CHAPTER 3.
A "BLAB SCHOOL" ON KINGDOM COME
Chad was awakened by the touch of a cold nose at his ear, the rasp of awarm tongue across his face, and the tug of two paws at his cover. "Gitdown, Jack!" he said, and Jack, with a whimper of satisfaction, wentback to the fire that was roaring up the chimney, and a deep voicelaughed and called:
"I reckon you better git UP, little man!"
Old Joel was seated at the fire with his huge legs crossed and a pipein his mouth. It was before busily astir. There was the sound oftramping in the frosty air outside and the noise of getting breakfastready in the kitchen. As Chad sprang up, he saw Melissa's yellow hairdrop out of sight behind the foot of the bed in the next corner, and heturned his face quickly, and, slipping behind the foot of his own bedand into his coat and trousers, was soon at the fire himself, with oldJoel looking him over with shrewd kindliness.
"Yo' dawg's got a heap o' sense," said the old hunter, and Chad toldhim how old Jack was, and how a cattle-buyer from the "settlements" ofthe Bluegrass had given him to Chad when Jack was badly hurt and hisowner thought he was going to die. And how Chad had nursed him and howthe two had always been together ever since. Through the door of thekitchen, Chad could see the old mother with her crane and pots andcooking-pans; outside, he could hear the moo of the old brindle, thebleat of her calf, the nicker of a horse, one lusty sheep-call, and thehungry bellow of young cattle at the barn, where Tall Tom was feedingthe stock. Presently Rube stamped in with a back log and Dolph camethrough with a milk-pail.
"I can milk," said Chad, eagerly, and Dolph laughed.
"All right, I'll give ye a chance," he said, and old Joel lookedpleased, for it was plain that the little stranger was not going to bea drone in the household, and, taking his pipe from his mouth butwithout turning his head, he called out:
"Git up thar, Melissy."
Getting no answer, he looked around to find Melissa standing at thefoot of the bed.
"Come here to the fire, little gal, nobody's agoin to eat ye."
Melissa came forward, twisting her hands in front of her, and stood,rubbing one bare foot over the other on the hearth-stones. She turnedher face with a blush when Chad suddenly looked at her, and,thereafter, the little man gazed steadily into the fire in order toembarrass her no more.
With the breaking of light over the mountain, breakfast was over andthe work of the day began. Tom was off to help a neighbor "snake" logsdown the mountain and into Kingdom Come, where they would be "rafted"and floated on down the river to the capital--if a summer tide shouldcome--to be turned into fine houses for the people of the Bluegrass.Dolph and Rube disappeared at old Joel's order to "go meet them sheep."Melissa helped her mother clear away the table and wash the dishes; andChad, out of the tail of his eye, saw her surreptitiously feedinggreedy Jack, while old Joel still sat by the fire, smoking silently.Chad stepped outside. The air was chill, but the mists were rising anda long band of rich, warm light lay over a sloping spur up the river,and where this met the blue morning shadows, the dew was beginning todrip and to sparkle. Chad could nor stand inaction long, and his eyelighted up when he heard a great bleating at the foot of the spur andthe shouts of men and boys. Just then the old mother called from therear of the cabin.
"Joel, them sheep air comin'!"
The big form of the old hunter filled the doorway and Jack bounded outbetween his legs, while little Melissa appeared with two books, readyfor school. Down the road came the flock of lean mountain-sheep, Dolphand Rube driving them. Behind, slouched the Dillon tribe--Daws andWhizzer and little Tad; Daws's father, old Tad, long, lean, stooping,crafty: and two new ones cousins to Daws--Jake and Jerry, the gianttwins. "Joel Turner," said old Tad, sourly, "here's yo' sheep!"
Joel had bought the Dillons' sheep and meant to drive them to thecounty-seat ten miles down the river. There had evidently been adisagreement between the two when the trade was made, for Joel pulledout a gray pouch of coonskin, took from it a roll of bills, and,without counting them, held them out.
"Tad Dillon," he said, shortly, "here's yo' money!"
The Dillon father gave possession with a gesture and the Dillonfaction, including Whizzer and the giant twins, drew asidetogether--the father morose; Daws watching Dolph and Rube with a lookof much meanness; little Tad behind him, watching Chad, his facescrewed up with hate; and Whizzer, pretending not to see Jack, butdarting a surreptitious glance at him now and then, for then and therewas starting a feud that was to run fiercely on, long after the war wasdone.
"Git my hoss, Rube," said old Joel, and Rube turned to the stable,while Dolph kept an eye on the sheep, which were lying on the road orstraggling down the river. As Rube opened the stable-door, a dirtywhite object bounded out, and Rube, with a loud curse, tumbled overbackward into the mud, while a fierce old ram dashed with a triumphantbleat for the open gate. Beelzebub, as the Turner mother had christenedthe mischievous brute, had been placed in the wrong stall and Beelzebubwas making for freedom. He gave another triumphant baa as he sweptbetween Dolph's legs and through the gate, and, with an answeringchorus, the silly sheep sprang to their feet and followed. A sheephates water, but not more than he loves a leader, and Beelzebub fearednothing. Straight for the water of the low ford the old conqueror madeand, in the wake of his masterful summons, the flock swept, like aMormon household, after him. Then was there a commotion indeed. OldJoel shouted and swore; Dolph shouted and swore and Rube shouted andswore. Old Dillon smiled grimly, Daws and little Tad shouted withderisive laughter, and the big twins grinned. The mother came to thedoor, broom in hand, and, with a frowning face, watched the sheepsplash through the water and into the woods across the river. LittleMelissa looked frightened. Whizzer, losing his head, had run down afterthe sheep, barking and hastening their flight, until called back with amighty curse from old Joel, while Jack sat on his haunches looking atChad and waiting for orders.
"Goddlemighty!" said Joel, "how air we goin' to git them sheep back?"Up and up rose the bleating and baaing, for Beelzebub, like the princeof devils that he was, seemed bent on making all the mischief possible.
"How AIR we goin' to git 'em back?"
Chad nodded then, and Jack with an eager yelp made for theriver--Whizzer at his heels. Again old Joel yelled furiously, as didDolph and Rube, and Whizzer stopped and turned back with a droopingtail, but Jack plunged in. He knew but one voice behind him and Chad'swas not in the chorus.
"Call yo' dawg back, boy," said Joel, sternly, and Chad opened his lipswith anything but a call for Jack to come back--it was instead a finehigh yell of encouragement and old Joel was speechless.
"That dawg'll kill them sheep," said Daws Dillon aloud.
Joel's face was red and his eyes rolled.
"Call that damned feist back, I tell ye," he shouted at last. "Hyeh,Rube, git my gun, git my gun!"
Rube started for the house, but Chad laughed. Jack had reached theother bank now, and was flashing like a ball of gray light through theweeds and up into the woods; and Chad slipped down the bank and intothe river, hieing him on excitedly.
Joel was beside himself and he, too, lumbered down to the river,followed by Dolph, while the Dillons roared from the road.
"Boy!" he roared. "Eh, boy, eh! what's his name, Dolph? Call him back,Dolph, call the little devil back. If I don't wear him out with ahickory; holler fer 'em, damn 'em! Heh-o-oo-ee!" The old hunter'sbellow rang through the woods like a dinner-horn. Dolph was shouting,too, but Jack and Chad seemed to have gone stone-deaf; and Rube, whohad run down with the gun, started with an oath into the river himself,but Joel halted him.
"Hol'on, hol'on!" he said, listening. "By the eternal, he's a-roundin''em up!" The sheep were evidently much scattered, to judge from thebleating, but here, there, and everywhere, they could hear Jack's bark,while Chad seemed to have stopped in the woods and, from one place, wasshouting orders to his dog. Plainly, Jack was no sheep-killer and byand by Dolph and Rube left off shouting, and old Joel's face becameplacid and all of them from
swearing helplessly fell to waitingquietly. Soon the bleating became less and less, and began toconcentrate on the mountain-side. Not far below, they could hear Chad:
"Coo-oo-sheep! Coo-oo-sh'p-cooshy-cooshy-coo-oo-sheep!"
The sheep were answering. They were coming down a ravine, and Chad'svoice rang out above:
"Somebody come across, an' stand on each side o' the holler."
Dolph and Rube waded across then, and soon the sheep came crowding downthe narrow ravine with Jack barking behind them and Chad shooing themdown. But for Dolph and Rube, Beelzebub would have led them up or downthe river, and it was hard work to get him into the water until Jack,who seemed to know what the matter was, sharply nipped several sheepnear him. These sprang violently forward, the whole flock in frontpushed forward, too, and Beelzebub was thrust from the bank. Nothingelse being possible, the old ram settled himself with a snort into thewater and made for the other shore. Chad and Jack followed and, whenthey reached the road, Beelzebub was again a prisoner; the sheep,swollen like sponges, were straggling down the river, and Dillons andTurners were standing around in silence. Jack shook himself and droppedpanting in the dust at his master's feet, without so much as an upwardglance or a lift of his head for a pat of praise. As old Joel raisedone foot heavily to his stirrup, he grunted, quietly:
"Well, I be damned." And when he was comfortably in his saddle he saidagain, with unction:
"I DO be damned. I'll just take that dawg to help drive them sheep downto town. Come on, boy."
Chad started joyfully, but the old mother called from the door: "Who'sa-goin' to take this gal to school, I'd like to know?"
Old Joel pulled in his horse, straightened one leg, and looked allaround--first at the Dillons, who had started away, then at Dolph andRube, who were moving determinedly after the sheep (it was Court Day intown and they could not miss Court Day), and then at Chad, who halted.
"Boy," he said, "don't you want to go to school--you ought to go toschool?"
"Yes," said Chad, obediently, though the trip to town--and Chad hadnever been to a town--was a sore temptation.
"Go on, then, an' tell the teacher I sent ye. Here, Mammy--eh, what'syo' name, boy? Oh, Mammy--Chad, here 'll take her. Take good keer o'that gal, boy, an' learn yo' a-b-abs like a man now."
Melissa came shyly forward from the door and Joel whistled to Jack andcalled him, but Jack though he liked nothing better than to drive sheeplay still, looking at Chad.
"Go 'long, Jack," said Chad, and Jack sprang up and was off, though hestopped again and looked back, and Chad had to tell him again to go on.In a moment dog, men, and sheep were moving in a cloud of dust around abend in the road and little Melissa was at the gate.
"Take good keer of 'Lissy," said the mother from the porch, kindly; andChad, curiously touched all at once by the trust shown him, stalkedahead like a little savage, while Melissa with her basket followedsilently behind. The boy never thought of taking the basket himself:that is not the way of men with women in the hills and not once did helook around or speak on the way up the river and past the blacksmith'sshop and the grist-mill just beyond the mouth of Kingdom Come; but whenthey arrived at the log school-house it was his turn to be shy and hehung back to let Melissa go in first. Within, there was no floor butthe bare earth, no window but the cracks between the logs, and no desksbut the flat sides of slabs, held up by wobbling pegs. On one side weregirls in linsey and homespun: some thin, undersized, underfed, and withweak, dispirited eyes and yellow tousled hair; others, round-faced,round-eyed, dark, and sturdy; most of them large-waisted andround-shouldered--especially the older ones--from work in the fields;but, now and then, one like Melissa, the daughter of a valley farmer,erect, agile, spirited, intelligent. On the other side were the boys,in physical characteristics the same and suggesting the same socialdivisions: at the top the farmer--now and then a slave-holder andperhaps of gentle blood--who had dropped by the way on the westwardmarch of civilization and had cleared some rich river bottom and aneighboring summit of the mountains, where he sent his sheep and cattleto graze; where a creek opened into this valley some free-settler,whose grandfather had fought at King's Mountain--usually ofScotch-Irish descent, often English, but sometimes German or sometimeseven Huguenot--would have his rude home of logs; under him, and inwretched cabins at the head of the creek or on the washed spur of themountain above, or in some "deadenin"' still higher up and swept bymists and low-trailing clouds, the poor white trash--worthlessdescendants of the servile and sometimes criminal class who might havetraced their origin back to the slums of London; hand-to-mouth tenantsof the valley-aristocrat, hewers of wood for him in the lowlands andupland guardians of his cattle and sheep. And finally, walking up anddown the earth floor--stern and smooth of face and of a preternaturaldignity hardly to be found elsewhere--the mountain school-master.
It was a "blab school," as the mountaineers characterize a school inwhich the pupils study aloud, and the droning chorus as shrill aslocust cries ceased suddenly when Chad came in, and every eye wasturned on him with a sexless gaze of curiosity that made his faceredden and his heart throb. But he forgot them when the school-masterpierced him with eyes that seemed to shoot from under his heavy browslike a strong light from deep darkness. Chad met them, nor did his chindroop, and Caleb Hazel saw that the boy's face was frank and honest,and that his eye was fearless and kind, and, without question, hemotioned to a seat--with one wave of his hand setting Chad on thecorner of a slab and the studious drone to vibrating again. When theboy ventured to glance around, he saw Daws Dillon in one corner, makinga face at him, and little Tad scowling from behind a book: and on theother side, among the girls, he saw another hostile face--next littleMelissa which had the pointed chin and the narrow eyes of the "Dillonbreed," as old Joel called the family, whose farm was at the mouth ofKingdom Come and whose boundary touched his own. When the first morningrecess came, "little recess," as it was called--the master kept Chad inand asked him his name; if he had ever been to school, and whether heknew his A B C's; and he showed no surprise when Chad, without shame,told him no. So the master got Melissa's spelling-book and pointed outthe first seven letters of the alphabet, and made Chad repeat themthree times--watching the boy's earnest, wrinkling brow closely andwith growing interest. When school "took up" again, Chad was told tosay them aloud in concert with the others--which he did, until he couldrepeat them without looking at his book, and the master saw him thussaying them while his eyes roved around the room, and he nodded tohimself with satisfaction--for he was accustomed to visible communionwith himself, in school and out. At noon--"big recess" Melissa gaveChad some corn-bread and bacon, and the boys gathered around him, whilethe girls looked at him curiously, merely because he was a stranger,and some of them--especially the Dillon girl--whispered, and Chadblushed and was uncomfortable, for once the Dillon girl laughedunkindly. The boys had no games, but they jumped and threw "rocks" withgreat accuracy at a little birch-tree, and Daws and Tad always spat ontheir stones and pointed with the forefinger of the left hand first atwhat they were going to throw at, while Chad sat to one side and tookno part, though he longed to show them what he could do. By and by theyfell to wrestling, and finally Tad bantered him for a trial. Chadhesitated, and his late enemy misunderstood.
"I'll give ye both underholts agin," he said, loftily, "you're afeerd!"
This was too much, and Chad sprang to his feet and grappled, disdainingthe proffered advantage, and got hurled to the ground, his headstriking the earth violently, and making him so dizzy that the bravesmile with which he took his fall looked rather sickly and pathetic.
"Yes, an' Whizzer can whoop yo' dawg, too," said Tad, and Chad saw thathe was going to have trouble with those Dillons, for Daws winked at theother boys, and the Dillon girl laughed again scornfully--at which Chadsaw Melissa's eyes flash and her hands clinch as, quite unconsciously,she moved toward him to take his part; and all at once he was glad thathe had nobody else to champion him.
"You wouldn' dare tech him if one o
f my brothers was here," she said,indignantly, "an' don t you dare tech him again, Tad Dillon. An' you--"she said, witheringly, "you--" she repeated and stopped helpless forthe want of words but her eyes spoke with the fierce authority of theTurner clan, and its dominant power for half a century, and NancyDillon shrank, though she turned and made a spiteful face, when Melissawalked toward the school-house alone.
That afternoon was the longest of Chad's life--it seemed as though itwould never come to an end; for Chad had never sat so still for solong. His throat got dry repeating the dreary round of letters over andover and his head ached and he fidgeted in his chair while the slowhours passed and the sun went down behind the mountain and left theschool-house in rapidly cooling shadow. His heart leaped when the lastclass was heard and the signal was given that meant freedom for thelittle prisoners; but Melissa sat pouting in her seat--she had missedher lesson and must be kept in for a while. So Chad, too, kept his seatand the master heard him say his letters, without the book, and noddedhis head as though to say to himself that such quickness was exactlywhat he had looked for. By the time Chad had learned down to the letterO, Melissa was ready, for she was quick, too, and it was her anger thatmade her miss--and the two started home, Chad stalking ahead once more.To save him, he could not say a word of thanks, but how he wished thata bear or a wild-cat would spring into the road! He would fight it withteeth and naked hands to show her how he felt and to save her from harm.
The sunlight still lay warm and yellow far under the crest of PineMountain, and they had not gone far when Caleb Hazel overtook them andwith long strides forged ahead. The school-master "boarded around" andit was his week with the Turners, and Chad was glad, for he alreadyloved the tall, gaunt, awkward man who asked him question afterquestion so kindly--loved him as much as he revered and feared him--andthe boy's artless, sturdy answers in turn pleased Caleb Hazel. And whenChad told who had given him Jack, the master began to talk about thefaraway, curious country of which the cattle-dealer had told Chad somuch: where the land was level and there were no mountains at all;where on one farm might be more sheep, cattle, and slaves than Chad hadseen in all his life; where the people lived in big houses of stone andbrick--what brick was Chad could not imagine--and rode along hard,white roads in shiny covered wagons, with two "niggers" on a high seatin front and one little "nigger" behind to open gates, and were proudand very high-heeled indeed; where there were towns that had morepeople than a whole county in the mountains, with rock roads runningthrough them in every direction and narrow rock paths along theseroads--like rows of hearth-stones--for the people to walk on--the landof the bluegrass--the "settlemints of old Kaintuck."
And there were churches everywhere as tall as trees and school-housesa-plenty; and big schools, called colleges, to which the boys went whenthey were through with the little schools. The master had gone to oneof these colleges for a year, and he was trying to make enough money togo again. And Chad must go some day, too; there was no reason why heshouldn't, since any boy could do anything he pleased if he only madeup his mind and worked hard and never gave up. The master was anorphan, too, he said with a slow smile; he had been an orphan for along while, and indeed the lonely struggle of his own boyhood was whatwas helping to draw him to Chad. This college, he said, was a hugebrown house as big as a cliff that the master pointed out, that, grayand solemn, towered high above the river; and with a rock porch biggerthan a great bowlder that hung just under the cliff, with twenty long,long stone steps to climb before one came to the big double front door.
"How do you git thar?" Chad asked so breathlessly that Melissa lookedquickly up with a sudden foreboding that she might lose her littleplayfellow some day. The master had walked, and it took him a week. Agood horse could make the trip in four days, and the river-men floatedlogs down the river to the capital in eight or ten days, according tothe "tide." "When did they go?" In the spring, when the 'tides' came."The Turners went down, didn't they, Melissa?" And Melissa said thather brother Tom had made one trip, and that Dolph and Rube were "might'nigh crazy" to go that coming spring; and, thereupon, a mightyresolution filled Chad's heart to the brim and steadied his eyes, buthe did not open his lips then.
Dusk was settling when the Turner cabin came in sight. None of themen-folks had come home yet, and the mother was worried; there was woodto cut and the cows to milk, and Chad's friend, old Betsey the brindle,had strayed off again; but she was glad to see Caleb Hazel, who,without a word, went out to the wood-pile, took off his coat, and swungthe axe with mighty arms, while Chad carried in the wood and piled itin the kitchen and then the two went after the old brindle together.
When they got back there was a great tumult at the cabin. Tom hadbrought some friends from over the mountain, and had told the neighborsas he came along that there was going to be a party at his house thatnight.
So there was a great bustle about the barn where Rube was getting thestock fed and the milking done; and around the kitchen, where Dolph wascutting more wood and piling it up at the door. Inside, the mother washurrying up supper with Sintha, an older daughter, who had just comehome from a visit, and Melissa helping her, while old Joel sat by thefire in the sleeping-room and smoked, with Jack lying on the hearth, oranywhere he pleased, for Jack, with his gentle ways, was winning thehousehold one by one. He sprang up when he heard Chad's voice, and flewat him, jumping up and pawing him affectionately and licking his facewhile Chad hugged him and talked to him as though he were human and abrother; never before had the two been separated for a day. So, whilethe master helped Rube at the barn and Chad helped Dolph at thewood-pile, Jack hung about his master--tired and hungry as he was andmuch as he wanted to be by the fire or waiting in the kitchen for a slybit from Melissa, whom he knew at once as the best of his new friends.
After supper, Dolph got out his banjo and played "Shady Grove," and"Blind Coon Dog," and "Sugar Hill," and "Gamblin' Man," while Chad'seyes glistened and his feet shuffled under his chair. And when Dolphput the rude thing down on the bed and went into the kitchen, Chadedged toward it and, while old Joel was bragging about Jack to theschool-master, he took hold of it with trembling fingers and touchedthe strings timidly. Then he looked around cautiously: nobody waspaying any attention to him and he took it up into his lap and began topick, ever so softly. Nobody saw him but Melissa, who slipped quietlyto the back of the room and drew near him. Softly and swiftly Chad'sfingers worked and Melissa could scarcely hear the sound of the banjounder her father's loud voice, but she could make out that he wasplaying a tune that still vibrates unceasingly from the Pennsylvaniaborder to the pine-covered hills of Georgia--"Sourwood Mountain."Melissa held her breath while she listened--Dolph could not play likethat--and by and by she slipped quietly to her father and pulled hissleeve and pointed to Chad. Old Joel stopped talking, but Chad nevernoticed; his head was bent over the neck of the banjo, his body wasswaying rhythmically, his chubby fingers were going like lightning, andhis eyes were closed--the boy was fairly lost to the world. The tunecame out in the sudden silence, clean-cut and swinging:
Heh-o-dee-um-dee-eedle-dahdee-dee!
rang the strings and old Joel's eyes danced.
"Sing it, boy!" he roared, "sing it!" And Chad sprang from the bed, onfire with confusion and twisting his fingers helplessly. He lookedalmost frightened when Dolph ran back into the room and cried:
"Who was that a-pickin' that banjer?"
It was not often that Dolph showed such excitement, but he had goodcause, and, when he saw Chad standing, shamefaced and bashful, in themiddle of the floor, and Melissa joyously pointing her finger at him,he caught up the banjo from the bed and put it into the boy's hands."Here, you just play that tune agin!"
Chad shrank back, half distressed and half happy, and only a hailoutside from the first of the coming guests saved him from utterconfusion. Once started, they came swiftly, and in half an hour allwere there. Each got a hearty welcome from old Joel, who, with a winkand a laugh and a nod to the old mother, gave a hearty squeeze to somebuxo
m girl, while the fire roared a heartier welcome still. Then wasthere a dance indeed--no soft swish of lace and muslin, but the activeswing of linsey and simple homespun; no French fiddler's bows andscrapings, no intricate lancers, no languid waltz; but neat shufflingforward and back, with every note of the music beat; floor-thumping"cuttings of the pigeon's wing," and jolly jigs, two by two, and agreat "swinging of corners," and "caging the bird," and "fust lady tothe right CHEAT an' swing"; no flirting from behind fans and understairways and little nooks, but honest, open courtship--strong armsabout healthy waists, and a kiss taken now and then, with everybody tosee and nobody to care who saw. If a chair was lacking, a pair ofbrawny knees made one chair serve for two, but never, if you please,for two men. Rude, rough, semi-barbarous, if you will, but simple,natural, honest, sane, earthy--and of the earth whence springs the oakand in time, maybe, the flower of civilization.
At the first pause in the dance, old Joel called loudly for Chad. Theboy tried to slip out of the door, but Dolph seized him and pulled himto a chair in the corner and put the banjo in his hands. Everybodylooked on with curiosity at first, and for a little while Chadsuffered; but when the dance turned attention from him, he forgothimself again and made the old thing hum with all the rousing tunesthat had ever swept its string. When he stopped at last, to wipe theperspiration from his face, he noticed for the first time theschool-master, who was yet divided between the church and the law,standing at the door, silent, grave, disapproving. And he was not alonein his condemnation; in many a cabin up and down the river, stern talkwas going on against the ungodly 'carryings on,' under the Turner roof,and, far from accepting them as proofs of a better birth and broadersocial ideas, these Calvinists of the hills set the merry-makers downas the special prey of the devil, and the dance and the banjo as slyplots of the same to draw their souls to hell.
Chad felt the master's look, and he did not begin playing again, butput the banjo down by his chair and the dance came to an end. Once moreChad saw the master look, this time at Sintha, who was leaning againstthe wall with a sturdy youth in a fringed hunting-shirt bending overher--his elbow against a log directly over her shoulder, Sintha saw thelook, too, and she answered with a little toss of her head, but whenCaleb Hazel turned to go out the door, Chad saw that the girl's eyesfollowed him. A little later, Chad went out too, and found the masterat the corner of the fence and looking at a low red star whose rich,peaceful light came through a gap in the hills. Chad shyly drew nearhim, hoping in some way to get a kindly word, but the master was soabsorbed that he did not see or hear the boy and Chad, awed by thestern, solemn face, withdrew and, without a word to anybody, climbedinto the loft and went to bed. He could hear every stroke on the floorbelow, every call of the prompter, and the rude laughter and banter,but he gave little heed to it all. For he lay thinking of Caleb Hazeland listening again to the stories he and the cattle-dealer had toldhim about the wonderful settlements. "God's Country," the dealer alwayscalled it, and such it must be, if what he and the master said wastrue. By and by the steady beat of feet under him, the swift notes ofthe banjo, the calls of the prompter and the laughter fused, becameinarticulate, distant--ceased. And Chad, as he was wont to do,journeyed on to "God's Country" in his dreams.