The Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come

by John Fox

  CHAPTER 2

  FIGHTING THEIR WAY

  Twice, during the night, Jack roused him by trying to push himselffarther under the blanket and Chad rose to rebuild the fire. The thirdtime he was awakened by the subtle prescience of dawn and his eyesopened on a flaming radiance in the east. Again from habit he startedto spring hurriedly to his feet and, again sharply conscious, he laydown again. There was no wood to cut, no fire to rekindle, no water tocarry from the spring, no cow to milk, no corn to hoe; there wasnothing to do--nothing. Morning after morning, with a day's hard toilat a man's task before him, what would he not have given, when old Jimcalled him, to have stretched his aching little legs down the folds ofthe thick feather-bed and slipped back into the delicious rest of sleepand dreams? Now he was his own master and, with a happy sense offreedom, he brushed the dew from his face and, shifting the chunk underhis head, pulled his old cap down a little more on one side and closedhis eyes. But sleep would not come and Chad had his first wonder overthe perverse result of the full choice to do, or not to do. At once,the first keen savor of freedom grew less sweet to his nostrils and,straightway, he began to feel the first pressure of the chain of dutiesthat was to be forged for him out of his perfect liberty, link by link,and he lay vaguely wondering.

  Meanwhile, the lake of dull red behind the jagged lines of rose andcrimson that streaked the east began to glow and look angry. A sheen offiery vapor shot upward and spread swiftly over the miracle of mistthat had been wrought in the night. An ocean of it and, white and thickas snowdust, it filled valley, chasm, and ravine with mystery andsilence up to the dark jutting points and dark waving lines of rangeafter range that looked like breakers, surged up by some strange newlaw from an under-sea of foam; motionless, it swept down the valleys,poured swift torrents through high gaps in the hills and one longnoiseless cataract over a lesser range--all silent, all motionless,like a great white sea stilled in the fury of a storm. Morning aftermorning, the boy had looked upon just such glory, calmly watching themist part, like the waters, for the land, and the day break, with onephrase, "Let there be light," ever in his mind--for Chad knew hisBible. And, most often, in soft splendor, trailing cloud-mist, andyellow light leaping from crest to crest, and in the singing of birdsand the shining of leaves and dew--there was light.

  But that morning there was a hush in the woods that Chad understood. Ona sudden, a light wind scurried through the trees and showered themistdrops down. The smoke from his fire shot through the lowundergrowth, without rising, and the starting mists seemed to clutchwith long, white fingers at the tree-tops, as though loath to leave thesafe, warm earth for the upper air. A little later, he felt some greatshadow behind him, and he turned his face to see black cloudsmarshalling on either flank of the heavens and fitting their blackwings together, as though the retreating forces of the night weregathering for a last sweep against the east. A sword flashed blindinglyfrom the dome high above them and, after it, came one shaking peal thatmight have been the command to charge, for Chad saw the black hostsstart fiercely. Afar off, the wind was coming; the trees began to swayabove him, and the level sea of mist below began to swell, and thewooded breakers seemed to pitch angrily.

  Challenging tongues ran quivering up the east, and the lake of redcoals under them began to heave fiercely in answer. On either side thelightning leaped upward and forward, striking straight and low,sometimes, as though it were ripping up the horizon to let into theconflict the host of dropping stars. Then the artillery of the thundercrashed in earnest through the shaking heavens, and the mists belowpitched like smoke belched from gigantic unseen cannon. The coming sunanswered with upleaping swords of fire and, as the black thunder hostsswept overhead, Chad saw, for one moment, the whole east in a writhingstorm of fire. A thick darkness rose from the first crash of battleand, with the rush of wind and rain, the mighty conflict went on unseen.

  Chad had seen other storms at sunrise, but something happened now andhe could never recall the others nor ever forget this. All it meant tohim, young as he was then, was unrolled slowly as the years cameon--more than the first great rebellion of the powers of darkness when,in the beginning, the Master gave the first command that the sevendays' work of His hand should float through space, smitten with thewelcoming rays of a million suns; more than the beginning thus oflight--of life; more even than the first birth of a spirit in a livingthing: for, long afterward, he knew that it meant the dawn of a newconsciousness to him--the birth of a new spirit within him, and theforeshadowed pain of its slow mastery over his passion-racked body andheart. Never was there a crisis, bodily or spiritual, on thebattle-field or alone under the stars, that this storm did not comeback to him. And, always, through all doubt, and, indeed, in the endwhen it came to him for the last time on his bed of death, the slow andsullen dispersion of wind and rain on the mountain that morning far,far back in his memory, and the quick coming of the Sun-king'svictorious light over the glad hills and trees held out to him thepromise of a final victory to the Sun-king's King over the darkness ofall death and the final coming to his own brave spirit of peace andrest.

  So Chad, with Jack drawn close to him, lay back, awe-stricken and withhis face wet from mysterious tears. The comfort of the childishself-pity that came with every thought of himself, wandering, a lostspirit along the mountain-tops, was gone like a dream and ready in hisheart was the strong new purpose to strike into the world for himself.He even took it as a good omen, when he rose, to find his firequenched, the stopper of his powder-horn out, and the precious blackgrains scattered hopelessly on the wet earth. There were barely morethan three charges left, and something had to be done at once. First,he must get farther away from old Nathan: the neighbors might searchfor him and find him and take him back.

  So he started out, brisk and shivering, along the ridge path with Jackbouncing before him. An hour later, he came upon a hollow tree, filledwith doty wood which he could tear out with his hands and he built afire and broiled a little more bacon.

  Jack got only a bit this time and barked reproachfully for more; butChad shook his head and the dog started out, with both eyes open, tolook for his own food. The sun was high enough now to make the drenchedworld flash like an emerald and its warmth felt good, as Chad trampedthe topmost edge of Pine Mountain, where the brush was not thick andwhere, indeed, he often found a path running a short way and turninginto some ravine--the trail of cattle and sheep and the pathway betweenone little valley settlement and another. He must have made ten milesand more by noon--for he was a sturdy walker and as tireless almost asJack--and ten miles is a long way in the mountains, even now. So,already, Chad was far enough away to have no fear of pursuit, even ifold Nathan wanted him back, which was doubtful. On the top of the nextpoint, Jack treed a squirrel and Chad took a rest and brought him down,shot through the head and, then and there, skinned and cooked him anddivided with Jack squarely.

  "Jack," he said, as he reloaded his gun, "we can't keep this up muchlonger. I hain't got more'n two more loads o' powder here."

  And, thereupon, Jack leaped suddenly in the air and, turning quitearound, lighted with his nose pointed, as it was before he sprang. Chadcocked the old gun and stepped forward. A low hissing whir rose a fewfeet to one side of the path and, very carefully, the boy climbed afallen trunk and edged his way, very carefully, toward the sound: andthere, by a dead limb and with his ugly head reared three inches abovehis coil of springs, was a rattlesnake. The sudden hate in the boy'sface was curious--it was instinctive, primitive, deadly. He must shootoff-hand now and he looked down the long barrel, shaded with tin, untilthe sight caught on one of the beady, unblinking eyes and pulled thetrigger. Jack leaped with the sound, in spite of Chad's yell ofwarning, which was useless, for the ball had gone true and the poisonwas set loose in the black, crushed head.

  "Jack," said Chad, "we just GOT to go down now."

  So they went on swiftly through the heat of the early afternoon. It wasvery silent up there. Now and then, a brilliant blue-jay would liltfrom a stun
ted oak with the flute-like love-notes of spring; or alonely little brown fellow would hop with a low chirp from one bush toanother as though he had been lost up there for years and had grownquite hopeless about seeing his kind again. When there was a gap in themountains, he could hear the querulous, senseless love-quarrel offlickers going on below him; passing a deep ravine, the note of thewood-thrush--that shy lyrist of the hills--might rise to him from adense covert of maple and beech: or, with a startling call, ared-crested cock of the woods would beat his white-striped wings fromspur to spur, as though he were keeping close to the long swells of anunseen sea. Several times, a pert flicker squatting like a knot to adead limb or the crimson plume of a cock of the woods, as plain as asplash of blood on a wall of vivid green, tempted him to let loose hislast load, but he withstood them. A little later, he saw a freshbear-track near a spring below the head of a ravine; and, later still,he heard the far-away barking of a hound and a deer leaped lightly intoan open sunny spot and stood with uplifted hoof and pointed ears. Thiswas too much and the boy's gun followed his heart to his throat, butthe buck sprang lightly into the bush and vanished noiselessly.

  The sun had dropped midway between the zenith and the blue bulksrolling westward and, at the next gap, a broader path ran through itand down the mountain. This, Chad knew, led to a settlement and, with alast look of choking farewell to his own world, he turned down. Atonce, the sense of possible human companionship was curiously potent:at once, the boy's half-wild manner changed and, though alert and stillwatchful, he whistled cheerily to Jack, threw his gun over hisshoulder, and walked erect and confident. His pace slackened.Carelessly now his feet tramped beds of soft exquisite moss and lonelittle settlements of forget-me-nots, and his long riflebarrel brushedlaurel blossoms down in a shower behind him. Once even, he picked upone of the pretty bells and looked idly at it, turning it bottomupward. The waxen cup might have blossomed from a tiny waxen star.There was a little green star for a calyx; above this, a little whitestar with its prongs outstretched--tiny arms to hold up thepink-flecked chalice for the rain and dew. There came a time when hethought of it as a star-blossom; but now his greedy tongue swept thehoney from it and he dropped it without another thought to the ground.At the first spur down which the road turned, he could see smoke in thevalley. The laurel blooms and rhododendron bells hung in thickerclusters and of a deeper pink. Here and there was a blossoming wildcucumber and an umbrella-tree with huger flowers and leaves; and,sometimes, a giant magnolia with a thick creamy flower that the boycould not have spanned with both hands and big, thin oval leaves, aman's stride from tip to stem. Soon, he was below the sunlight and inthe cool shadows where the water ran noisily and the air hummed withthe wings of bees. On the last spur, he came upon a cow browsing onsassafras-bushes right in the path and the last shadow of hisloneliness straightway left him. She was old, mild, and unfearing, andshe started down the road in front of him as though she thought he hadcome to drive her home, or as though she knew he was homeless and wasleading him to shelter. A little farther on, the river flashed up awelcome to him through the trees and at the edge of the water, hermellow bell led him down stream and he followed. In the next hollow, hestooped to drink from a branch that ran across the road and, when herose to start again, his bare feet stopped as though riven suddenly tothe ground; for, half way up the next low slope, was another figure asmotionless as his--with a bare head, bare feet, a startled face andwide eyes--but motionless only until the eyes met his: then there was aflash of bright hair and scarlet homespun, and the little feet, thathad trod down the centuries to meet his, left the earth as though theyhad wings and Chad saw them, in swift flight, pass silently over thehill. The next moment, Jack came too near the old brindle and, with asweep of her horns at him and a toss of tail and heels in the air, she,too, swept over the slope and on, until the sound of her bell passedout of hearing. Even to-day, in lonely parts of the Cumberland, thesudden coming of a stranger may put women and children toflight--something like this had happened before to Chad--but the suddendesertion and the sudden silence drew him in a flash back to the lonelycabin he had left and the lonely graves under the big poplar and, witha quivering lip, he sat down. Jack, too, dropped to his haunches andsat hopeless, but not for long. The chill of night was coming on andJack was getting hungry. So he rose presently and trotted ahead andsquatted again, looking back and waiting. But still Chad sat irresoluteand in a moment, Jack heard something that disturbed him, for he threwhis ears toward the top of the hill and, with a growl, trotted back toChad and sat close to him, looking up the slope. Chad rose then withhis thumb on the lock of his gun and over the hill came a tall figureand a short one, about Chad's size and a dog, with white feet and whiteface, that was bigger than Jack: and behind them, three more figures,one of which was the tallest of the group. All stopped when they sawChad, who dropped the butt of his gun at once to the ground. At oncethe strange dog, with a low snarl, started down toward the two littlestrangers with his yellow ears pointed, the hair bristling along hisback, and his teeth in sight. Jack answered the challenge with an eagerwhimper, but dropped his tail, at Chad's sharp command--for Chad didnot care to meet the world as an enemy, when he was looking for afriend. The group stood dumb with astonishment for a moment and thesmall boy's mouth was wide-open with surprise, but the strange dog cameon with his tail rigid, and lifting his feet high.

  "Begone!" said Chad, sharply, but the dog would not begone; he stillcame on as though bent on a fight.

  "Call yo' dog off," Chad called aloud. "My dog'll kill him. You bettercall him off," he called again, in some concern, but the tall boy infront laughed scornfully.

  "Let's see him," he said, and the small one laughed, too.

  Chad's eyes flashed--no boy can stand an insult to his dog--and thecurves of his open lips snapped together in a straight red line. "Allright," he said, placidly, and, being tired, he dropped back on a stoneby the wayside to await results. The very tone of his voice struck allshackles of restraint from Jack, who, with a springy trot, went forwardslowly, as though he were making up a definite plan of action; for Jackhad a fighting way of his own, which Chad knew.

  "Sick him, Whizzer!" shouted the tall boy, and the group of fivehurried eagerly down the hill and halted in a half circle about Jackand Chad; so that it looked an uneven conflict, indeed, for the twowaifs from over Pine Mountain.

  The strange dog was game and wasted no time. With a bound he caughtJack by the throat, tossed him several feet away, and sprang for himagain. Jack seemed helpless against such strength and fury, but Chad'sface was as placid as though it had been Jack who was playing thewinning game.

  Jack himself seemed little disturbed; he took his punishment without anoutcry of rage or pain. You would have thought he had quietly come tothe conclusion that all he could hope to do was to stand the strainuntil his opponent had worn himself out. But that was not Jack's game,and Chad knew it. The tall boy was chuckling, and his brother of Chad'sage was bent almost double with delight.

  "Kill my dawg, will he?" he cried, shrilly.

  "Oh, Lawdy!" groaned the tall one.

  Jack was much bitten and chewed by this time, and, while his pluck andpurpose seemed unchanged, Chad had risen to his feet and was beginningto look anxious. The three silent spectators behind pressed forwardand, for the first time, one of these--the tallest of the group--spoke:

  "Take yo' dawg off, Daws Dillon," he said, with quiet authority; butDaws shook his head, and the little brother looked indignant.

  "He said he'd kill him," said Daws, tauntingly.

  "Yo' dawg's bigger and hit ain't fair," said the other again and,seeing Chad's worried look, he pressed suddenly forward; but Chad hadbegun to smile, and was sitting down on his stone again. Jack hadleaped this time, with his first growl during the fight, and Whizzergave a sharp cry of surprise and pain. Jack had caught him by thethroat, close behind the jaws, and the big dog shook and growled andshook again. Sometimes Jack was lifted quite from the ground, but heseemed clamped to his enem
y to stay. Indeed he shut his eyes, finally,and seemed to go quite to sleep. The big dog threshed madly and swungand twisted, howling with increasing pain and terror and increasingweakness, while Jack's face was as peaceful as though he were a puppyonce more and hanging to his mother's neck instead of her breast,asleep. By and by, Whizzer ceased to shake and began to pant; and,thereupon, Jack took his turn at shaking, gently at first, but withmaddening regularity and without at all loosening his hold. The big dogwas too weak to resist soon and, when Jack began to jerk savagely,Whizzer began to gasp.

  "You take YO' dawg off," called Daws, sharply.

  Chad never moved.

  "Will you say 'nough for him?" he asked, quietly; and the tall one ofthe silent three laughed.

  "Call him off, I tell ye," repeated Daws, savagely; but again Chadnever moved, and Daws started for a club. Chad's new friend cameforward.

  "Hol'on, now, hol'on," he said, easily. "None o' that, I reckon."

  Daws stopped with an oath. "Whut you got to do with this, Tom Turner?"

  "You started this fight," said Tom.

  "I don't keer ef I did--take him off," Daws answered, savagely.

  "Will you say 'nough fer him?" said Chad again, and again Tall Tomchuckled. The little brother clinched his fists and turned white withfear for Whizzer and fury for Chad, while Daws looked at the tallTurner, shook his head from side to side, like a balking steer, anddropped his eyes.

  "Y-e-s," he said, sullenly.

  "Say it, then," said Chad, and this time Tall Tom roared aloud, andeven his two silent brothers laughed. Again Daws, with a furious oath,started for the dogs with his club, but Chad's ally stepped between.

  "You say 'nough, Daws Dillon," he said, and Daws looked into the quiethalf-smiling face and at the stalwart two grinning behind.

  "Takin' up agin yo' neighbors fer a wood-colt, air ye?"

  "I'm a-takin' up fer what's right and fair. How do you know he's awood-colt--an' suppose he is? You say 'nough now, or--"

  Again Daws looked at the dogs. Jack had taken a fresh grip and wasshaking savagely and steadily. Whizzer's tongue was out--once histhroat rattled.

  "Nough!" growled Daws, angrily, and the word was hardly jerked from hislips before Chad was on his feet and prying Jack's jaws apart. "Heain't much hurt," he said, looking at the bloody hold which Jack hadclamped on his enemy's throat, "but he'd a-killed him though, he al'aysdoes. Thar ain't no chance fer NO dog, when Jack gits THAT hold."

  Then he raised his eyes and looked into the quivering face of the ownerof the dog--the little fellow--who, with the bellow of a yearling bull,sprang at him. Again Chad's lips took a straight red line and being onone knee was an advantage, for, as he sprang up, he got both underholdsand there was a mighty tussle, the spectators yelling with franticdelight.

  "Trip him, Tad," shouted Daws, fiercely.

  "Stick to him, little un," shouted Tom, and his brothers, stoical Dolphand Rube, danced about madly. Even with underholds, Chad, being muchthe shorter of the two, had no advantage that he did not need, and,with a sharp thud, the two fierce little bodies struck the road side byside, spurting up a cloud of dust.

  "Dawg--fall!" cried Rube, and Dolph rushed forward to pull thecombatants apart.

  "He don't fight fair," said Chad, panting, and rubbing his right eyewhich his enemy had tried to "gouge"; "but lemme at him--I can fightthataway, too." Tall Tom held them apart.

  "You're too little, and he don't fight fair. I reckon you better go onhome--you two--an' yo' mean dawg," he said to Daws; and the twoDillons--the one sullen and the other crying with rage--moved away withWhizzer slinking close to the ground after them. But at the top of thehill both turned with bantering yells, derisive wriggling of theirfingers at their noses, and with other rude gestures. And, thereupon,Dolph and Rube wanted to go after them, but the tall brother stoppedthem with a word.

  "That's about all they're fit fer," he said, contemptuously, and heturned to Chad.

  "Whar you from, little man, an' whar you goin', an' what mought yo'name be?"

  Chad told his name, and where he was from, and stopped.

  "Whar you goin'?" said Tom again, without a word or look of comment.

  Chad knew the disgrace and the suspicion that his answer was likely togenerate, but he looked his questioner in the face fearlessly.

  "I don't know whar I'm goin'."

  The big fellow looked at him keenly, but kindly.

  "You ain't lyin' an' I reckon you better come with us." He turned forthe first time to his brothers and the two nodded.

  "You an' yo' dawg, though Mammy don't like dawgs much; but you air astranger an' you ain't afeerd, an' you can fight--you an' yo' dawg--an'I know Dad'll take ye both in."

  So Chad and Jack followed the long strides of the three Turners overthe hill and to the bend of the river, where were three long canefishing-poles with their butts stuck in the mud--the brothers had beenfishing, when the flying figure of the little girl told them of thecoming of a stranger into those lonely wilds. Taking these up, theystrode on--Chad after them and Jack trotting, in cheerful confidence,behind. It is probable that Jack noticed, as soon as Chad, the swirl ofsmoke rising from a broad ravine that spread into broad fields, skirtedby the great sweep of the river, for he sniffed the air sharply, andtrotted suddenly ahead. It was a cheering sight for Chad. Two negroslaves were coming from work in a corn-field close by, and Jack's hairrose when he saw them, and, with a growl, he slunk behind his master.Dazed, Chad looked at them.

  "Whut've them fellers got on their faces?" he asked. Tom laughed.

  "Hain't you nuver seed a nigger afore?" he asked.

  Chad shook his head.

  "Lots o' folks from yo' side o' the mountains nuver have seed anigger," said Tom. "Sometimes hit skeers 'em."

  "Hit don't skeer me," said Chad.

  At the gate of the barn-yard, in which was a long stable with a deeplysloping roof, stood the old brindle cow, who turned to look at Jack,and, as Chad followed the three brothers through the yard gate, he sawa slim scarlet figure vanish swiftly from the porch into the house.

  In a few minutes, Chad was inside the big log cabin and before a biglog-fire, with Jack between his knees and turning his soft human eyeskeenly from one to another of the group about his little master,telling how the mountain cholera had carried off the man and the womanwho had been father and mother to him, and their children; at which theold mother nodded her head in growing sympathy, for there were twofresh mounds in her own graveyard on the point of a low hill not faraway; how old Nathan Cherry, whom he hated, had wanted to bind him out,and how, rather than have Jack mistreated and himself be ill-used, hehad run away along the mountain-top; how he had slept one night under alog with Jack to keep him warm; how he had eaten sassafras and birchback and had gotten drink from the green water-bulbs of the wildhoneysuckle; and how, on the second day, being hungry, and withoutpowder for his gun, he had started, when the sun sank, for the shadowsof the valley at the mouth of Kingdom Come. Before he was done, the oldmother knocked the ashes from her clay pipe and quietly went into thekitchen, and Jack, for all his good manners, could not restrain a whineof eagerness when he heard the crackle of bacon in a frying-pan and thedelicious smell of it struck his quivering nostrils. After dark, oldJoel, the father of the house, came in--a giant in size and a mightyhunter--and he slapped his big thighs and roared until the raftersseemed to shake when Tall Tom told him about the dog-fight and theboy-fight with the family in the next cove: for already the clanshipwas forming that was to add the last horror to the coming great war andprolong that horror for nearly half a century after its close.

  By and by, the scarlet figure of little Melissa came shyly out of thedark shadows behind and drew shyly closer and closer, until she wascrouched in the chimney corner with her face shaded from the fire byone hand and a tangle of yellow hair, listening and watching him withher big, solemn eyes, quite fearlessly. Already the house was full ofchildren and dependents, but no word passed between old Joel and theold mo
ther, for no word was necessary. Two waifs who had so sufferedand who could so fight could have a home under that roof if theypleased, forever. And Chad's sturdy little body lay deep in afeather-bed, and the friendly shadows from a big fireplace flickeredhardly thrice over him before he was asleep. And Jack, for that nightat least, was allowed to curl up by the covered coals, or stretch outhis tired feet, if he pleased, to a warmth that in all the nights ofhis life, perhaps, he had never known before.