CHAPTER X
OVER THE MOUNTAINS
The boat was secured firmly among the bushes, and finding an abundanceof fallen wood along the beach, they pulled it into a heap and kindled afire. The night, as usual, was cool, but the pleasant flames dispelledthe chill, and the cove was very snug and comfortable after a day ofhard and continuous work. Jarvis and Ike did the cooking, at which theywere adepts.
"After pullin' a boat ten or twelve hours there's nothin' like somethin'warm inside you to make you feel good," said Jarvis. "Ike, you lunkhead,hurry up with that coffee pot. Me an' Harry can't wait more'n a minutelonger."
Ike grinned and hurried. A fine bed of coals had now formed, and in afew minutes a great pot of coffee was boiling and throwing out savoryodors. Jarvis took a small flat skillet from the boat and fried thecorn cakes. Harry fried bacon and strips of dried beef in another.The homely task in good company was most grateful to him. His facereflected his pleasure.
"Providin' it don't rain on you, campin' out is stimulatin' to the bodyan' soul," said Jarvis. "You don't know what a genuine appetite isuntil you live under the blue sky by day, and a starry sky by night.Harry, you'll find three tin plates in the locker in the boat. Fetch'em."
Harry abandoned his skillet for a moment, and brought the plates.Ike, the coffee now being about ready, produced three tin cups, and withthese simple preparations they began their supper. The flames wentdown and the fire became a great bed of coals, glowing in the darkness,and making a circle of light, the edges of which touched the boat.Harry found that Jarvis was telling the truth. The long work and thecool night air, without a roof above him, gave him a hunger, the like ofwhich he had not known for a long time. He ate cake after cake of thecorn bread and piece after piece of the meat. Jarvis and Ike kept himfull company.
"Didn't I tell you it was fine?" said Jarvis, stretching his long lengthand sighing with content. "I feel so good that I'm near bustin' intosong."
"Then bust," said Harry.
"Soft, o'er the fountain, lingering falls the southern moon, Far o'er the mountain breaks the day too soon. In thy dark eyes' splendor, where the warm light loves to dwell, Weary looks yet tender, speak their fond farewell. 'Nita, Juanita! Ask thy soul if we should part, 'Nita, Juanita! Lean thou on my heart."
The notes of the old melody swelled, and, as before, the deep channelof the river gave them back again in faint and dying echoes. Time andplace and the voice of Jarvis, with its haunting quality, threw a spellover Harry. The present rolled away. He was back in the romantic oldpast, of which he had read so much, with Boone and Kenton and Harrod andthe other great forest rangers.
The darkness sank down, deeper and heavier. The stars came outpresently and twinkled in the blue. Yet it was still dim in the gorge,save where the glowing bed of coals cast a circle of light. TheKentucky, showing a faint tinge of blue, flowed with a soft murmur.Harry and Ike were lying on the grass, propped each on one elbow,while Jarvis, sitting with his back against a small tree, was stillsinging:
"When in thy dreaming, moons like these shall shine again And daylight beaming prove thy dreams are vain, Wilt thou not, relenting, for thy absent lover sigh? In thy heart consenting to a prayer gone by, 'Nita, Juanita, let me linger by thy side; 'Nita, Juanita, be thou my own fair bride."
The song ceased and the murmur of the river came more clearly. Harrywas drawn deeper and deeper into the old dim past. Lying there in thegorge, with only the river to be seen, the wilderness came back, and thewhole land was clothed with the mighty forests. He brought himself backwith an effort, when he saw Jarvis looking at him and smiling.
"'Tain't so bad down here on a spring night, is it, Harry?" he said."Always purvidin', as I said, that it don't rain."
"Where did you get that song, Sam?" asked Harry--they had already falleninto the easy habit of calling one another by their first names.
"From a travelin' feller that wandered up into our mount'ins. He couldplay it an' sing it most beautiful, an' I took to it right off. Itgrips you about the heart some way or other, an' it sounds best when youare out at night on a river like this. Harry, I know that you're goin'through our mountins to git to Richmond an' the war. Me an' thatlunkhead Ike, my nephew, hev took a likin' to you. Now, what do youwant to git your head shot off fur? S'pose you stop up in the hillswith us. The huntin's good thar, an' so's the fishin'."
Harry shook his head, but he was very grateful.
"It's good of you to ask me," he said, "but I'm bound to go on."
"Wa'al, if you're boun' to do it I reckon you jest have to, but we'releavin' the invite open. Ef you change your mind on the trip all you'vegot to do is to say so, an' we'll take you in, ain't that so, Ike?"
Ike grinned and nodded. His uncle looked at him admiringly.
"Ike's a lunkhead," he said, "but he's great to travel with. You kinjest talk an' talk an' he never puts in, but agrees with all you say.Now, fellers, we'll put out the fire an' roll in our blankets. I guesswe don't need to keep any watch here."
Harry was soon in a dreamless sleep, but his momentary reversion tothe wilderness awoke him after a while. He sat up in his blankets andlooked around. A mere mass of black coals showed where the fire hadbeen, and two long dark objects looking like logs in the dim light werehis comrades.
He cast the blankets aside entirely and walked a little distance up thestream. The instinct that had awakened him was right. He heard voicesand saw a light. Then he remembered the rope ferry and he had no doubtthat some one was crossing, although it was midnight and past. He wentback and touched Jarvis lightly on the shoulder. The mountaineer awokeinstantly and sat up, all his faculties alert.
"What is it?" he asked in a whisper.
"People crossing the river at the ferry above," Harry whispered back.
"Then we'll go and see who they are. Like as not they're soldiers inthis war that people seem bound to fight, when they could have a lotmore fun at home. Jest let Ike sleep on. He's my sister's son, but Idon't b'lieve anybody would ever think of kidnappin' him."
The two went silently among the bushes toward the ferry which crossedthe river at a point where the hills on either side dipped low. As theydrew near, they heard many voices and the lights increased to a dozen.Jarvis's belief that it was no party of ordinary travelers seemedcorrect.
"Let's go a little nearer. The bushes will still hide us," whisperedthe mountaineer to the boy. "They ain't no enemies o' ours, but I guesswe'd better keep out o' their business, though my inquirin' turn o' mindmakes me anxious to see just who they are."
They walked to the end of the stretch of bushes, and, while yet inshelter, could see clearly all that was going on, especially as therewas no effort at concealment on the part of those who were crossing thestream. They numbered at least two hundred men, and all had arms andhorses, although they were dismounted now, and the horses, accompaniedby small guards, were being carried over the river first. Evidently themen understood their work, as it was being done rapidly and without muchnoise.
Harry's attention was soon concentrated on three men who stood near theedge of the bushes, not more than thirty feet away. They wore slouchhats and were wrapped in heavy, dark cloaks. They stood with theirbacks to him, and although they seemed to be taking no part in themanagement of the crossing, they watched everything intently. Two ofthem were very tall, but the third was shorter and slender.
The moon brightened presently, and some movement at the ferry causedthe three men to turn. Harry started and checked an exclamation at hislips. But the watchful mountaineer had noted his surprise.
"I guess you know 'em, Harry," he said.
"Yes," replied the boy. "See the one in the center with the droopingmustaches and the splendid figure. People have called him thehandsomest man in the United States. He was a guest at my father'shouse last year when he was running for the presidency. It is the manwho received more popular votes than Lincoln, but f
ewer in the ElectoralCollege."
"Breckinridge?"
"Yes, John C. Breckinridge."
"Why, he's younger than I expected. He don't look more'n forty."
"Just about forty, I should say. The other tall man is named Morgan,John H. Morgan. I saw him in Lexington once. He's a great horseman.The third, the slender man who looks as if he were all fire, is namedDuke, Basil Duke. I think that he and Morgan are related. I fancy theyare going south, or maybe to Virginia."
"Harry, these are your people."
"Yes, Sam, they are my people."
The mountaineer glanced at the tall youth who had found so warm a placein his heart, and hesitated, but only for a moment. Then he spoke in adecided whisper.
"Since they are your people an' are goin' on the same business that youare, though mebbe not by the same road, now is your time to join 'em,'stead o' workin' your way 'cross the hills with two ignorantmountaineers like me an' that lunkhead, Ike, my nephew."
"No, Sam. I'll confess to you that it's a temptation, but it's likelythat they're not going where I mean to go, and where I should go.I'm going to keep on with you unless you and Ike throw me out of theboat."
"Well spoke, boy," said Jarvis.
He did not tell Harry that Colonel Kenton had asked him to watch overhis son until he should leave him in the mountains, and that he hadgiven him his sacred promise. He understood what a powerful pull thesight of Breckinridge, Morgan and Duke had given to Harry, and he knewthat if the boy were resolved to go with them he could not stop him.
All the horses were now across. The three leaders took their places inthe boat, reached the farther shore and the whole company rode away inthe darkness. Despite his resolution Harry felt a pang when the lastfigure disappeared.
"Our curiosity bein' gratified, I think we'd better go back to sleep,"said Jarvis.
"The anchor's weighed, farewell, farewell!"
"We're seein' 'em goin' south, Harry. I dream ahead sometimes, an' Idream with my eyes open. I've seen the horsemen ridin' in the night,an' I see 'em by the thousands ridin' over a hundred battle fields,their horses' hoofs treadin' on dead men."
"Those are good men, brave and generous."
"Oh, I don't mean them in partickler. Not for a minute. I mean a wholenation, strugglin' an' strugglin' an' swayin' an' swayin'. I see thingsthat people neither North nor South ain't dreamed of yet. But sho!What am I runnin' on this way fur? That lunkhead, Ike, my nephew,ain't such a lunkhead as he looks. Them that say nothin' ain't nevergot nothin' to take back, an' don't never make fools o' theirselves.It's time we was back in our blankets sleepin' sound, 'cause we've gotanother long day o' hard rowin' before us."
Ike had not awakened and Jarvis and Harry were soon asleep again.But they were up at dawn, and, after a brief breakfast, resumed theirjourney on the river, going at a good pace toward the southeast.They were hailed two or three times from the bank by armed men, whetherof the North or South Harry could not tell, but when they revealedthemselves as mere mountaineers on their way back, having sold a raft,they were permitted to continue. After the last such stop Jarvisremarked rather grimly:
"They don't know that there are three good rifles in this boat, backedby five or six pistols, an' that at least two of us, meanin' me and Ike,are 'bout the best shots that ever come out o' the mountains."
But his good nature soon returned. He was not a man who could retainanger long, and before night he was singing again.
"As I strayed from my cot at the close of the day To muse on the beauties of June, 'Neath a jessamine shade I espied a fair maid And she sadly complained to the moon."
"But it's not June, Sam," said Harry, "and there is no moon."
"No, but June's comin' next month, an' the moon's comin' tonight; thatis, if them clouds straight ahead don't conclude to j'in an' make afuss."
The clouds did join, and they made quite a "fuss," pouring out a greatquantity of rain, which a rising wind whipped about sharply. But Jarvisfirst steered the boat under the edge of a high bank, where it wasprotected partly, and they stretched the strong canvas before the firstdrops of rain fell. It was sufficient to keep the three and all theirsupplies dry, and Harry watched the storm beat.
Sullen thunder rolled up from the southwest, and the skies were cutdown the center by burning strokes of lightning. The wind whipped thesurface of the river into white foamy waves. But Harry heard and beheldit all with a certain pleasure. It was good to see the storm seek them,and yet not find them--behind their canvas cover. He remained close inhis place and stared out at the foaming surface of the water. Back wenthis thoughts again to the far-off troubled time, when the hunter in thevast wilderness depended for his life on the quickness of eye and ear.He had read so much of Boone and Kenton and Harrod, and his own greatancestor, and the impression was so vivid, that the vision wastranslated into fact.
"I'm feelin' your feelin's too," said Jarvis, who, glancing at him,had read his mind with almost uncanny intuition. "Times like these,the Injuns an' the wild animals all come back, an' I've felt 'em stillstronger way up in the mountains, where nothin' of the old days is gone'cept the Injuns. Ike, I guess it's cold grub for us tonight. We can'tcook anythin' in all this rain. Reach into that locker an' bring outthe meat an' bread. This ain't so bad, after all. We're snug an' dry,an' we've got plenty to eat, so let the storm howl:
"They bore him away when the day had fled, And the storm was rolling high, And they laid him down in his lonely bed, By the light of an angry sky,
"The lightning flashed and the wild sea lashed The shore with its foaming wave, And the thunder passed on the rushing blast As it howled o'er the rover's grave."
The full tenor rose and swelled above the sweep of wind and rain,and the man's soul was in the words he sang. A great voice with theaccompaniment of storm, the water before them, the lightning blazing atintervals, and the thunder rolling in a sublime refrain, moved Harry tohis inmost soul. The song ceased, but its echo was long in dying on theriver.
"Did you pick up that, too, from a wandering fiddler?" asked Harry.
"No, I don't know where I got it. I s'pose I found scraps here an' thar,but I like to sing it when the night is behavin' jest as it's doin' now.I ain't ever seen the sea, Harry, but it must be a mighty sight,particklarly when the wind's makin' the high waves run."
"Very likely you'd be seasick if you were on it then. I like it bestwhen the waves are not running."
The thunder and lightning ceased after a while, but the rain came witha steady, driving rush. The night had now settled down thick and dark,and, as the banks on either side of the river were very high, Harry feltas if they were in a black canyon. He could see but dimly the surfaceof the river. All else was lost in the heavy gloom. But the boat hadbeen built so well and the canvas cover was so taut and tight that nota drop entered. His sense of comfort increased, and the regular, even,musical thresh of the rain promoted sleep.
"We won't be waked up tonight by people crossin' the river, that'sshore," said Jarvis, "'cause thar ain't no crossin' fur miles, an' ifthere was a crossin' people wouldn't use that crossin' nohow on a nightlike this. So, boys, jest wrap your blankets about yourselves an' goto sleep, an' if you don't hurry I'll beat you to that happy land."
The three were off to the realms of slumber within ten minutes, runninga race about equal. The rain poured all through the night, but theydid not awake until the young sun sent the first beams of day into thegorge. Then Jarvis sat up. He had the faculty of awakening all at once,and he began to furl the canvas awning that had served them so well.The noise awoke the boys who also sat up.
"Get to work, you sleepy heads!" called Jarvis cheerfully. "Look what afine world it is! Here's the river all washed clean, an' the land allwashed clean, too! Stir yourselves, we're goin' to have hot food an'coffee here on the boat.
"I'm dreaming now of Hallie, sweet Hallie, For the thought of her i
s one that never dies. She's sleeping in the valley And the mocking bird is singing where she lies. Listen to the mocking bird, singing o'er her grave. Listen to the mocking bird, singing where the weeping willows wave."
"You sing melancholy songs for one who is as cheerful as you are, Sam,"said Harry.
"That's so. I like the weepy ones best. But they don't really make mefeel sad, Harry. They jest fill me with a kind o' longin' to reach outan' grab somethin' that always floats jest before my hands. A sort o'pleasant sadness I'd call it.
"Ah, well I yet remember When we gathered in the cotton side by side; 'Twas in the mild September And the mocking bird was singing far and wide. Oh, listen to the mocking bird Still singing o'er her grave. Oh, listen to the mocking bird Still singing where the weeping willows wave."
"Now that ain't what you'd call a right merry song, but I never feltbetter in my life than I did when I was singin' it. Here you are,breakfast all ready! We'll eat, drink an' away. I'm anxious to seeour mountains ag'in."
The boat soon reached a point where lower banks ran for some time, and,from the center of the stream, they saw the noble country outspreadbefore them, a vast mass of shimmering green. The rain had ceasedentirely, but the whole earth was sweet and clean from its great bath.Leaves and grass had taken on a deeper tint, and the crisp air was keenwith blooming odors.
Although they soon had a considerable current to fight, they made goodheadway against it. Harry's practice with the oar was giving hismuscles the same quality like steel wire which those of Jarvis and Ikehad. So they went on for that day and others and drew near to thehills. The eyes of Jarvis kindled when he saw the first line of darkgreen slopes massing themselves against the eastern horizon.
"The Bluegrass is mighty fine, an' so is the Pennyroyal," he said,"an' I ain't got nothin' ag'in em. I admit their claims before theymake 'em, but my true love, it's the mountains an' my mountain home.Mebbe some night, Harry, when we tie up to the bank, we'll see a deercomin' down to drink. What do you say to that?"
Harry's eyes kindled, too.
"I say that I want the first shot."
Jarvis laughed.
"True sperrit," he said. "Nobody will set up a claim ag'inst you,less it's that lunkhead, Ike, my nephew. Are you willin' to let himhave it, Ike?"
Ike grinned and nodded.
The Kentucky narrowed and the current grew yet stronger. But changingoftener at the oars they still made good headway. The ranges, darkgreen on the lower slopes, but blue on the higher ridges beyond them,slowly came nearer. Late in the afternoon they entered the hills,and when night came they had left the lowlands several miles behind.They tied up to a great beech growing almost at the water's edge,and made their camp on the ground. Harry's deer did not come that night,but it did on the following one. Then Jarvis and he after supper wentabout a mile up the stream, stalking the best drinking places, and theysaw a fine buck come gingerly to the river. Harry was lucky enough tobring him down with the first shot, an achievement that filled him withpride, and Jarvis soon skinned and dressed the animal, adding him totheir larder.
"I don't shoot deer, 'cept when I need 'em to eat," said Jarvis, "an' wedo need this one. We'll broil strips of him over the coals in themornin'. Don't your mouth water, Harry?"
"It does."
The strips proved the next day to be all that Jarvis had promised,and they continued their journey with renewed elasticity, fair weatherkeeping them company. Deeper and deeper they went into the mountains.The region had all the aspects of a complete wilderness. Now and thenthey saw smoke, which Jarvis said was rising from the chimneys of logcabins, and once or twice they saw cabins themselves in sheltered nooks,but nobody hailed them. The news of the war had spread here, of course,but Harry surmised that it had made the mountaineers cautious,suppressing their natural curiosity. He did not object at all to theirreticence, as it made traveling easier for him.
They were now rowing along a southerly fork of the Kentucky. Anotherdeer had been killed, falling this time to the rifle of Jarvis, and onenight they shot two wild turkeys. Jarvis and his nephew would arrivehome full handed in every respect, and his great tenor boomed outjoyously over the stream, speeding away in echoes among the lofty peaksand ridges that had now turned from hills into real mountains. Theytowered far above the stream, and everywhere there were masses of thedeepest and densest green. The primeval forest clothed the whole earth,and the war to which Harry was going seemed a faint and far thing.
Traveling now became slow, because they always had a strong current tofight. Harry, at times when the country was not too rough, left theboat and walked along the bank. He could go thus for miles withoutfeeling any weariness. Naturally very strong, he did not realize howmuch his work at the oar was increasing his power. The thin vital airof the mountains flowed through his lungs, and when Jarvis sang, as hedid so often, he felt that he could lift up his feet and march as if tothe beat of a drum.
They left the fork of the Kentucky at last and rowed up one of the deepand narrow mountain creeks. Peaks towered all about them, a half mileover their heads, covered from base to crest with unbroken forest.Sometimes the creek flowed between cliffs, and again it opened out intonarrow valleys. In a two days' journey up its course they passed onlytwo cabins.
"In ordinary water we'd have stopped thar," said Jarvis at the secondcabin. "I know the man who lives in it an' he's to be trusted. We'dhave left the boat an' the things with him, an' we'd have walked therest of the way, but the creek is so high now that we kin make at leasttwenty miles more an' tie up at Bill Rudd's place. Thar's no goin'further on the water, 'cause the creek takes a fall of fifteen feet thar,an' this boat is too heavy to be carried around it."
They reached Rudd's place about dark. He was a hospitable mountaineer,with a double-roomed log cabin, a wife and two small children. Hevolunteered gladly to take care of the boat and its belongings, whileJarvis and the boys went on the next day to Jarvis's home about tenmiles away.
Rudd and his wife were full of questions. They were eager to hear ofthe great world which was represented to them by Frankfort, and of thewar in the lowlands concerning which they had heard vaguely. Rudd hadbeen to Frankfort once and felt himself a traveler and man of the world.He and his wife knew Jarvis and Ike well, and they glanced rathercuriously at Harry.
"He's goin' across the mountains an' down into Virginia on some businessof his own which I ain't inquired into much," said Jarvis.
Harry slept in a house that night for the first time in days, and he didnot like it. He awoke once with a feeling as if walls were pressingdown upon him, and he could not breathe. He arose, opened the door,and stood by it for a few minutes, while the fresh air poured in.Jarvis awoke and chuckled.
"I know what's the matter with you, Harry," he said. "After you'velived out of doors a long time you feel penned up in houses. If itwasn't for rain an' snow I'd do without roofs 'cept in winter. Leavethe door wide open, an' we'll both sleep better. Nothin', of course,would wake that lunkhead, Ike, my nephew. I guess you might fight thewhole of Buena Vista right over his head, an' if it was his sleepin'time he'd sleep right on."
They left the next morning, taking with them all of Harry's baggage.Jarvis' boat would remain in the creek at this point, and he and Ikewould return in due time for their own possessions. They followed afootpath now, but the walk was nothing to them. It was in truth arelief after so much traveling in the boat.
"My legs are long an' they need straightenin'," said Jarvis. "The tenmiles before us will jest about take out the kinks."
Jarvis was a bachelor, his house being kept by his widowed sister,Ike's mother, and old Aunt Suse. Now, as they swung along in Indianfile at a swift and easy gait, his joyous spirits bubbled forth anew.Lifting up his voice he sang with such tremendous volume that everypeak and ridge gave back an individual echo:
"I live for the good of my nation, And my suns are all growing low,
But I hope that the next generation Will resemble old Rosin, the beau.
"I've traveled this country all o'er, And now to the next I will go, For I know that good quarters await me To welcome old Rosin, the beau."
"I suppose you don't know how you got that song, either," said Harry.
"No, it just wandered in an' I've picked it up in parts, here an' thar.See that clump o' laurel 'cross the valley thar, Harry? I killed ablack bear in it once, the biggest seen in these parts in our times,an' I kin point you at least five spots in which I've killed deer.You kin trap lots of small game all through here in the winter, an' thefurs bring good prices. Oh, the mountains ain't so bad. Look! See thesmoke over that low ridge, the thin black line ag'in the sky. It comesfrom the house o' Samuel Jarvis, Esquire, an' it ain't no bad place,either, a double log house, with a downstairs an' upstairs, an' a framekitchen behin'. It's fine to see it ag'in, ain't it, Ike?"
Ike smiled and nodded.
In another half hour they crossed the low ridge and swung down into abeautiful little valley, a mile long and a quarter of a mile broad thatopened out before them. The smoke still rose from the house, which theynow saw clearly, standing among its trees. A brook glinting with goldin the sunshine flowed down the middle of the valley. A lusciousgreenness covered the whole valley floor. No snugger nook could befound in the mountains.
"As fine as pie!" exclaimed Jarvis exultantly. "Everythin's straightan' right. Ike, I think I see Jane, your mother, standin' in the porch.I'll just give her a signal."
He lifted up his voice and sang "Home, Sweet Home," with tremendousvolume. He was heard, as Harry saw a sunbonnet waved vigorously onthe porch. The travelers descended rapidly, crossed the brook, andapproached the house. A strong woman of middle years shouted joyouslyand came forward to meet them, leaving a little weazened figure crouchedin a chair on the porch.
Mrs. Simmons embraced her brother and son with enthusiasm, and gave ahearty welcome to Harry, whom Jarvis introduced in the most glowingwords. Then the three walked to the porch and the bent little figure inthe chair. As they went up the steps together old Aunt Suse suddenlystraightened up and stood erect. A pair of extraordinary black eyeswere blazing from her ancient, wrinkled face. Her hand rose in a kindof military salute, and looking straight at Harry she exclaimed in ahigh-pitched but strong voice:
"Welcome, welcome, governor, to our house! It is a long time since I'veseen you, but I knew that you would come again!"
"Why, what's the matter, Aunt Suse?" asked Jarvis anxiously.
"It is he! The governor! Governor Ware!" she exclaimed. "He, who wasthe great defender of the frontier against the Indians! But he lookslike a boy again! Yet I would have known him anywhere!"
The blazing eyes and tense voice of the old woman held Harry. Shepointed with a withered forefinger which she held aloft and he felt asif an electric current were passing from it to him. A chill ran downhis back and the hair lifted a little on his head. Jarvis and hisnephew stood staring.
"Walk in, governor," she said. "This house is honored by your coming."
Then, and all in a flash, Harry understood. The mind of the old womandreaming in the sun had returned to the far past, and she was seeingagain with the eyes of her girlhood.
"I'm not Henry Ware, Aunt Susan," he said, "but I'm proud to say thatI'm his great-grandson. My name is Kenton, Harry Kenton."
The wrinkled forefinger sank, but the light in her eyes did not die.
"Henry Ware, Harry Kenton!" she murmured. "The same blood, and thespirit is the same. It does not matter. Come into our house and restafter your long journey."
Still erect, she stood on one side and pointed to the open door.Jarvis laughed, but it was a laugh of relief rather than amusement.
"She shorely took you, Harry, for your great-grandfather, Henry Ware,the mighty woodsman and Injun fighter that later on became governorof the state. I guess you look as he did when he was near your age.I've heard her tell tales about him by the mile. Aunt Suse, you know,is more'n a hundred, an' she's got the double gift o' lookin' forrardan' back'ard. Come on in, Harry, this house will belong to you now,an' ef at times she thinks you're the great governor, or the boy thatGovernor Ware was before he was governor, jest let her think it."
With the wrinkled forefinger still pointing a welcome toward the opendoor Harry went into the house. He spent two days in the hospitablehome of Samuel Jarvis. He would have limited the time to a single day,because Richmond was calling to him very strongly now, but it wasnecessary to buy a good horse for the journey by land, and Jarvis wouldnot let him start until he had the pick of the region.
The first evening after their arrival they sat on the porch of themountain home. Ike's mother was with them, but old Aunt Suse hadalready gone to bed. Throughout the day she had called Harry sometimesby his own name and sometimes "governor," and she had shown a wonderfulpride whenever he ran to help her, as he often did.
The twilight was gone some time. The bright stars had sprung out ingroups, and a noble moon was shining. A fine, misty, silver light,like gauze, hung over the valley, tinting the high green heads of thenear and friendly mountains, and giving a wonderful look of softness andfreshness to this safe nook among the peaks and ridges. Harry did notwonder that Jarvis and Ike loved it.
"Aunt Suse give me a big turn when she took you fur the governor,"said Jarvis to Harry, "but it ain't so wonderful after all. Often shesees the things of them early times a heap brighter an' clearer than shesees the things of today. As I told you, she knowed Boone an' Kentonan' Logan an' Henry Ware an' all them gran' hunters an' fighters.She was in Lexin'ton nigh on to eighty years ago, when she saw Dan'lBoone an' the rest that lived through our awful defeat at the Blue Lickscome back. It was not long after that her fam'ly came back into themountains. Her dad 'lowed that people would soon be too thick 'roun'him down in that fine country, but they'd never crowd nobody up here an'they ain't done it neither."
"Did you ever hear her tell of Henry Ware's great friend, Paul Cotter?"asked Harry.
"Shorely; lots of times. She knowed Paul Cotter well. He wuzn't astall an' strong as Henry Ware, but he was great in his way, too.It was him that started the big university at Lexin'ton, an' that becomethe greatest scholar this state ever knowed. I've heard that he learnedto speak eight languages. Do you reckon it was true, Harry? Do youreckon that any man that ever lived could talk eight different ways?"
"It was certainly true. The great Dr. Cotter--and 'Dr.' in his casedidn't mean a physician, it meant an M. A. and a Ph. D. and all sorts oflearned things--could not only speak eight languages, but he knew alsoso many other things that I've heard he could forget more in a day andnot miss it than the ordinary man would learn in a lifetime."
Jarvis whistled.
"He wuz shorely a big scholar," he said, "but it agrees exactly withwhat old Aunt Suse says. Paul Cotter was always huntin' fur books,an' books wuz mighty sca'ce in the Kentucky woods then."
"Henry Ware and Paul Cotter always lived near each other," resumed Harry,"and in two cases their grandchildren intermarried. A boy of my own agenamed Dick Mason, who is the great-grandson of Paul Cotter, is also myfirst cousin."
"Now that's interestin' an' me bein' of an inquirin' min', I'd like toask you where this Dick Mason is."
Harry waved his hand toward the north.
"Up there somewhere," he said.
"You mean that he's gone with the North, took one side while you've tookthe other?"
"Yes, that's it. We couldn't see alike, but we think as much as ever ofeach other. I met him in Frankfort, where he had come from the Northerncamp in Garrard County, but I think he left for the East before I did.The Northern forces hold the railways leading out of Kentucky and he'sprobably in Washington now."
Jarvis lighted his pipe and puffed a while in silence. At length hedrew the stem from his mouth, blew a ring of smoke upward and said in atone of conviction:
"It does beat the D
utch how things come about!"
Harry looked questioningly at him.
"I mean your arrivin' here, bein' who you are, an' your meetin' old AuntSuse, bein' who she is, an' that cousin of yours, Dick Mason, didn't yousay was his name, bein' who he is, goin' off to the North."
They sat on the porch later than the custom of the mountaineers, and thebeauty of the place deepened. The moon poured a vast flood of misty,silver light over the little valley, hemmed in by its high mountains,and Harry was so affected by the silence and peace that he had nofeeling of anger toward anybody, not even toward Bill Skelly, who hadtried to kill him.
The Guns of Bull Run: A Story of the Civil War's Eve Page 11