst I lef’ +the tanyard. I always looked late every evenin’ ter be sure +it hedn’t been teched, thinkin’ I’d make up my mind +in the night whether I’d tell on Birt, or no. But I never +could git plumb sati’fied what to do.”<br/> +<br/> +His tone carried conviction. The tanner looked at Birt with disappointment +in every line of his face. There was severity, too, in his expression. +He was beginning to admit the fitness of harsh punishment in this case.<br/> +<br/> +“Ye don’t wuth all this gabblin’ an’ jawin’ +over ye, ye miser’ble leetle critter,” he said. “An’ +I ain’t goin’ ter waste another breath on ye.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt stood vacantly staring at the tan. All the energy of the +truth was nullified by the futility of protestation.<br/> +<br/> +The two men exchanged a glance of vague comment upon his silence, and +then they too looked idly down at the pit.<br/> +<br/> +Tennessee abruptly caught Birt’s listless hand as it hung at his +side, for Towse had suddenly entered the tanyard, and prancing up to +her in joyous recognition, was trying to lick her face.<br/> +<br/> +“G’way, Towse,” she drawled gutturally. She +struck vaguely at him with her chubby little fist, which he waggishly +took between his teeth in a gingerly gentle grip.<br/> +<br/> +“Stand back thar, Tennessee,” Birt murmured mechanically.<br/> +<br/> +As usual, Towse was the precursor of Rufe, who presently dawdled out +from the underbrush. He quickened his steps upon observing the +intent attitude of the party, and as he came up he demanded vivaciously, +“What ails that thar pit o’ yourn, Mister Perkins? - thought +ye said ’t warn’t goin’ ter be opened ag’in +fore-shortly.”<br/> +<br/> +For a moment the tanner made no reply. Then he drawled absently, +“Nuthin’ ails the pit, Rufe - nuthin’.”<br/> +<br/> +Rufe sat down on the edge of it, and gazed speculatively at it. +Presently he began anew, unabashed by the silence of the grave and contemplative +group.<br/> +<br/> +“This hyar tan hev got sorter moist atop now; I wonder ef that +thar grant o’ Nate’s got spi’led ennywise with the +damp.”<br/> +<br/> +Birt winced. It had been a certain mitigation of his trouble that, +thanks to his mother’s caution, the children at home knew nothing +of the disgrace that had fallen upon him, and that there, at least, +the atmosphere was untainted with suspicion.<br/> +<br/> +The next moment he was impressed by the singularity of Rufe’s +mention of the missing grant and its place of concealment.<br/> +<br/> +“Look-a-hyar, Rufe,” he exclaimed, excitedly; “how +d’ye know ennything ’bout Nate’s grant an’ whar +’t war hid?”<br/> +<br/> +Rufe glanced up scornfully, insulted in some occult manner by the question.<br/> +<br/> +“How did I know, Birt Dicey? How d’ye know yerse’f?” +he retorted. “I knows a heap, ginerally.”<br/> +<br/> +Perkins, catching the drift of Birt’s intention, came to the rescue.<br/> +<br/> +“Say, bub, how d’ye know the grant war ever put hyar?”<br/> +<br/> +“Kase,” responded Rufe, more amicably, “I seen it +put hyar - right yander.”<br/> +<br/> +He indicated the spot where the paper lay, according to Byers, when +it was discovered.<br/> +<br/> +Birt could hardly breathe. His anxieties, his hopes, his fears, +seemed a pursuing pack before which he was almost spent. He panted +like a hunted creature. Tennessee was swinging herself to and +fro, holding by his hand. Sometimes she caught at Towse’s +unlovely ear, as he sat close by with his tongue lolled out and an attentive +air, as if he were assisting at the discussion.<br/> +<br/> +“Who put it thar, bub?” demanded Perkins.<br/> +<br/> +It would not have surprised Birt, so perverse had been the course of +events, if Rufe had accused him on the spot.<br/> +<br/> +“Pig-wigs Griggs,” replied Rufe, unexpectedly.<br/> +<br/> +A glance of intelligence passed between the men.<br/> +<br/> +“Tell ’bout it, Rufe,” said the tanner, suppressing +all appearance of excitement.<br/> +<br/> +“Ye ain’t goin’ ter do nuthin’ ter Pig-wigs +fur foolin’ with yer pit, ef I tell ye?” asked Rufe, quickly.<br/> +<br/> +“Naw, bub, naw. Which Griggs do ye call ‘Pig-wigs?’”<br/> +<br/> +“Why - <i>Pig-wigs</i>,” Rufe reiterated obviously.<br/> +<br/> +Then he explained. “He air Nate’s nevy. He air +Nate’s oldest brother’s biggest boy, - though he ain’t +sizable much. He air ’bout haffen ez big ez me - ef that,” +he added reflectively, thinking that even thus divided he had represented +Pig-wigs as more massive than the facts justified.<br/> +<br/> +“Ye see,” he continued, “one day when his uncle Tim +war over hyar ter the tanyard, I gin him one o’ my game deedies; +an’ ez soon ez he got home he showed ’em all that thar deedie +- powerful, spryest poultry ye ever see!”<br/> +<br/> +Rufe smiled ecstatically as only a chicken fancier can.<br/> +<br/> +“An’ Pig-wigs war plumb <i>de</i>-stracted fur a deedie +too. An’ he run all the way over hyar ter git me ter gin +him one. But the deedies hed all gone ter bed, an’ the old +hen war hoverin’ of ’em, an’ I didn’t want ter +’sturb ’em,” said Rufe considerately. “So +I tole Pig-wigs ter meet me at the tanyard early, an’ I’d +fetch him one. An’ ez his granny war goin’ visitin’ +her merried daughter, she let him ride behind her on thar sorrel mare +ez fur ez the tanyard. So he got hyar ’fore I did. +An’ I kem an’ gin him the deedie.”<br/> +<br/> +Rufe paused abruptly, as if, having narrated this important transaction, +he had exhausted the interest of the subject.<br/> +<br/> +Byers was about to speak, but the tanner with a gesture repressed him.<br/> +<br/> +“Ye hain’t tole ’bout the pit an’ the grant +yit, bubby,” he reminded the small boy.<br/> +<br/> +Byers’s display of impatience was not lost upon Rufe, and it added +to the general acrimony of their relations.<br/> +<br/> +“Waal,” the small boy began alertly, “we-uns hed the +deedie behind the smoke-house thar, an’ I seen <i>him</i>” +- Rufe pointed at Byers with disfavor - ”a-comin’ powerful +slow inter the tanyard, an’ I whispered ter Pig-wigs Griggs ter +be quiet, an’ not let <i>him</i> know ez we-uns war thar, ’kase +he war always a-jawin’ at me, ’thout the tanner war by ter +keep him off’n me. So we-uns bided thar till <i>he</i> went +inter the smoke-house. An’ then ez we-uns kem by the shed, +Pig-wigs seen his uncle Nate’s coat hangin’ on a peg thar, +’kase that thar triflin’ Tim hed furgot, an’ lef’ +it thar when he went ter see the deedies. An’ Pig-wigs Griggs, +he ’lowed he knowed the coat war his uncle Nate’s by the +favior of it, an’ he reckoned the paper stickin’ out’n +the pocket war the grant he hed hearn Nate talkin’ ’bout. +An’ I whispered ter him ez he hed better ondertake ter tote it +home ter Nate. An’ Pig-wigs said he couldn’t tote +the coat, bein’ so lumbered up with the deedie. But he would +tote the grant in one hand an’ the deedie in t’other. +He couldn’t put the deedie in one o’ his pockets, ’kase +his mother sews ’em all up, bein’ ez he <i>would</i> kerry +sech a passel o’ heavy truck in ’em, - rocks an’ sech, +reg’lar bowlders,” added Rufe, with a casual remembrance +of the museum in his own pockets. “So Pig-wigs’s mother +sewed ’em all up, ’kase she said they war tore out all the +time, an’ she seen no sense in a boy hevin’ a lot o’ +slits in his clothes ter let in the air slanchwise on him. An’ +Pig-wigs ’lowed he’d tote the grant ef I would git it fur +him. An’ I did.”<br/> +<br/> +“How did you-uns reach up ter that thar peg?” demanded Byers, +pointing to the peg on which the coat had hung, far beyond Rufe’s +reach.<br/> +<br/> +“Clumb up on the wooden horse,” said Rufe promptly. +“I peeked through the chinkin’ an’ seen ye thar a-smokin’ +yer pipe over the fire.”<br/> +<br/> +Rufe winked audaciously, suddenly convincing Byers as to the possessor +of the big black eyes, which he had recognized as characteristic of +the Dicey family, when they had peered through the chinking.<br/> +<br/> +“Waal, how did the grant git inter the pit, Rufe, an’ what +hev become of it?” asked Byers, overlooking these personalities, +for he felt a certain anxiety in the matter, being the last person known +to have seen the grant, which, by reason of his delay and indecision, +had again been spirited away.<br/> +<br/> +“Pig-wigs put it thar, I tell ye,” reiterated Rufe. +“Ye see, I hed got outside o’ the gate, an’ Pig-wigs +war a good ways behind, walkin’ toler’ble slow, bein’ +ez he hed ter kerry the grant in one hand an’ the deedie in t’other. +An’ thar I see a-cropin’ along on the ground a young rabbit +- reg’lar baby rabbit. An’ I motioned ter Pig-wigs +ter come quick - I hed fund suthin’. An’ ez Pig-wigs +couldn’t put the deedie down, he laid the grant on top o’ +the boards ez kivered the pit. But the wind war brief, an’ +kem mighty nigh blowin’ that grant away. So Pig-wigs jes’ +stuck it down ’twixt two planks, an’ kem ter holp me ketch +the rabbit. But Pig-wigs warn’t no ’count ter holp. +An’ the rabbit got away. An’ whilst Pig-wigs war foolin’ +round, he drapped his deedie, an’ stepped on it - tromped the +life out’n it.” Rufe’s expression was of funereal +gravity. “An’ then he follered me every foot o’ +the way home, beggin’ an’ beggin’ me ter gin him another. +But I wouldn’t. I won’t gin no more o’ my deedies +ter be tromped on, all round the mounting.”<br/> +<br/> +Rufe evidently felt that the line must be drawn somewhere.<br/> +<br/> +“An’ what hev gone with that thar grant? ’T +war hyar yestiddy.”<br/> +<br/> +“I dunno,” responded Rufe, carelessly. “Mebbe +Pig-wigs reminded hisself ’bout’n it arter awhile, an’ +kem an’ got it.”<br/> +<br/> +This proved to be the case. For Andy Byers concerned himself enough +in the matter to ride the old mule over to Nate’s home, to push +the inquiries. Nate was just emerging from the door. The +claybank mare, saddled and bridled, stood in front of the cabin. +He was evidently about to mount.<br/> +<br/> +“Look-a-hyar, ye scamp!” Byers saluted him gruffly, “whyn’t +ye let we-uns know ez ye hed got back that thar grant o’ yourn, +ez hev sot the whole mounting catawampus? Pig-wigs hearn ye talkin’ +’bout it at las’, and tole ye ez he hed it, I s’pose?”<br/> +<br/> +Nate affected to examine the saddle-girth. He looked furtively +over the mare’s shoulder at Andy Byers. He could not guess +how much of the facts had been developed. In sheer perversity +he was tempted to deny that he had the grant. But Byers was a +heavy man of scant patience, and he wore a surly air that boded ill +to a trifler.<br/> +<br/> +Nate nodded admission.<br/> +<br/> +“Pig-wigs fotched it home, eh?” demanded Byers, leaning +downward.<br/> +<br/> +Once more Nate lifted his long, thin questioning face. His craft +had no encouragement.<br/> +<br/> +“Ef ye be minded to call him ‘Pig-wigs’ - his right +name air Benjymen - ’t war him ez fotched it home.”<br/> +<br/> +“Now ye air a mighty cantankerous, quar’lsome, aggervatin’ +critter!” Byers broke out irritably. “Ain’t +ye ’shamed o’ this hyar hurrah ye hev kicked up fur nuthin’? +accusin’ o’ Birt wrongful, an’ sech?”<br/> +<br/> +“Naw; I ain’t ’shamed o’ nuthin’!” +said Nate hardily, springing into the saddle. “I’m +a-ridin’ ter the Settle<i>mint</i> ter git word from the assayer +’bout’n the gold ez I hev fund. An’ when I rides +back I’ll be wuth more’n enny man in the mountings or Sparty +either!”<br/> +<br/> +And he gave the mare the whip, and left Andy Byers, with his mouth full +of rebukes, sitting motionless on the dozing old mule.<br/> +<br/> +The mare came back from the Settlement late that night under lash and +spur, at a speed she had never before made. Day was hardly astir +when Nate Griggs, wild-eyed and haggard, appeared at the tanyard in +search of Birt. He was loud with reproaches, for the assayer had +pronounced the “gold” only worthless iron pyrites. +He had received, too, a jeering letter from his proposed partner in +Sparta, who had found sport in playing on his consequential ignorance +and fancied sharpness. And now Nate declared that Birt, also, +had known that the mineral was valueless, and had from the first befooled +him. In some way he would compel Birt to refund all the money +that had been expended. How piteous was Nate as he stood and checked +off, on his trembling fingers, the surveyor’s fee, the entry-taker’s +fee, the register’s fee, the secretary of State’s fee, the +assayer’s fee - Oh, ruin, ruin! And what had he to show +for it! a tract of crags and chasms and precipitous gravelly slopes +and gullies worth not a mill an acre! And this was all - for the +office of laughing-stock has no emoluments. Where was Birt? +He would hold Birt to account.<br/> +<br/> +Andy Byers, listening, thought how well it was for Birt that Nate no +longer had the loss of the grant as a grievance.<br/> +<br/> +Perkins mysteriously beckoned Nate aside. “Nate,” +he said in a low voice, “Birt air powerful mad ’bout that +thar accusin’ him o’ stealin’ the grant, when ’t +war some o’ yer own folks, ‘Pig-wigs,’ ez hed it all +the time. I seen him goin’ ’long towards yer house +a leetle while ago. I reckon he air lookin’ fur you. +He hed that big cowhide, ez I gin him t’other day, in one hand. +Ye jes’ take the road home, an’ ye’ll ketch up with +him sure.”<br/> +<br/> +Nate’s wits were in disastrous eclipse. Could he deduce +nothing from the tanner’s grin? He spent the day at the +Settlement without ostensible reason, and only at nightfall did he return +home, and by a devious route, very different from that indicated by +Jubal Perkins.<br/> +<br/> +Inquiry developed the fact that the boundaries of Nate’s land +did not include the salt lick, and his talents as an obstructer were +not called into play. The professor was free to dig as he chose +for the antique bones he sought, and many a long day did he and Birt +spend in this sequestered spot, with the great crags towering above +and the darkling vistas of the ravine on either hand. There was +a long stretch of sunny weather, and somehow that shifting purple haze +accented all its languorous lustres. It seemed a vague sort of +poetry a-loose in the air, and color had license. The law which +decreed that a leaf should be green was a dead letter. How gallantly +red and yellow they flared; and others, how tenderly pink, and gray, +and purplish of hue! What poly-tinted fancies underfoot in the +moss! Strange visitants came from the north. Flocks of birds, +southward bound, skimmed these alien skies. Sometimes they alighted +on the tree-tops or along the banks of the torrent, chattering in great +excitement, commenting mightily on the country.<br/> +<br/> +Birt had never been so light-hearted as during these days. The +cessation of anxiety was itself a sort of happiness. The long, +hard ordeal to which the truth had subjected him had ended triumphantly.<br/> +<br/> +“Mighty onexpected things happen in this worl’,” he +said, reflectively. “It ’pears powerful cur’ous +to me, arter all ez hev come an’ gone, ez <i>I</i> ain’t +no loser by that thar gold mine down the ravine.”<br/> +<br/> +He himself was surprised that he did not rejoice in Nate’s mortification +and defeat. But somehow he had struck a moral equilibrium; in +mastering his anger and thirst for revenge, he had gained a stronger +control of all the more unworthy impulses of his nature.<br/> +<br/> +Meantime there was woe at the tanyard. Jube Perkins had been anxious +to have Birt resume his old place on the old terms. The professor, +however, would not release the boy from his engagement. It seemed +that this man of science could deduce subtle distinctions of character +in the mere wielding of a spade. He had never seen, he said, any +one dig so conscientiously and so intelligently as Birt. The tanner +suddenly found that conscience might prove a factor even in so simple +a matter as driving the old mule around the bark-mill. The boy +who had taken Birt’s place was a sullen, intractable fellow, and +brutal. When he yelled and swore and plied the lash, the old mule +would occasionally back his ears. The climax came one day when +the rash boy kicked the animal. Now this reminded the mild-mannered +old mule of his own youthful prowess as a kicker. He revived his +reputation. He seemed to stand on his fore-legs and his muzzle, +while his hind-legs played havoc behind him. The terrified boy +dared not come near him. The bark-mill itself was endangered. +Jube Perkins had not done so much work for a twelvemonth as in his efforts +to keep the boy, the mule, and the bark-mill going together.<br/> +<br/> +There were no “finds” down by the lick to rejoice the professor, +and he went away at last boneless, except in so far as nature had provided +him. He left Birt amply rewarded for his labor. So independent +did Mrs. Dicey feel with this sum of money in reserve, that she would +not agree that Birt should work on the old terms with the tanner. +Birt was dismayed by this temerity. Once more, however, he recognized +her acumen, for Jubal Perkins, although he left the house in a huff, +came back again and promised good wages. Ignorant and simple as +she was, her keen instinct for her son’s best interest, his true +welfare, endowed her words with wisdom. Thenceforth he esteemed +no friend, no ally, equal to his mother.<br/> +<br/> +It delighted him to witness her triumph in the proof of his innocence, +and indeed she did not in this matter bear herself with meekness. +It made him feel so prosperous to note her relapse into her old caustic +habit of speech. Ah, if he were hurt or sore beset, every word +would be tenderness.<br/> +<br/> +Birt shortly compassed a much desired object. The mule’s +revival of his ancient glories as a “turrible kicker” had +injured his market value, and Birt’s earnings enabled him to purchase +the animal at a low price. The mule lived to a great age, always +with his master as “mild-mannered” as a lamb.<br/> +<br/> +For some time Birt saw nothing of Nate, but one day the quondam friends +met face to face on a narrow, precipitous path on the mountain side. +Abject fear was expressed in Nate’s sharp features, for escape +was impossible.<br/> +<br/> +There was no need of either fear or flight.<br/> +<br/> +“How air ye, I’on Pyrite!” cried Birt cheerfully.<br/> +<br/> +The martyr’s countenance changed.<br/> +<br/> +“Ye never done me right ’bout that thar mine, Birt Dicey,” +Nate said reproachfully. “Ye mus’ hev knowed from +the fust ez them thar rocks war good fur nuthin’.”<br/> +<br/> +“Ye air the deceivinest sandy-headed Pyrite that ever war on the +top o’ this mounting, an’ ye knows it,” Birt retorted +in high good humor; “an’ ef it war wuth my while I’d +gin ye a old-fashion larrupin’ jes’ ter pay ye fur the trick +ez ye played on me. But I ain’t keerin’ fur that, +now. Stan’ back thar, Tennessee!”<br/> +<br/> +Since then, Tennessee, always preserving the influence she wielded that +memorable night, has grown to be a woman - never pretty, but, as her +brother still stoutly avers, “powerful peart.” + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 5306 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + |