Down the Ravine

his unwonted vigil the old bark-mill was early astir, and he went alertly about

s 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 timb

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 patien

im 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

om 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;

"I'm powerful glad ye happened ter kem

ate said cavalierly. "I hates to wa

at the ground. There was a sudd

to the bark-mill, whirle

he asked, with a dange

"I hain't seen her till this min

ed. "Quit snappin' that lash. 'Pears-like ter me ez ye

nderful fast," the sly N

r las' March, 'cordin' ter the mark on the door," he declared, p

off ter say ter me?" Nate asked, cur

whose aid he could secure. There were many circumstances that made this seem wise. But when the disclosure was imminent, something in those small, bea

t so ill-defined, which vividly warns the ill-judged and yet cannot stop the ton

as their gaze. Again their expression struck Birt's attention. He hesitated onc

tone dead ef I ever

in the woods yestiddy. W

n his face. A strong flush rose to the roots of his sandy hair, his lips quivered, an

ed Birt, tr

ate. He was about to star

ell ye, without we-un

lty repressing his impatience,

f 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, o

his head as his friend talked, and the two dissimilar trains of th

lp 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'

id. "'Kase ef 'twarn't fur me, ye couldn't git none. An' ef ye don't say two thurds, I'l

it is," said

rness down the ravine hard by, had been dashed into Nate's thin, sharp face,

omised not ter tell. I dunno whether I kin holp nohow. I hev got ter do my sh

at him in si

bordinate temper, and did as little work as he pleased at home. He often rema

dn't want me round '

ed when I axed him this mornin' ez he'd be willin' ef I coul

fur me ter go prowlin' in the woods, a-huntin' fur gold, an' our fodder jes' a-sufferin'

onvince. "It air jes' yander nigh that thar salt lick down the ravine. I marks t

gret seized him. "But ye ain't ter go thar 'tho

in my mind whether I'll ondertake ter holp or no. That pullin

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

ed was he in fitting this fragment of fact into his mental mosa

a question of ap

ine don't b'long ter yer fol

torted, in rising wrath. "D'ye s'pose I'd be

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 f

"Ef my mother hed knowed bout'n it all, I wouldn't hev been 'lowed ter tell him. S

th 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

lcome sound fell upon his ear - "Tenness

ntryside superstition, or whether by a singular coincidence, he discovered that he had business elsewhere, he was soon gone, and

and walked away silently

ist. "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 th

t 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

war powerful tried the t'other day ter think what hed

n' thar's no gittin' them out, nuther. I snaked under the house yestiddy an' sarched, an' sarched! - an' I never fund but two. An'

s consigned to that limbo guarded by Towse. Mrs. Dicey stood in silence for a time, gazing upon the unutterably g

ar way, an' a-leavin' of we-uns hyar, all by ourselves sech a dark night. I'm always afear

y a-climbin' over the fence ter thar cornfield, with a haffen dozen roastin'-ears under his arm an' a watermillion on his head. But war it a haffen doze

'em," said Mrs. Dicey. "Pick that chile up

ntain, 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

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 betr