 CHAPTER I THE SNOW HAD SEESED FALLING. No wind stirred among the trees that covered the hillsides, and every shrub, every leaf and twig still bore its feathery white load. Slowly the train labored upward, with two engines to take it to the steepest part of the climb from the valley below. David's thring gazed out into the quiet, white wilderness and was glad. He had hoped Carew's crossing was not beyond all this, where the ragged edge of civilization, out of which the toiling train had so lately lifted them, would begin again. He glanced from time to time at the young woman near the door, who sat as the bishop had left her, one slight hand grasping the handle of her basket, and with an expression on her face his placid and fraught with mystery as the scene without. The train began to crawl more heavily and, looking down, thrings saw that they were crossing a trestle over a deep gorge before skirting the mountain on the other side. Suddenly it occurred to him that he might be carried beyond his station. He stopped the smiling young breakman who was passing with his flag. Let me know when we come to Carew's crossing, will you? Next stop, sir. Are you for that, sir? Yes. How soon? Half an hour more, sir. I'll be back directly and help you off, sir. It's a flag station. We don't stop there in winter that we'll call to, sir. Hotels close now. Hotel. Is there a hotel? Thrings' voice betokened dismay. Yes, sir. It's a rot-gay little place in Samasa. He passed on and Thring gathered his scattered effects. Ill and weary he was glad to find his long journey so nearly at an end. On either side of the track, as far as I could see, was a snow-witened wilderness seemingly untouched by the hand of man, and he felt as if he had been carried back two hundred years. The only hint that these fastnesses had been invaded by human beings was an occasional rough, deeply red wagon-road winding off among the hills. The long trestle crossed, the engines labored slowly upward for a time, then, turning a sharp curve, began to descend, tearing along the narrow track with a speed that caused the coaches to rock and sway, and thus they reached Kairu's crossing, dropping down to it like a rushing torrent. Immediately Thring found himself deposited in the melting snow some distance from the station platform, and at the same instant, above the noise of the retreating train, he heard a cry. Oh, sir! Help him! Help him! It's poor little foil! The girl whom he had watched and about whom he had been wondering flashed by him and caught at the bridle of a fractious colt that was rearing and plunging near the corner of the station. Poor little foil! Help him, sir! Help him! She cried, clinging desperately, while the frantic animal swung her off her feet, close to the flying heels of the kicking mule at his side. Under the heavy vehicle to which the ill-assorted animals were attached, a child lay unconscious, and David sprang forward, his weakness forgotten in the demand for action. In an instant he had drawn the little chap from his perilous position and, seizing the mule, succeeded in backing him to his place. The cause of its fright having by this time disappeared, the colt became tractable and stood quivering and snorting. David took the bridle from the girl's hand. All quiet them now, he said, and she ran to the boy, who had recovered sufficiently to sit up and gaze in a dazed way about him. As she bent over him, murmuring soothing words, he threw his arm around her neck and burst into wild sobbing. There, honey, there! No one is hurt. You are not, are you, honey son? I couldn't keep a hold of them, he sobbed. You shouldn't have done it, honey. You should have let me get home as best I could. Her face was one which could express much, passive as it had been before. Where was Frail? He took the other horse and lit out. There was after him the... Shhh! There, hush! You can stand now. Try, Hoel. You're a man now. The little fellow rose and, perceiving Thring for the first time, stepped shyly behind his sister. David noticed that he had a deformity which caused him to carry his head twisted stiffly to one side, and also that he had great, beautiful brown eyes, so like those of a hunted fawn as he turned them upon the stranger with wide appeal, that he seemed a veritable creature of the wilderness by which they were surrounded. Then the girl stepped forward and thanked him with voice and eyes, but he scarcely understood the word she said as her tones trailed lingering over the vowels and almost eliminated the hour so light was it touched. While her accent felt utterly strange upon his English ear, she looked to the harness with practiced eye and then laid her hand beside Thring's on the bridle. It was a strong, shapely hand and wrist. I can manage now, she said. Hoel, get my basket, fall me. But Thring suggested that she climb in and take the reins first, although the animal stood quietly enough now. The mule looked even dejected with hanging head and forward drooping ears. The girl spoke gently to the colt, stroking him along the side and murmuring to him in a cooing voice as she mounted to the high seat and gathered up the reins. Then the two beasts settled themselves to their places, with a wantonness that assured Thring they would be perfectly manageable under her hand. David turned to the child, relieved him of the basket, which was heavy with unusual weight, and would have lifted him up, but Hoel eluded his grasp and, scrambling over the wheel with catlike agility, slipped shyly into his place close to the girl's side. Then, with more than childlike thoughtfulness, the boy looked up into her face and said in a low voice, The gentleman's things is all beyond about the track-caste. He can't totem alone, I reckon. Why is it going? Then Thring remembered himself and his needs. He looked at the line of track, curving away up the mountainside in one direction, and in the other lost in a deep cut in the hills, at the steep red banks rising high on each side, arched over by leafy forest growth, with all the interlacing branches and smallest twigs bearing their delicate burden of white, feathery snow. He caught his breath as a sense of the strange, untamed beauty, marvellous and utterly lonely, struck upon him. Beyond the tracks, high up on the mountain slope, he thought he spied, well-nigh hid from sight by the pines, the gambrel-roof of a large building. Or was it a snow-covered rock? Is that a house up there? He asked, turning to the girl, who sat leaning forward and looking steadily down at him. That is the hotel. A road must lead to it, then. If I could get up there, I could send down for my things. There is no one there, piped the boy, and Thring remembered the breakman's words and how he had rebelled at the thought of a hotel incongruously set among this primeval beauty. But now he longed for the comfort of a warm room and tea at a hospitable table. He wished he had accepted the bishop's invitation. It was a predicament to be dropped in this wild spot, without a store, a cabin, or even a thread of blue smoke to be seen as indicating a human habitation. And no soul near saved these two children. The sun was sinking toward the western hill-tops, and a chillness began creeping about him as the shadows lengthened across the base of the mountain, leaving only the heights in the glowing light. Really, you know, I can't say what I am to do. I'm a stranger here. It seemed odd to him at the moment, but her face, framed in the huge sun bonnet, a delicate flower set in a rough calyx, suddenly lost all expression. She did not move nor open her lips. Thring thought he detected a look of fear in the boy's eyes as he crept closer to her. In a flash came to him the realization of the difficulty. His friend had told him of these people, their occupations, their fear of the world outside and below their fastnesses, and how zealously they guarded their homes and their rights from outside intrusion. He had how hospitable and generous they were to all who could not be considered their hereditary enemies. He hastened to speak reassuring words, and be thinking himself that she had called the boy Hoyle, he explained how one Adam Hoyle had sent him. The doctor's my friend, you know, he built a cabin somewhere within a day's walk. He told me of carers crossing on a mountaintop. Maybe you knew him. A slight smile crept about the girl's lips and her eyes brightened. Yes, sir, we all know Dr. Hoyle. I am to have the cabin, if I can find it. Live there as he did, and see what your hills will do for me. He laughed a little as he spoke, depreciating his evident weakness, and lifting his cap, wiped the cold moisture from his forehead. She noted his fatigue and hesitated. The boy's questioning eyes were fixed on her face, and she glanced down into them and answering look. Her lips parted, and her eyes glowed as she turned them again on David, but she spoke still in the same passive monotone. Oh, yes, my little brother was named for him, Adam Hoyle, but we only call him Hoyle. It's a right long spell since the doctor was here. His cabin is right now, ours, a little higher up. There is no place where you could stop Nia than ours. Hoyle, jump up and help fetch his things over. You can put them in the back of the wagon, sir, and ride up with us. I have a sweater room for them. The child was out and across the tracks in an instant, seizing of Elise much too heavy for him, and Thring cut his thanks short to go to his relief. I can toad it, said the boy shrilly. No, no, I am the biggest, so I will take the big ones. You bring the bundle with the strap about it, so. Now we shall get on, shan't we? But you are pretty strong for a little chap. And the child's face radiated smiles of the praise. Then David tossed in Elise and rug, without which last no Englishman ever goes on a journey, and with much effort they managed to pull the box along and hoisted also into the wagon, the body of which was filled with corn fodder, covered with an old patchwork quilt. The wagon was of the rudest, clumsiest construction, the heavy box set on axels without springs, but the young physician was thankful for any kind of conveyance. He had been used to life in the wild, taking things as he found them, bunking in a tent, a board shanty, or out under the open sky, with men brought heterogeneously together, some merely rough woodsmen from their natural environment, others the scum of the cities to whom crime was become first nature, decency second, and others fleeing from justice and civilized law, hiding off times a fine nature delicately reared. During this time he had seldom seen a woman other than an occasional camp follower of the most degraded sort. Inured thus, he did not find his ride, embedded with good corn fodder, much of a hardship, even in a springless wagon over mountain roads. Wrapped in his rug he braced himself against his box, with his face toward the rear of the wagon, and gazed out from under its arching canvas hood at the wild way, as it slowly unrolled behind them, and was pleased that he did not have to spend the night under the lee of the station. The lingering sunlight made flaming banners of the snow clouds now slowly drifting across the sky above the white world, and touched the highest peaks with rose and gold. The shadows, ever changing, deepened from faintest pink mauve through the heliotrope tints to the richest violet in the heart of the gorges. Over and through awe was the witching mystery of fairy-like snow wreathed branches and twigs, interwoven and arching up and up in faint perspective to the heights above, and down, far down to the depths of the regions below them. And all the time, mingled with the murmur of the voices behind him, and the creaking of the vehicle in which they rode, and the tramp of the animals when they came to a hard roadbed with rock foundation. Noises which were not loud, but which seemed to be covered and subdued by the soft snow, even as it covered everything, could be heard in a light dropping and pattering as the overladen last year's leaves and twigs dropped their white burden to the ground. Sometimes the great hood of the wagon struck an overhanging bow and sent snow down in showers as they passed. Heavily they climbed up and warily made their descent of rocky steeps, passing through boggy places or splashing in clear streams which issued from springs in the mountainside or fell from some distant height, then climbing again only to wind about and again to send. Often the way was rough with boulders that had never been blasted out, sometimes steeply shelving where the gorge was deepest and the precipice shearest. Past all dangers the girl drove with skillful hand, now encouraging her team with her low voice, now restraining them where their load crowded upon them over slippery shelving rocks with strong pulls and sharp command. David marveled at her serenity under the strain and at her courage and deafness. With the calmness of the boy nestling at her side, he resigned himself to the sweet witchery of the time and place. Glancing up at the high seat behind him, he saw the child's feet dangling and knew they must be cold. Why can't your little brother sit back here with me? he said. I'll cover him with my rug and we'll keep each other warm. He saw the small hunched-back stiffen and tried to appear big and manly, but she checked the team at a level-dip in the road. Yes, sonna, get over there with the gentleman. It'll be some cold and now the sun's gone. But the little man was shyly reluctant to move. Calm, hunna, sister'd be a heap rather you would. Then David reached up and gently lifted the atom of manhood, of pride, sensediveness and affection, over where he caused him to snuggle down into the fodder close to his side. For a while the child sat stiffly aloof, but gradually his little form relaxed and his head drooped sideways in the hollow of the stranger's shoulder, held comfortably by Thring's kindly encircling arm. Soon, with his small feet wrapped in the warm, soft rug, he slept soundly and sweetly, rocked, albeit rather roughly, by the jolting wagon. Thring also dreamed, but not in sleep. His mind was stirred to unusual depths by his strange surroundings, the silence, the mystery, the beauty of the night, and the suggestions of grandeur and power dimly revealed by the moonlight which bathed the world in a flood of glory. He was lifted up and drawn out of himself, and at the same time he was thrown back to review his life and to see his most inward self, and to marvel and question the wherefore of it all. Why was he here, away from the active, practical affairs which interest other men? Was he a creature of ideals only? Or was he also a practical man, taking the wisest means of reaching and achieving results most worthwhile? He saw himself in his childhood, in his youth, in his young manhood, even to the present moment, jogging slowly along in a far country, rough and wild, utterly dependent on the courtesy of a slight girl who held for the moment his life in her hands. For often, as he gazed into the void of darkness over narrow ledges, he knew that only the skill of these two small hands kept them from sliding into eternity. Yet there was about her such an air of wantedness to the situation that he was stirred by no sense of anxiety for himself or for her. He took out his pipe and smoked, still dreaming, comparing, and questioning. Of ancient family, yet the younger son of three generations of younger sons, all probability of great inheritance or title so far removed from him, it behooved him that he built for himself—what? Fortune? Name? Everything? Character? Ah, that was his heritage. All the heritage the laws of England allowed him, and that not by right of English law, but because fixed in the immutable eternal will some laws there are beyond the power of man to supersede. With an involuntary stiffening of his body, he disturbed for an instant the slumbering child, and quite as involuntarily he drew him closer and soothed him back to forgetfulness. And they both dreamed on, the child in his sleep and the man in his wide wakefulness and intense searching. His uncle, it is true, would have boosted him far toward creating both name and fame for himself, in either army or navy, but he would none of it. There was his older brother to be advanced, and the younger son of this same uncle to be placed in life, or married to wealth. This also he might have done, well married he might have been ere now, and could be still, for she was waiting, only. An ideal stood in his way. Whom he would marry he would love, not merely respect or like, not even both, but love he must, and in order to hold to this ideal he must fly the country, or remain to be unduly urged to his own discomforture and possibly to their mutual undoing. As for the alternatives, the army or the navy, again his ideals had formed for him impassable bars. He would found his career on the saving rather than the taking of life. Perhaps he might yet follow in the wake of armies to men bodies they have torn and cut and maimed, and heal diseases they have engendered. Yes, perhaps. The ideals loomed big. But what had he done? Fled his country and deftly avoided the most heart satisfying of human delights. Children to call him father, and a wife to make him a home. Peace and wealth thrust aside the helping hand of power and a career considered most worthy of a strong and resourceful man, and thrown personal ambition to the wind. Why? Because of his ideals, preferring to mend rather than to mar his neighbor. Surely he was right, and yet, and yet. What had he accomplished? Taken the making of his life into his own hands and lost, all if health were really gone. One thing remained to him, the last rag and remnant of his cherished ideals, to live long enough to triumph over his own disease and take up work again. Why should he succumb? Was it fate? Was there the guidance of a higher will? Might he reach out and partake of the divine power? But one thing he knew, but one thing could he do. As the glory of white light around him served to reveal a few feet only of the way, even as the density beyond seemed impenetrable, still it was but seeming. There was a beyond, vast, mysterious, which he must search out, slowly, painfully if need be, seeing a little way only, but seeing that little clearly revealed by the white light of spirit, his own or God's. Into the infinite he must search, search, and at last surely find. End of chapter one. Chapter two of The Mountain Girl. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Marianne. The Mountain Girl by Payne Erskine. Chapter two, in which David Thring experiences the hospitality of the mountain people. Suddenly the jolting ceased. The deep stillness of the night seemed only intensified by the low panting of the animals and the soft dropping of the wet snow from the trees. What is it? said Thring, peering from under the canvas cover. Anything the matter? The beast stood with low swung heads, the vapor rising white from their warm bodies, wet with the melting snow. His question fell unheard, and the girl who was climbing down over the front wheel began to unhitch the team in silence. He rolled the sleeping child in his rug and leaped out. Let me help you. What's the trouble? Oh, are you at home? I can do this, sir. I've done it a heap of times. Don't go not pizza. He's mighty quick and he's mean. The beast laid back his ears viciously as David approached. You ought not go near him yourself, he said, taking a firm grip of the bridle. Oh, he's safe enough with me or frail. Hold him tight, sir. Now you have him. To like it round there. Keep his head toward you, sir. He certainly is mean. The cold walked off to a low stack of corn fodder as she turned him loose with a light slap on the flank. And the mule, impatient, stamping and sidling about, stretched forth his nose and let out his raucous and hideous cry. While he was thus occupied, the girl slipped off his harness and, taking the bridle, led the beast away to a small railed enclosure on the far side of the stack. And David stood alone in the snow and looked about him. He saw a low, rambling house which, although one structure, appeared to be a series of houses, built of logs plastered with clay in the chinks. It stood in a tangle of wild growth on what seemed to be a wide ledge jutting out from the side of the mountain, which loomed dark and high behind it. An incessant rushing sound pervaded the place, as it were a part of the silence or a breathing of the mountain itself. Was it wind among the trees or the rushing of water? No wind stirred now, and yet the sound never ceased. It must be a torrent, swollen by the melting snow. He saw the girl moving in and out among the shadows, about the open log stable, like a wreath. The braing of the mule had disturbed the occupants of the house, for a candle was placed in the window, and its little ray streamed forth and was swallowed up in the moonlight and black shades. The child, awakened by the horrible noise of the beast, rustled in the corn fodder where Thring had left him. Dazed and wondering, he peered out at the young man for some moments, too shy to descend until his sister should return. Now she came, and he scrambled down and stood close to her side, looking up weirdly, his twisted little form shivering and quaking. Runny and holl, she said, looking kindly down upon him. Tell mother all right, son. A woman came to the door holding a candle, which she shaded with a gnarled and bony hand. That you, Cass, she quavered. Who are you talking to? Yes, Aunt Salet, we'll be there directly. Don't let mother get cold. She turned again to David. I reckon you'll have to stop with us to-night. It's a rat-smart way to the cabin, and it'll be cold and nothing to eat. We'll bring in your things now, and in the morning we can tote them up to your place with the mule, and Hoyle can go with you to show you the way. She turned toward the wagon, as if all were settled, and Thring could not be effusive in the face of her direct and conclusive manner. But he took the basket from her hand. Let me. No. No, I will bring in everything. Thank you very much. I can do it quite easily, taking one at a time. Then she left him, but at the door she met him and helped him to lift his heavy belongings into the house. The room he entered was warm and brightly lighted by a pile of blazing logs in the great chimney-place. He walked toward it and stretched his hands to the fire, a generous fire, the mountain-home's luxury. Something was cooking in the ashes of the hearth, which sent up a savory odor most pleasant and appealing to the hungry man. The meager boy stood near, also warming his little body, on which his coarse garments hung limply. He kept his great eyes fixed on David's face in a manner disconcerting, even in a child, had Thring given his attention to it, but at the moment he was interested in other things. Dropped thus suddenly into this utterly alien environment, he was observing the girl and the old woman as intently, though less openly, as the boy was watching him. Presently he felt himself uncannily the object of a scrutiny far distant from the child's wide-eyed gaze, and glancing over his shoulder toward the corner from which the sensation seemed to emanate, he saw in the depths of an old four-poster bed set in their hollow sockets and roofed over by projecting white eyebrows, a pair of keen, glittering eyes. Yes, you do see me now, do ye? said a high, thin voice in a toothless speech. Who be ye? His physician's feeling instantly alert, he stepped to the bedside and bent over the waisted form, which seemed hardly to raise the clothing from its level smoothness, as if she had lain motionless since some careful hand had arranged it. No, you don't know me, I reckon. Taint likely. Who be ye? she iterated, still looking unflinchingly in his eyes. Hits a gentleman who knows Dr. Hawa, mother. He sent him. Don't fret yourself, the girl said soothingly. I'm not one of the fretten kind, retorted the mother, never taking her eyes from his face and again speaking in a weak monotone. Who be ye? My name is David Thring, and I am a doctor, he said quietly. Where be ye from? I come from Canada, the country where Dr. Hoyle lives. I reckon so. He used to tell it his home was thar. A pallet hand was reached slowly out to him. I'm wrack-lad to see ye. Take a cheer and sit. Bring a cheer, Sally. But the girl had already placed him a chair, which he drew close to the bedside. He took the feeble old hand and slipped his fingers along to rest slightly on the wrist. You needn't stand watchin' me, Cass. You and Sally set Sutham for the doctor to eat. I reckon you're all about gone for hunger. Yes, mother, right soon. A fry little pork to go with that pwn, Aunt Sally. Is any coffee left in the pot? I done put in a little more when I heard the mule holler. I know ye'd want it. Might throw in a mat mule, and now the gentlemen's calm. The two women resumed their preparations for supper, and the boy continued to stand in gaze, and the high voice of the frail occupant of the bed began again to talk in question. When did you come down from that thou contrae what Dr. Hoyle lives at? She said in her monotonous wail. Four days ago I traveled slowly for I have been ill myself. It's right queer now. Pious like if I was a doctor, I would lown myself for to get sick. And you see Dr. Hoyle four days back. No, he has gone to England on a visit. I saw his wife, though, and his daughter. She's a young lady. Is to be married soon. They do grow up, the leader ones. Hit don't seem morn yesterday at Kass was like Leader Hall yonder, and Hit don't seem like that since Dr. Hall was here, and Leader Hall came. We named him for the doctor. Well, I reckon if the doctor was here now, that he could help me some. Maybe if he'd stayed here, I never would have got down where I'd be now. He was a right good doctor. Better than a job doctor, most, I reckon so. David smiled. I think so myself, he said. Are there many herb doctors here about? Not right doctors, so to speak, but they assume it knows a heap about jobs. Good. Perhaps they can teach me something. The old face was feebly lifted a bit from the pillow, and the dark eyes grew suddenly sharp in their scrutiny. Who be, in how? What eh, Yahifa? Such as you knows a heap already, thou makin' out to lan a weans. David saw his mistake and hastened to allay the suspicion which gleamed out at him almost malignantly. I am just what I said, a doctor like Adam Hoyle, only that I don't know as much as he, not yet. The wisest man in the world can learn more if he watches out to do so. Your herb doctors might be able to teach me a good many things. I suspect you're right there. Only a heap of folks thinks they know a tall fussed. There was a pause, and Thring leaned back in his stiff, splint-bottom chair and glanced around him. He saw that the girl, although moving about setting to rights and brushing here and there with a unique homemade broom, was at the same time intently listening. Presently the old woman spoke again, her thread-like voice penetrating far. What do you allow to do here, in all mountains? They hate no settlement nor abouts here, and then what sick hate no money to pay doctors with? I reckon they'll have to stay sick for all the youans. David looked into her eyes a moment quietly, then he smiled. The way to her heart he saw was through the magic of one name. What did Dr. Hoyle do when he was down here? Him? They hate no one live in lackey walls. Then David laughed outright, a gay, contagious laugh, and after an instant she laughed also. I agree with you, he said, but you see, I am a countryman of his, and he sent me here. He knows me well, and I mean to do as he did, if I can. He drew in a deep breath of utter weariness and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, and gazed into the blazing fire. The memories which had taken possession of his soul during the long ride seemed to envelop him, so that in a moment the present was swept away into oblivion, and his spirit was, as it were, suddenly withdrawn from the body, and projected into the past. He had been unable to touch any of the greasy cold stuff which had been offered him during the latter part of his journey, and the heat brought a drowsiness on him, and a faintness from lack of food. Cassandre looked to him, called the mother shrilly, but the girl had already noticed a strange abstraction, and the small Adam Hoyle had drawn back, in awe, to his mother. Get some whisky salad, said the girl, and David roused himself to see her bending over him. I must have gone off in a dose, he said weakly. The long ride, and then this warmth. Seeing the anxious faces around him, he laughed again. It's nothing, I assure you. Only the comfort of the smell of something good to eat, he sniffed a little. What is it? he asked. Bold Sally was tossing and shaking the frying-salt pork and the skillet at the fireplace, and the odor aggravated his already too-keen appetite. He was mawn-sleepy, I reckon, drilled the woman from the bed. Hate that pwn-done, Sally? No, take liquor he needs. Hit Sothe to eat. Then the girl hastened her slow, gliding movements, drew splint-chairs to a table of rough pine that stood against the side of the room, and, stooping between him and the fire, pulled something from among the hot ashes. The fire made the only light in the room, and David never forgot the supple grace of her as she bent thus silhouetted. The perfect line of chin and throat, black against the blaze, contrasted with the weird, witch-like old woman, with roughly knotted hair, who still squatted in the heat and shook the skillet of frying pork. Tha, now hits Don, I reckon, said Old Sally, slowly rising and straightening her bent back, and the woman from the bed called her orders. Not that cup, she cried as Sally began pouring black coffee into a cracked white cup. Get the cheney one. I hit it yonder in the corner, hide the tin can, to keep him from using it every day. I had a whole set of that when I married Falwell. Give hit here. She took the precious relic and her work-worn hands and peered into it, then wiped it out with the corner of the sheet which covered her. This thing did not see. He was watching the girl as she broke open the hot, fragrant cornbread and placed it beside his plate. Come, she said, you sure must be rot hungry. Sit here and eat. David felt like one drunken with weariness when he rose and caught at the edge of the table to steady himself. Aren't you hungry too, he asked, and hoil here. Sit beside me. We're going to have a feast, little chap. The girl placed an earthen crock on the table and took from him at honey in the broken comb, rich and dark. Have a little of this with your pong. It's rot good, she said. Frail, he found a bee-tree, piped the child suddenly, gaining confidence as he saw the stranger engaged in the very normal act of eating with the relish of an ordinary man. He edged forward and sat himself gingerly on the outer corner of the next chair and accepted a huge piece of the pong from David's hand. His sister gave him honey and Sally dropped pieces of the sizzling hot pork on their plates from the skillet. David sipped his coffee from the flowered chainie-cup, contentedly. Served without milk or sugar, it was strong, hot and reviving. The girl shyly offered more of the cornbread as she sought rapidly disappearing, pleased to see him eat so eagerly, yet abashed at having nothing else to offer. I'm sorry we can give you only such as this. We don't live like you do in the north. Have a little more of the honey. Ah, but this is fine. Good, hey, little chap. You are doing a very beneficent thing, do you know, saving a man's life? He glanced up at her flushed face and she smiled appreciatingly. He fancied her smiles were rare. But it's quite true. Where would I be now but for you and Hoyle here, lying under the lee side of the station coughing my life away, and all my own fault too? I should have accepted the bishop's invitation. You helped me when the cult was bad. Her soft voice, low and monotonous, fell musically on his ear when she spoke. Naturally. But how about that anyway? It's a wonder you weren't killed. How came a youngster like you there alone with these beasts? Thring had an abrupt manner of springing a question which startled the child and he edged away furtively watching his sister. Did you hitch that kicking brood alone and drive all that distance? Aunt Sally, she helped me to tie him up. She gave him con whilst I thought on the straps. And when he's once it tied up he goes all right. The atom grinned. Hits his way. He's mean, but he never walks both ends at onset. Good thing to know. But you're a hero, do you understand that? The child continued to edge away, and David reached out and drew him to his side. Holding him by his two sharp little elbows he gave him a playful shake. I say, do you know what a hero is? The little boy stopped grinning and looked wildly to his sister. But receiving only a smile of reassurance from her, he lifted his great eyes to Thring's face, then slowly the little form relaxed, and he was drawn within the doctor's encircling arm. I don't reckon, was all his reply, which ambiguous remark caused David, in his turn, to look to the sister for elucidation. She held a long, lighted candle in her hand and paused to look back as she was leaving the room. Yes, you do, Hannah-son. You remember the boy with the quail-long name Sister told you about? Who stood there when the ship was all afire and wouldn't leave because his father told him to buy it? He was a hero. But Hoyle was too shy to respond, and David could feel his little heart thumping against his arm as he held him. Tell the gentleman, Hoyle. He don't buy it, I reckon, called the mother from her corner. His name begun like yon' cas, but I can't remember the haul of it. Casablanca was it, said Thring smiling. I reckon. Did you and know him? When I was a small chap like you, I used to read about him. Then the atom yielded entirely and leaned comfortably against David, and his sister left them, carrying the candle with her. Old Sally threw another log on the fire, and the flames leaped up the cavernous chimney, lighting the room with dramatic splendor. Thring took note of its unique furnishing, in the corner opposite the one where the mother lay was another immense foreposter bed, and before it hung a coarse homespun curtain half concealing it. At its foot was a huge box of dark wood, well made and strong, with a padlock. This, and the beds, seemed to belong to another time and place, in contrast to the other articles which were evidently mountain-made, rude in construction and hewn out by hand, the chairs unstained and unpolished, and seated with splints. The walls were roughly dressed logs, of which the house was built, the chinks plastered with deep red-brown clay. Depending from nails driven in the logs were festoons of dried apple and strips of dried pumpkin, and hanging by their braided husks were bunches of Indian corn, not yellow like that of the north, but white or purple. There were bags also containing Thring knew not what, although he was to learn later, when his own larder came to be eked out by sundry gifts of dried fruit and sweet corn, together with the staple of beans and peas from the widow's store. Beside the window of small panes was a shelf on which were few worn books, and beneath hung an almanac at the foot of the mother's bed stood a small spinning wheel, with the wool still hanging to the spindle. David wondered how long since it had been used. The scrupulous cleanliness of the place satisfied his fastidious nature, and gave him a sense of comfort in the homey interior. He liked the look of the bed in the corner, made up high and round, and covered with marvelous patchwork. As he sat thus, noting all his surroundings, foil still nestled at his side, leaning his elbows on the doctor's knees, his chin in his hands and his soft eyes fixed steadily on the doctor's face. Thus they advanced rapidly toward an amicable acquaintance, each questioning and being questioned. What is a bee tree? said David. You said somebody found one. Hits a big holler log, and hits plum full of bees and honey. Frail, he found thison. Tell me about it. Where was it? Hitwa abyanda, high up the mountain. There's a hole there where the wild cats live in. Wild cat hole. Frail, he were hunting for a cat. Some men there, at the hotel, they were plum mad to hunt wild cat with the dogs, and frail, he allowed to get the cat for them. And when was that? Last summer, when the hotel were open, there were a heap of men at the hotel. And now, about the bee tree? Frail, he never let on like he know there were a bee tree, and then this fall he took me with him, and we made a big fire, and then we cut down the tree, and we stayed there the whole day, too, and ate there, and had rosenias by the fire, too. I say, you know, there seem to be a lot of things you will have to enlighten me about. After you get through with the bee tree, you must tell me what rosenias are. And then what did you do? There were heap of honey. That tree, Hitwa na about plum full of honey, and the bees were that mad you couldn't let them come na ya thought they would sting ya. They stung me, and I never hollered. Frail, he loud if you hollered, you weren't good for nothing, go and bee huntin'. Is Frail your brother? Yes. He can do a whole heap of things, Frail can. There were heap of honey in that, that tree. Bound a barrel full, or more than that. We have a whole tub of honey out there in the loom shed yet. And Maldon sent all the rest to the neighbors, because Mald said they want no use in humans being full hogs like the bees were, or keepin' more than they could eat just for themselves. Yes, called the mother from her corner where she had been admiringly listening. There is a heap like that, a way, but Hit ain't our way here in the mountains. Let the doctor tell you something now, Hoa. He mount lot a heap if you hock to him right smart, thou talkin' the whole time yourself. I hast to tell him about the rosin' ears. He said so. There are they be, he pointed to a bunch of Indian corn. You rob them up in their shucks, whilst they're green and soft, and keep them up in the ashes where Hit's right hock, and then when they're roasted, eat him so. Now, what do you know? Why, he knows a heap, son. Don't ax that away. In my country, a way across the ocean, began David. Tell about the ocean, how Hit look? In my country we don't have Indian corn, nor bee trees, nor wild cat-holes, but we have the ocean all around us and we see the ships and, like that thou want, where the bulls do it, was Hit war on fa. Something like, yes. Then he told about the sea, and the ships, and the great fishes, and was interrupted with the query. Wrecking you don't see that, that fish, what swallowed up the man in the Bible, and then throwed him up again? Why, no, son. You know that thou fish were dead long for we as was born. You mustn't ax fool questions, honey. Old Sally sat crouched by the hearth, intently listening, and asking, as naïve questions as the child, whose pallid face grew pink and animated, and his eyes grew larger as he strove to see, with inward vision the things thring described. It was a happy evening for Little Hoyle. Leaning confidently against David, he sighed with repletion of joy. He was not eager for his sister to return, not he. He could lean for ever against this wonderful man and listen to his tales. But the doctor's weariness was growing heavier, and he b'thought himself that the girl had not eaten with them, and feared she was taking trouble to prepare quarters for him, when if she only knew how gladly he would bunk down anywhere, only to sleep while this blessed and delicious drowsiness was overpowering him. Where is your sister, Hoyle? Don't you reckon it's time you and I were a bed, he said, adopting the child's vernacular. She's making your bed ready in the loom shed, likely, said the mother, ever alert. With her pale, prematurely wrinkled face, and uncannily bright and watchful eyes, she seemed the controlling, all-pervading spirit of the place. Run, child, and see what's keeping her so long. Hit stock out there, said the boy, stirring himself slowly. Run, honey. You hate to fear it. Can drive a team all by yourself. Doc hate nothing. I've been all over these here mountains when there won't one star lot. Maybe you can help her. At that moment she entered, holding the candle high to light her way through what seemed to be a dark passage, her still sweet face a bit flushed, and strayed thrushes of white cotton clinging down her blue homespun dress. The doctor's most dead for sleep, Cass. I'm rancid to keep you so long. But we are bleached. She had lifted her troubled eyes as Thring interrupted her. Ah, no, no. I really beg your pardon for coming in on you this way. It was not right, you know. It was a-a predicament, wasn't it? It certainly wasn't right to put you about so. If you will just let me go anywhere, only to sleep, I shall be greatly obliged. I'm making you a lot of trouble, and I'm so sorry. His profusion of manner, of which he was entirely unaware, embarrassed her. Although not shy like her brother, she had never encountered anyone who spoke with such rapid abruptness, and his swift, penetrating glance and pleasant ease of the world abashed her. For an instant she stood perfectly still before him, slowly comprehending his thought, then hastened with her inherited, ladyhood, to relieve him from any sense that his sudden descent upon their privacy was an intrusion. Her mind moved along direct lines from thought to expression, from impulse to action. She knew no conventional tricks of words or phrases for covering an awkward situation, and her only way of avoiding a self-betrayal was by silence and a mask-like impassivity. During this moment of stillness, while she waited to regain her poise, he, quick and intuitive as a woman, took in the situation, yet he failed to comprehend the character before him. To the one accustomed to the conventional, perfect simplicity seems to conceal something held back. It is hard to believe that all is being revealed, hence her slower thought, in reality, comprehended him the more truly. What he supposed to be pride and shame over their meager accommodations was, in reality, genuine concern for his comfort and embarrassment before his ease and ready phrases. As in a swift breeze her thoughts were caught up and borne away upon them, but after a moment they would sweep back to her, a flock of innocent, startled doves. Still holding her candle aloft, she raised her eyes to his and smiled. "'Weens, a right glad you came. If you can be comfortable where we obliged to put you to sleep, you must buy a while.' She did not say a bleached at this time. He had not pronounced it so, and he must know. "'That is so good of you. And now you are very tired yourself and have eaten nothing. You must have your own supper. Oil can look after me.' He took the candle from her and gave it to the boy, then turned his own chair back to the table and looked inquiringly at Sally, squatted before the fire. "'Not another thing shall you do for me until you are waited on. Take my place here.' David's manner seemed like a command to her, and she slid into the chair with a weary, drooping movement. Oil stood holding the candle, his rye neck twisting his head to one side, a smile on his face, eyeing them sharply. He turned a questioning look to his sister, as he stiffened himself to his newly acquired importance as host. Thream walked over to the bedside. "'In the morning, when we are all rested, I'll see what can be done for you,' he said, taking the proffered old hand in his. I am not Dr. Oil, but he has taught me a little. I studied and practiced with him, you know.' "'Heavy? Then you must know a heap. It's right like the Lord sent you. You see, something peered like to give way, whilst I was cut and lured the other day, and I went all in her heap, crossed a log, and I reckon I hurt me some. I hate being able to move a foot since, and I lay out there nigh on a whole day whilst Hol here run clawed down to Sally's place to get her. He couldn't lift me herself, he's that weak. He tried to hold me in, but when I hollered, suffering so I was just bleached to holler, he kivbered me up where I lay, and let out for Sally, and she and her man they got me up here, and I've been here ever since. I reckon I never will leave this bed while I'm carried out in a box.' "'Oh, no, not that. You're too much alive for that. We'll see about it to-morrow. Good night.' "'Oh, and I'll show you the way,' said the girl, rising. Your bed is in the loom shed. I'm right sorry it's so cold. I put blankets there, and you can use all you lack of them. I would have given your frail's place up Gareth only. He might come in any time, and—' Nah, he won't. He's too scared it.' Hoyle's interruption stopped abruptly, checked by a glance of his sister's eye. "'I hope you'll sleep well.' "'Sleep. I shall sleep like a log. I feel as if I could sleep for a week. It's awfully good of you. I hope we haven't eaten all the supper, Hoyle and I. Come, little chap. Good night.' He took up his valise and followed the boy, leaving her standing by the unclear table, gazing after him. "'Now you eat, Cassandre. You are nigh about perished. You are that tired,' said her mother. Then Old Sally brought more pork and hot-pone from the ashes, and they sat down together, eating and sipping their black coffee in silence. Presently Hoyle returned and began removing his clumsy shoes by the fire. "'Did he axe ye a heap of questions, Hoyle?' queried the old woman sharply. "'Nah, didn't axe nothing. Well, look at it. You don't let not known if he does. Talking may hut, and hit may not. He ain't no government, ma'am. Hits all right, I reckon, but them at Lawn's young to hold their tongue saves a heap of trouble for the selves.' After they had eaten, Old Sally gathered the few dishes together and placed all the splint-bottom chairs back against the sides of the room, and only half disrobing, crawled into the far side of the bed opposite to the mother's, behind the homespun curtain. "'Tomorrow I reckon I can go home to my old man. Now you've come, Cass.' "'Yes,' said the girl in a low voice. "'You have been right kind to we all, Aunt Sally.' Then she bent over her mother, ministering to her few wants, lifting her forward she shook up the pillow and gently laid her back upon it, and lightly kissed her cheek. The child had quickly dropped to sleep, curled up like a ball on the farther side of his mother's bed, undisturbed by the low murmur of conversation. Cassandra drew her chair close to the fire and sat long gazing into the burning logs that were fast crumbling into a heap of glowing embers. She uncoiled her heavy bronze hair and combed it out slowly until it fell a rippling mass to the floor as she sat. It shone in the fire-light as if it had drawn its tint from the fire itself, and the cold night had so filled it with electricity that it flew out and followed the comb, as if each hair were alive, and made a moving oreola of warm red amber about her drooping figure in the midst of the somber shadows of the room. Her face grew sad and her hands moved listlessly, and at last she slipped from her chair to her knees and wept softly and prayed, her lips forming the words soundlessly. Once her mother awoke, lifted her head slightly from her pillow, engaged and instanted at her, then slowly subsided and again slept. The loom shed was one of the log cabins connected with the main building by a roofed passage, which Thring had noticed the evening before as being an odd fashion of house architecture, giving the appearance of a small flock of cabins all nestling under the wings of the old building in the center. The shed was dark, having but one small window with glass panes near the loom, the other in larger opening being tightly closed by a wooden shutter. David slept late and awoke at last to find himself thousands of miles away from his dreams in this unique room, all in the deepest shadow, except for the one warm bar of sunlight which fell across his face. He drowsed off again and his mind began piecing together fragments and scenes from the previous day and evening, and immediately he was surrounded by mystery, moonlit, fairy-like, and white, a little crooked being at his side looking up at him like some gnome creature of the hills, revealed as a part of the enchantment, then slowly resolving and melting away after the manner of dreams, the wide spaces of the mystery drew closer and warmer and a great center of blazing logs through grotesque dancing lights among them and an old face peered out with bright, keen eyes, now seen, now lost in the fitful shadows, now pale and appealing or cautiously withdrawn, but always watching, watching while the little crooked being came and watched also. Then between him and the blazing light came a dark figure silhouetted blackly against it, moving, stooping, rising, going and coming, a sweet girl's head with heavily coiled hair through which the firelight played with slashes of its own color, and a delicate profile cut in pure clean lines melting into throat and gently rounded breast, like a spirit now here, now gone, again near and bending over him, a ministering spirit bringing him food until gradually this half-wake dreaming reminiscence concentrated upon her, and again he saw her standing, holding the candle high and looking up at him, a wondering, questioning spirit, then drooping weirdly into the chair by the unclear table and again waiting with almost a smile on her parted lips as he said, Good night. Good night? Ah, yes, it was morning. Again he heard the continuous rushing noise to which he had listened in the white mystery that had soothed him to slumber the night before, rising and falling, never ceasing. He roused himself with sudden energy and bounded from his couch. He would go out and investigate. His sleep had been sound and he felt a rejuvenation he had not experienced in many months. When he threw open the shutter of the large unglazed window space and looked out on his strange surroundings, he found himself in a new world, sparkling, fresh, clear, shining with sunlight and glistening with wetness as though the whole earth had been newly washed and varnished. The sunshine streamed in and warmed him and the air filled with wine-like fragrance stirred his blood and set his pulses leaping. He had been too exhausted the previous evening to do more than fall into the bed which had been provided him and sleep his long uninterrupted sleep. Now he saw why they had called this part of the house the loom shed, for between the two windows stood a cloth loom left just as it had been used, the warp like a tightly stretched veil of white threads and the web of cloth begun. In one corner were a few bundles of cotton, one of which had been torn open and the contents placed in a thick layer over the long bench on which he had slept and covered with a blue and white homespun counterpane. The head had been built high with it and sheets spread overall. He noticed the blankets which had covered him and saw that they were evidently of home manufacture and that the white spread which covered them was also of course clean homespun ornamented in squares with rude primitive needle work. He marveled at the industry he represented. As for his toilet the preparation had been most simple, a shelf placed on pegs driven between the logs supported a piece of looking glass. A splint chair set against the wall served as wash stand and towel rack. The homespun cotton towels neatly folded and hung over the back. A wooden pail at one side was filled with clear water over which hung a dipper of gourd. A white porcelain basin was placed on the chair over which a clean towel had been spread and to complete all a square cut from the end of a bar of yellow soap lay beside the basin. David smiled as he bent himself to the refreshing task of bathing in water so cold as to be really icy. Indeed I said formed over the still pools without during the night, although now fast disappearing under the glowing morning sun. Above his head laid upon cross beams were bundles of wool uncarded and carding boards hung from nails in the logs. In one corner was a rudely constructed reel and from the loom dangled the idle shuttle filled with fine blue yarn of wool. Thring thought of the worn old hands which had so often thrown it and thinking of them he hastened to his toilet that he might go in and do what he could to help the patient. It was small enough return for the kindness shown him. He feared to offer money for his lodgement at least until he could find a way. At last full of new vigor and very hungry he issued from his sleeping room. Sadly a need of a shave but biting his time satisfied if only breakfast might be forthcoming. He had no need to knock for the house door stood open flooding the place with sunlight and frosty air. The huge pile of logs was blazing on the hearth as if it had never ceased since the night before and the flames leaped hot and red of the great chimney. Old Sally no longer presided at the cookery. With a large cup of black coffee before her she now sat at the table eating corn bread and bacon. A drooping black sun bonnet on her head covered her unkempt grizzly hair and a cob pipe and bag of tobacco lay at her hand. She was ready for departure. Cassandra had returned and her gratuitous neighborly offices were at an end. The girl was stooping before the fire arranging a cake of corn bread to cook in the ashes. A crane swung over the flames on which a fat iron kettle was hung and the large coffee pot stood on the hearth. The odor of breakfast was savory and appetizing as David's tall form cast a shadow across the sunlight space on the floor. The old mother's voice called to him from the corner. Come ride in doctor. Take a cheer and sit. Your breakfast is ready I reckon. How have you slept so? The girl at the fire rose and greeted him but he missed the boy. Where's the little chap? He asked. Cassandra sun him out to wash up. First thing she do when she gets home is to begin on oil and wash him up. He do get dirty poor little sun said the girl. It's like I have to torment him some. Will you have breakfast now sir? Just take your chair to the table and I'll fetch it directly. Won't I though? What air you have up here? It makes me hungry merely to breathe. Is it this way all the time? It's this way good deal said Sally from under her sun bonnet. Oh there's the days hit some colder. Like to make water freeze right hard but most days it's a heap warmer than this. That's so said the invalid. I've seen it so warm a heap of winters that the trees gets fooled into thinking it's spring and blossoms all out and then come along a late freezing spell and gets their fruit all killed. It's queer how they does do that away. We all hate it when the days come warm in February. Then you must have been glad to have snow yesterday. I was disappointed. I was running away from that sort of thing you know. Thring's breakfast was served to him as had been his supper of the evening before directly from the fire. As he ate he looked out upon the usual litter of corn fodder scattered about near the house and a few implements of the simplest character for cultivating the small pocket of rich soil below but beyond this and surrounding it was a scene of the wildest beauty. Giant forest trees intertwined and almost overgrown by a tangle of wild grapevines hid the fall from sight and behind them the mountain rose abruptly. A continuous stream of clearest water icy cold fell from high above into a long trough made of a hollow log. There at the running water stood little Hoyle, his coarse cotton towel hung on an azalea shrub giving himself a thorough scrubbing. In a moment he came in panting shivering and shining and still wet about the hair and ears. Why, you're not half dry son, said his sister. She took the towel from him and gave his head a vigorous rubbing. Go and get warm honey and sister'll give you breakfast by the fire. She turned to David. likely you take milk in your coffee I never thought to ask you. She left the room and returned with a cup of new milk warm and sweet. He was glad to get it finding his black coffee sweetened only with molasses unpalatable. Don't you take milk in your coffee? How came you to think of it for me? I knew a lady at the hotel last summer. She said that up north most everybody does take milk or cream one in their coffee. I never seed search. It's clear waste to my thinking. Cassandra smiled. That's because you never could abide milk. Mother thinks it's only fit to make butter and raised pigs on. Old Sally's horse a thin wiry beast gray and speckled stood saddled near the door his bridal hanging from his neck the bit dangling while he also made his repast. When he had finished his corn and she had finished her elaborate farewells at the bedside and little Hoyl had with much effort succeeded in bridling her steed. She stepped quickly out and gained her seat on the high narrow saddle with the ease of a young girl. Meager as a willow with in her scant black cotton gown perched on her bony gray beast and only the bowl of her cob pipe projecting beyond the rim of her sun bonnet is indication that a face might be hidden in its depths with a meal sack containing an either end sundry gifts salt pork chicken cornbread and meal slung over the horses back behind her and with contentment in her heart Aunt Sally rode slowly over the hills to rejoin her old man. Soon she left the main road and struck out into a steep narrow trail merely a mule track arched with hornbeam and dogwood and mulberry trees and towered over by giant chestnuts and oaks and great white pines and deep green hemlocks through myriad leafless branches the wind stuffed pleasantly overhead unfelt by her so completely was she protected by the thickly growing laurel and rhododendron on either side of her path the snow of the day before was gone leaving only the glistening wetness of it on stones and fallen leaves and twigs under foot while in open spaces the sun beat warmly down upon her the trail led by many steep scrambles and sharp descents more directly to her home than the road which wound in turn so frequently as to more than double the distance at intervals it cut across the road or followed it a little way only to diverge again here and there other trails crossed it or branched from it leading higher up the mountain or off into some gorge following the course of a stream so that except to one accustomed to its intricacies the path might easily be lost old Sally paid no heed to her course apparently leaving the choice of trails to her horse she sat easily on the beast and smoked her pipe until it was quite out when she stowed it away in the black cloth bag which dangled from her elbow by its strings spying a small sassafrashe shrub leaning toward her from the bank above her head she gave it a vigorous pull as she passed and drew it root and all from its hold in the soil beat it against the mossy bank and swished it upon her skirt to remove the earth clinging to it then breaking off a bit of the root she chewed it while she thrust the rest in her bag and used the top first switch with which to hasten the pace of her nag the small stones loosened when she tore the shrub from the bank rattled down where the soil had been washed away leaving the steep shelving rock side of the mountain bear and she heard them leap the smooth space and fall softly on the moss among the ferns and lodged leaves below there crashed in the sun lay a man with a black felt hat covering his face the stones falling about him caused him to raise himself stealthily and pure upward discrying only the lone woman and the gray horse he gave a low peculiar cry almost like that of an animal in distress she drew rain sharply and listened the cry was repeated a little louder come on up hey your frail it's only me how come you there he climbed rapidly up through the dense undergrowth and stood at her side breathing quickly for a moment they waited thus regarding each other neither speaking the boy he seemed a little more than a youth looked up at her with a singularly innocent and appealing expression but gradually as he saw her impassive and unrelenting face his own resumed a hard and sullen look which made him appear years older his forehead was damp and cold and a lock of silk and black hair slightly curling over it increased its whiteness dark heavy rings were under his eyes which gleamed blue as the sky between long dark lashes his arms dropped listlessly at his side and he stood before her as before a dread judge bareheaded and silent he bore her look only for a minute then dropped his eyes and his hand clenched more tightly the rim of his old felt hat when he ceased looking at her her eyes softened ah lo you must have something to say for yourself she said I reckon the corners of his mouth drooped and he did not look up he made us have to speak further but only swallowed and was silent you reckon wow won't you say there ain't nothing to say he were mean and and he's dead I reckon he's dead yes he's dead and they done had the burying her voice was monotonous and plaintive a pillar swept over his face and he drew the back of his hand across his mouth he knowed he had not to roll me like he done I've been trying to make his house go home but I can't it just hangs around there I done brung him down and left him in your shed and I load perhaps Uncle Jerry to take him over to his paw again he swallowed and turned his face away the critter'd starve up yonder anyhow I ain't house stealing it will mona host twix me and him from the low quiet tones of the two no one would have dreamed that a tragedy lay beneath their words look at him frail that weren't nothing twixed him and you you were both on your full on mean cold whiskey and you were coiling back cast a faint red stolen to the boy's cheeks and the blue gleam of his eyes between the dark lashes narrowed to a mere line as he looked an instant in her face and then off up the trail I ain't you seed nobody he asked you knows I ain't seed nobody to hurt you and that I'd tell you look at here son you're hungry and come home with me and I'll get you something to eat if you don't you'll go back and fill up on whiskey again and there'll be the end of you he walked on a few steps at her side then stopped suddenly I'll load better by where I be you and Saint Benyonna to the fall have you I have you done a heap mon you reckoned on when Martha here to the killing she just dropped where she stood she were out doing work at you I'd have been doing for her and she ain't moved since she liked to a parish lying out there poor little whole he run all the way to our place he were that scared and Lord she were dead and me and the old man went over and there we found a line in the yard and the cow were lowing to be milk and the pig squealing like hit war struck for hunger it do make me klar plum mad when I think how you've acted just like you Paul if he'd never started that there still you'd never been what should be now the drinking your own whiskey at that come on home with me I reckon I'm better here then I'll be there hunting me I know you're hungry I got something you can eat but I load if you'd come I'd get you in the old man a good chicken fry she took from her store slung over the nag a piece of cornbread and a large chunk of salt pork and gave them into his hand there eight it's heartening he was suffering as she thought and reached eagerly for the food but before tasting it he looked up again into her face and the infantile appeal had returned to his eyes tell me more about small he said you eat and I'll talk she replied he broke a large piece from the corn cake and crowded the rest into his pocket then he drew forth a huge clasp knife and cut a thick slice from the raw salt pork and pulling a red cotton handkerchief from his belt he wrapped it around the remainder and held it under his arm as he ate she ain't able to move that hollering she's that bad herded Paul and I we got her to bed and I've been there ever since with all to do until cast come likely she'd unbroken her hip is cast there now who comes she there again the blood sought his cheeks Paul rode down to the settlement and telegraphed it for poor thing you don't reckon what all you've done I wish you to took after your mom she were my own sister and she were that good she must have went straight to glory when she died your Paul he liked to have died too that time and when he married Marthi Merlin I reckon he were cured of his ways but it didn't last long Marthi she done well by him and she done well by you too they ain't nothing to get Marthi she being a good step ma to you she have and now see how you've done her and cast given up for school and coming home there to 10 beasts and do your work like she were a man her family one brought up that way nor mine wouldn't either big fool Marthi were to marry your Paul it's that away with all the far wells they've been that quarreling and bad making mean whiskey and drinking it raw killing hair and there and now you go doing the same and my own nephew too her face remained impassive and her voice droned on monotonously but two tears stole down her wrinkled cheeks his face settled into its harder lines as she talked but he made no reply and she continued quarrelously why don't you pay heat to me long ago when I told you not to open that there still again you are heaped too young to go that away my own kin like to be hung for man killing when did cast come he interrupted sullenly last evening I'll drop around there this evening or late night I reckon I have to get feed for my own host and towed it up or take him back one all I fetched up last week he done it he turned to walk away but stood with averted head as she began speaking again don't you do no such full thing you keep clear there bring the host to me and I'll ride him home what you want to be so in the mountain anyhow it's only like to give you away what you're at all you want is to get to see cast but it won't do you no good at least ways not now you done so bad she won't look at you no more I reckon there's a man there too now he started back his hands clenched his head lifted and his whole air an animal like ferocity there now look at you take you he's after take me I'm feared he's after how come he there he come with her last evening a sound of horses hoofs on the road far below arrested her they both waited listening intently there they be get she whispered cast told me if I met up with you to say it she'd leave southern for you to eat on the big rock hide in the holly tree at the head of the fall she leaned down to him and held him by the coat an instant son leave whiskey alone it's the only way you can do to get her yes Aunt Sally he murmured his eyes thanked her with one look for the tone or the hope her words held out again the laugh nearer this time and again the wild look of haunting fear in his face he dropped where he stood and slipped stealthily as a cat back to the place where he had lain and crawling on his belly toward a heap of dead leaves caught by the brush an old fallen pine he crept beneath them and lay still his aunt did not stir patting her horse's neck she sat and waited until the voices drew near came close beneath her as the road wound and passed on then she once more moved along toward her cabin end of chapter three chapter four of the mountain girl David spends his first day at his cabin and frail makes his confession this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Hailey Pereira The Mountain Girl by Payne Erskine chapter four Dr. Hoyle had built his cabin on one of the pinnacles of the earth and David looking down on blue billowing mountain tops with only the spaces of the air between him and heaven between him and the ocean between him and his fair English home thought that he knew why the old doctor had chosen it seated on a splint bottom chair in the doorway pondering he thought first of his mother with a little secret sorrow that he could not have taken to his heart the bride she had selected for him and settled in his own home to the comfortable ease the wife's wealth would have secured for him it was not that the money had been made in commerce he was neither a snob nor a cad although his own connections entitled him to honor what more could he expect than to marry wealth and be happy if if happiness could come to either of them in that way no his heart did not lean toward her it was better that he should bend to his profession in a strange land but not this to live a hermit's life in a cabin on a wild hilltop how long must it be how long brooding thus he gazed at the distance of ever pailing blue and mechanically counted the ranges and peaks below him an inaccessible tangle of laurel and rhododendron closed the rough and precipitous wall of the mountain side which fell sheer down until lost in purple shadow with a mantle of green deep and rich varied by the gray of the lichen covered rocks the browns and reds of the bare branches of deciduous trees and the paler tints of feathery pines here and there from damp springy places dark hemlocks rose out of the mass tall and majestic wavering their plume tops giant sentinels of the wilderness gradually his mood of brooding retrospect changed and he knew himself to be glad to his heart's core he could understand why out of the turmoil of the middle ages men chose to go to sequestered places and become hermits no tragedies could be in this primeval spot and here he would rest and build again for the future he was pleased to sit thus musing for the climb had taken more strength than he could well spare his cabin was not yet habitable for the simple things dr. Hoyle had accumulated to serve his needs were still locked in well-built cupboards as he had left them Thring meant soon to go to work to take out the bed covers and air them and to find the canvas and nail it over the framework beside the cabin which was to serve as a sleeping apartment all should be done in time that was a good framework strongly built with the corner posts set deep in the ground to keep it firm on this windswept height and with a door in the side of the cabin opening into the canvas room ah yes all that the old doctor did was well and thoroughly done his appetite sharpened by the climb and the bracing air david investigated the contents of one of those melon-shaped baskets which kassandra had given him when he started for his new home that morning with little hoyle as his guide ah what hospitable kindness they had shown to him a stranger here were delicate bits of fried chicken sweet and white cornbread a glass of honey and a bottle of milk nothing better need a man ask and what animals men are after all he thought taking delight in the mere acts of eating and breathing and sleeping utterly weary he would not trouble to open the cot which lay in the cabin but rolled himself in his blankets on the wide flat rock at the verge of the mountain here warmed by the sun he lay with his face toward the blue distance and slept dreamlessly and soundly very soundly for he was not awakened by a crackling of the brush and scrambling a feat struggling up the mountain wall below his hard resting place yet the sound kept on and soon ahead appeared above the rock and two hands were placed upon it then a strong cat-like spring landed the lithe young owner of the head only a few feet away from the sleeper it was frail his soft felt hat on the back of his head and the curl of dark hair falling upon his forehead for an instant as he gazed on the sleeping figure the wild look of fear was in his eyes then as he besought himself of the words of aunt sally that is a man there the expression changed to one more malevolent and repulsive transforming and aging the boyish face cautiously he crept nearer and peered into the face of the unconscious englishman his hands clenched and his lips tightened and he made a movement with his foot as if he would spurn him over the cliff as suddenly the movement passed he drew back in shame and looked down at his hands blood guilty hands as he knew them to be and with lowered head he moved swiftly away he was a youth again hungry and sad stumbling along the untrotted way avoiding the beaten path yet unerringly taking his course toward the cleft rock at the head of the fall behind the great holly tree it was not the food kassandra had promised him that he wanted now but to look into the eyes of one who would pity and love him heart sick and weary as he never had been in all his young life lonely beyond bearing he hurried along as he forced a path through the undergrowth he heard the sound of a mountain stream and seeking it he followed along its rocky bed leaping from one huge block of stone to another and swinging himself across by great overhanging sycamore boughs drawing by its many windings near and nearer to the spot where it precipitated itself over the mountain wall ever the noise of the water grew louder until at last making a slight detour he came upon the very edge of the descent where he could look down and see his home nestled in the cove at the foot of the fall the blue smoke curling upward from its great chimney he seated himself upon a jutting rock well screened by laurel shrubs on all sides but the one toward the fall there his knees clasped about with his arms and his chin resting upon them he sat and watched behind the leafage and tangle of bare stems and twigs he was so far above and so directly over the spot on which his gaze was fixed as to be out of the usual range of sight from below thus enabling him to see plainly what was transpiring about the house and sheds without himself being seen long and patiently he waited once a dog barked his own dog nigg someone must be approaching what if the little creature should seek him out and betray him he quivered with the thought the day before he had driven him down the mountain beating him off whenever he returned should the animal persist in tracking him he would kill him he peered more eagerly down and saw little hoyle run out of the cow shed and twist himself this way and that to see up and down the road both the child and the dog seemed excited yes there they were three horsemen coming along the highway now they were dismounting and questioning the boy now they disappeared in the house he did not move why were they so long within hours it seemed to frail but in reality it was only a short search they were making there they were longer looking about the sheds and yard hoyle accompanied them everywhere his hands in his pockets standing about shivering with excitement all around they went peering and searching thrusting their arms as far as they could reach into the stacks of fodder looking into troughs and corn sacks setting the fowls to cackling wildly even hauling out the long corn stalks from the wagon which had served to make things ride the night before comfortable no spot was overlooked frequently they stood and parlayed then frail's heart would sink within him what if they should set an ink to track him ah he would strangle the beast and pitch him over the fall he would spring over after him before he would let himself be taken and hanged oh he could feel the strangling rope around his neck already he could not bear it he could not thus cowering he waited starting at every sound from below as if to run then sinking back in fear breathless with the pounding of his heart in his breast now the voices came up to him painfully clear they were talking to little hoyle angrily what they were saying he could not make out but he again cautiously lifted his head and looked below suddenly the child drew back and lifted his arm as if to ward off a blow but the blow came frail saw one of the men turn as he mounted his horse to ride away and cut the boy cruelly across his face and arm with his rawhide whip the little one's streak of fright and pain pierced his big brother to the heart and caused him to forget for the moment his own abject fear he made as if he would leap the intervening space to punish the brute but a cry of anger died in his throat as he realized his situation the selfishness of his fear however was dispelled and he no longer cringed as before but had the courage again to watch awake and alert to all that passed beneath him Hoyle's cry brought Cassandra out of the house flying she walked up to the man like an angry tigress frail rose to his knees and strained eagerly forward if you are such a coward you must hit something small and weak you can strike a woman hit me she panted putting the child behind her muttering the man rode sullenly away he no business hanging around weans listening to all we say frail could not make out the words but his face burned red with rage had he been in hiding down below he would have wreaked vengeance on the man as it was he stood up and boldly watched them right away in the opposite direction from which they had come he sank back and waited and again the hours passed all was still but the rushing water and the gentle stuffing of the wind in the tops of the towering pines at last he heard a wrestling and sniffing here and there his heart stood still then pounded again in terror they had they had set nigg to track him of course the dog would seek for his old friend and comrade and they they would wait until they heard his bark of joy and then they would seize him he crept close to the rock where the water rushed not a foot away and clinging to the tough laurel behind him leaned far over to drop down there would mean instant death on the rocks below it would be terrible almost as horrible as the strangling rope he would wait until they were on him and then near and near came the erratic trotting and scratching of the dog among leaves and then if only he could grapple with the man who had struck his little brother he would drag him over with him a look of fierce joy leaped in his eyes which were drawn to a narrow blue gleam as he waited suddenly nigg burst through the undergrowth and sprang to his side but before the dog could give his first bark of delight the yelp was crushed in his throat and he was hurled with the mighty force of frenzy a black writhing streak of animate nature into the rushing water and there swept down tossed on the rocks taken up and swirled about and thrown again upon the rocks no longer animate but a part of nature's own to return to his primal elements it was done and frail looked at his hands helplessly feeling himself a second time a murderer yet he was in no way more to blame for the first than for this as yet a boy untaught by life he had not learned what to do with the forces within him they rose up madly and mastered him with a man's power to love and hate a man's instincts his untamed nature ready to assert itself for tenderness or cruelty without a man's knowledge of the necessity for self-control where some of his kind would have been inert and listless his inheritance had made him intense and fierce loving and gentle and kind he could be yet when stirred by liquor or anger or fear most terrible his deed had been accomplished with such savage deafness that none pursuing could have guessed the tragedy they might have waited long in the open spaces for the dog's return or the sound of his joyous yelp of recognition but the sacrifice was needless the affectionate creature had been searching on his own behalf careless of the blows with which his master had driven him from his side the day before trembling frail crouched again the silence was filled with pain for him the moment swept on even as the water rushed on and the sun began to drop behind the hills leaving the hollows and deepening purple gloom at last deeming that the search for the time must have been given up he crept cautiously toward the great holly tree not for food but for hope there back in the shadow he sat on a huge log his head bad between his hands and listened presently the silence was broken by a gentle stirring of the fallen leaves not erratically this time only a steady moving forward of human feet again frail's heart bounded and the red sought his cheeks but now with a new emotion he knew of but one footstep which would advance toward his ambush in that way peering out from among the deepest shadows he watched the spot where Cassandra had promised food should be placed for him his eyes no longer a narrow slit of blue but wide and glad his face transformed from the strain of fear with eager joy soon she emerged walking weirdly she carried a bundle of food tied in a cloth and an old overcoat of rough material trailed over one arm these she deposited on the flat stone then stood a moment leaning against the smooth gray bowl of the holly tree breathing quickly from the exertion of the steep climb her eyes followed the undulating line of the mountain above them rising tree fringed against the sky to where the highest peak cut across the setting sun haloed by its long rays of gold no cloud was there but sweeping down the mountain side where the earth mists glowing with iridescent tints draping the crags and floating over the purple hollows the verger of the pines showing through it all gilded and glorified cassandra waiting there might have been the dried of the tree come out to worship in the evening light and grow beautiful so thuring would have thought could he have seen her with the glow on her face and in her eyes and lighting up the fires in her hair but no such classic dream came to the youth lingering among the shadows ashamed to appear before her bestowing on her a dumb adoration unformed and wordless because his friend had modulently boasted that he was the better man in her eyes and could any day win her for himself he had killed him despite all the anguish the deed had wrought in his soul he felt unrepentant now as his eyes rested on her he would do it again and yet it was that very boast that had first awakened in his heart such thought of her for years cassandra had been as his sister although no tie of blood existed between them but suddenly the idea of possession had sprung to life in him when another had assumed the right as his frail had not looked on her since that moment of revelation of which she was so ignorant and so innocent now filled with the shame of his deed and his desires he stood in a torment of longing not daring to move his knees shook and his arms ached at his sides and his eyes filled with hot tears quickly the sun dropped below the edge of the mountain cassandra drew alongside and the glow left her face she looked an instant lingeringly at the article she had brought and turned sadly away then he took a step toward her with hands outstretched forgetful of his shame and all except that she was slipping away from him arrested by the sound of his feet among the leaves she spoke frail are you there her voice was low as if she feared other ears than his might hear he did not move again and speak he could not for remembrance rushed back stiflingly and overwhelmed him describing his white face in the shadow a pity as deep as his shame filled her heart and drew her nearer why frail come out here no one can see you only me still tongue tied by his emotion he came into the light and stood near her in dismay she looked up in his face the big boy brother who had taken her to the little karoo crossing station only two months before rough and prankish as the cult he drove but gentle with all was gone he who stood at her side was older anger had left its mark about his mouth and fear had put a strange wildness in his eyes but there was something else in his reckless set lips that hurt her she shrank from him and he took a step closer then she placed a soothing hand on his arm and perceived he was quivering she thought she understood and the soft pity moistened her eyes and deepened in her heart don't be afraid frail they're gone long ago and won't come back not for a while i reckon he smiled frankly never taking his eyes from her face i ain't fear to them i have been but he shook her hand from his arm and made as if he would push her away then suddenly he leaned toward her and caught her in his arms clasping her so closely that she could feel his wildly beating heart frail frail don't frail you never used to do me this way no i never done you this away i wished i had i've been a big fool he kissed her the first kisses of his young manhood on brow and cheeks and lips in spite of her useless writhings he continued muttering as he held her i sinned for you i killed a man he said he'd have you he allowed you to go down yonder to the school where you were at and marry you and fetch you back i were fooled to allow you to go there for him to follow and get you i killed him he's dead oh frail she moaned if you had only told me i could have given you my promise and you would have known he was lying and spared him and saved your own soul he little knew the strength of his arms as he held her frail i'm like to perish you're hurting me so he lost her and she sank a weary frightened heap at his feet then very tenderly he gathered her in his arms and carried her to the great flat rock and placed her on the old coat she had brought him you know i wouldn't hurt you for the whole world cast he knelt beside her and throwing his arms across her lap buried his face in her dress still trembling with his unmastered emotion she thought him sobbing can you give me your promise now cast now now frail your hands are blood guilty she said slow and hopelessly he grew cold and still waiting in the silence his hands clutched her clothing but he did not lift his head he had shed blood and had lost her they might take him and hang him at last he told her so brokenly and she knew not what to do gently she placed her hand on his head and drew the thick silken hair through her fingers and the touch to his stricken soul was a benediction the pity of her cooled the fever in his blood and swept over his spirit the breath of healing for the first time after the sin and the horror of it after the passion and its anguish came tears he wept and wiped his tears with her dress then she told him how her mother had been hurt how holl had driven the half broken colt and the mule all the way to carousel alone to bring her home and how he had come nigh being killed how a gentleman had helped her when the colt tried to run and the mule was mean and how she had brought him home with her then he lifted his head and looked at her his haggard face drawn with suffering and the calmness of her eyes still further soothed and comforted him they were filled with big tears and he knew the tears were for him for the change which had come upon him lonely and wretched doomed to hide out on the mountain his clothes torn by the brambles and soiled by the red clay of the holes into which he had crawled to hide himself he rose and sat at her side and held her head on his shoulder with gentle hand poor little sister poor little cass i've been awful mean and bad he murmured it's a badness i can't count for no ways when i see that there doctor man i reckon it were him i see lying asleep up yonder and hanging rock a big tall man right thin and white in the face he paused and swallowed as the flowed to continue frail she cried and would have drawn away but that he held her i didn't hurt him cast i'm out of i left him lie there never woke him nor touched him but i felt hit here the badness he struck his chest with his fist i left there fast and come here ever since i killed furred it's been following me that away i reckon i'm cursed to hellfire for it now if they take me or if they don't it's all one it's the hour where i'm going at the last frail there is a way yes there is one way only one if you'll give me your promise cass i'll get away down these mountains and i'll work i'll work hard and get you a house like when i see to the settlement cass i will it's you cass ever since furred said that word i've been plum out of my head last night i slept in wild cat hole and i were that hungered and lone i tried to pray like your ma done teach me and i couldn't think of nothing to say only just oh lord cass that away only your name cass cass all night long i reckon satan put my name in your heart frail appears to me like it is sin naw satan never put your name there he don't middle with such as you he were trying to get your name out in my heart that's what he were trying for he knows i'd go bad right quick if he could it were your name kept my hands off in that doctor man they're on the rock give me your promise now cass it'll save me then why didn't it save you from killing furred she asked oh god he moaned and was silent listen frail she said at last can't you see it sin for you and me to sit here like this like we dare to be sweethearts when you have shed blood for this take your hands off me and let me go down to mother slowly his hold relaxed and his head drooped but he did not move his arms she pushed them gently from her and stood a moment looking down at him his arms drooped upon the stone at his side listless and empty and again her pitying soul reached out to him and enveloped him frail there's only one way that i can give you my promise she said he held out his arms to her no i can't sit that way you can see that the good book says ye must repent and be born again he groaned and covered his face with his hands then you would be a new man without sin i reckon you have suffered a heap and repented a heap since you did that frail i'm feared i'm feared if you were here and robbed me again like you done that time i'm feared i'd do it again like you were talking about see you cast he rose and stood close to her the soft dusk was wrapping them about and she began to fear lest she lose her control over him she took up the bundle of food and placed it in his hand here take this in the coat to frail come down and have supper with mother and me tonight and sleep in your own bed they won't search here for one while i reckon and you'll be safer than hiding in wildcat hole frail heard them say they reckoned you'd lit off down the mountain and were hiding in some nearby town they'll hunt you there first come she walked on and he obediently followed when we get in either house i'll go first and see if the way is clear you wait back if i want you to run i'll call twice quick and sharp but if i want you to come right in i'll call once low and long after that no word was spoken they clamored down the steep winding path and not far from the house she left him she wondered nigg did not bound out to greet her but supposed he must be curled up near the hearth and comfort frail also thought of the dog as he sat cowering under the laurel shrubs and set his teeth in anguish and sorrow cast hate it when she finds out he muttered after a moment waiting and listening he heard her long low call flowed out to him falling on his hearth spirit it sounded heavenly sweet end of chapter four