"What did you say his name was?
" Sherd Raines, the feller that's goin' to be our circuit-rider."
He remembered the peculiar name. So this was Easter's lover.
Clayton looked at the young mountaineer, curiously at first, and
then with growing interest. His quiet air of authority among his
fellows was like a birthright; it seemed assumed and accepted
unconsciously. His face was smooth, and he was fuller in figure
than the rest, but still sinewy and lank, though not awkward; his
movements were too quick and decisive for that. With a casual
glance Clayton had wondered what secret influence could have
turned to spiritual things a man so merely animal-like in face and
physique; but when the mountaineer thrust back his hat, elemental
strength and seriousness were apparent in the square brow, the
steady eye, the poise of the head, and in lines around the strong
mouth and chin in which the struggle for self-mastery had been
traced.
As the mountaineer thrust his ramrod back into its casing, he
glanced at the woods behind Clayton, and said something to his
companions. They, too, raised their eyes, and at the same moment
the old mountaineer plucked Clayton by the sleeve.
"Thar comes Easter now."
The girl had just emerged from the edge of the forest, and with a
rifle on one shoulder and a bullet-pouch and powder-horn swung
from the other, was slowly coming down the path.
" Why, how air ye, Easter? " cried the old man, heartily. " Goin' to
shoot, air ye? I 'lowed ye wouldn't miss this. Ye air mighty late,
though."
Oh, I only wanted a turkey," said the girl. "Well, I'm a-comm' up to
eat dinner with ye to-morrer," he answered, with a laugh, " fer
I know ye'll git one. Y'u're on hand fer most o' the matches now.
Wild turkeys must be a-gittin' skeerce."
The girl smiled, showing a row of brilliant teeth between her thin,
red lips, and, without answering, moved toward the group of
mountain women. Clayton had raised his hand to his hat when the
old man addressed her, but he dropped it quickly to his side in no
little embarrassment when the girl carelessly glanced over him
with no sign of recognition. Her rifle was an old flint-lock of light
build, but nearly six feet in length, with a shade of rusty tin two
feet long fastened to the barrel to prevent the sunlight from
affecting the marksman's aim. She wore a man's hat, which, with
unintentional coquetry, was perched on one side of her head. Her
hair was short, and fell as it pleased about her neck. She was
bare-footed, and apparently clad in a single garment, a blue
homespun gown, gathered loosely at her uncorseted waist, and
showing the outline of the bust and every movement of the tall,
supple form beneath. Her appearance had quickened the interest of
the spectators, and apparently was a disturbing influence among
the contestants, who were gathered together, evidently in dispute.
From their glances Clayton saw that Easter was the subject of it.
"I guess they don't want her to shoot-them that hain't won nothin',"
said Uncle Tommy.
She hev come in late," Clayton heard one say, " 'n' she oughtn' to
shoot. Thar hain't no chance shootin' ag'in her noways, 'n' I'm in
favor o' barrin' her out."
Oh no; let her shoot "-the voice was Raines's. "Thar hain't nothin'
but a few turkeys left, 'n' ye'd better bar out the gun 'stid o' the gal,
anyway, fer that gun kin outshoot any-thing in the mountains."
The girl had been silently watching the group as if puzzled; and
when Raines spoke her face tightened with sudden decision, and
she strode swiftly toward them in time to overhear the young
mountaineer's last words.
So hit's the gun, is hit, Sherd Raines?
The crowd turned, and Raines shrank a little as the girl faced him
with flashing eyes. "So hit's the gun, is hit? Hit is a good gun, but
ye ought to be ashamed to take all the credit 'way from me. But ef
you air so sartain hit's the gun," she continued, "I'll shoot yourn, 'n'
y'u kin hev mine ef I don't beat ye with yer own gun."
"Good fer you, Easter!" shouted the old mountaineer.
Raines had recovered himself, and was looking at the girl
seriously. Several of his companions urged him aloud to accept
the challenge, but he paid no heed to them. He seemed to be
debating the question with himself, and a moment later he said,
quietly:
"'N' you kin hev mine ef I don't beat you."
This was all he said, but he kept his eyes fixed on the girl's face;
and when, with a defiant glance, she turned toward the mountain
women, he followed and stopped her.
"Easter," Clayton heard him say, in a low, slow voice, "I was tryin'
to git ye a chance to shoot, fer ye hev been winnin' so much that
it's hard to git up a match when ye air in it." The hard look on the
girl's face remained unchanged, and the mountaineer continued,
firmly:
"'N' I told the truth; fer ef ye pin me down, I do think hit is the
gun."
" Jes you wait 'n' see," answered the girl, shortly, and Raines, after
a questioning look, rejoined the group.
"I won't take the gun ef I win it," he said to them; "but she air
gittin' too set up an' proud, 'n' I'm goin' to do my best to take her
down a bit."
There was nothing boastful or malicious in his manner or speech,
and nobody doubted that he would win, for there were few
marksmen in the mountains his equals, and he would have the
advantage of using his own gun.
"Look hyeh," said a long, thin mountaineer, coming up to the
group, "thar ain't but one turkey left, 'n' I'd like to know what we
air goin' to shoot at ef Sherd 'n' Easter gits a crack at him."
In the interest of the match no one had thought of that, and a
moment of debate followed, which Clayton ended by stepping
forward.
"I'll furnish a turkey for the rest of you," he said.
The girl turned when he spoke and gave him a quick glance, but
averted her eyes instantly.
Clayton's offer was accepted, and the preliminary trial to decide
who should shoot first at the turkey was begun. Every detail was
watched with increasing interest. A piece of white paper marked
with two concentric circles was placed sixty yards away, and
Raines won with a bullet in the inner circle. The girl had missed
both, and the mountaineer offered her two more shots to accustom
herself to the gun. She accepted, and smiled a little triumphantly
as she touched the outer circle with one bullet and placed the other
almost in the centre. It was plain that the two were evenly
matched, and several shouts of approval came from the crowd.
The turkey was hobbled to a stake at the same distance, and both
were to fire at its head, with the privilege of shooting at fifty yards
if no rest were taken.
Raines shot first without rest, and, as he missed, the girl followed
his example. The turkey dozed on in the sunlight, undisturbed by
either. The mountaineer was vexed. With his powerful face set
determinedly, he lay down flat on the ground, and, resting his rifle
over a small log, took an inordinately long and careful aim. The
rifle cracked, the turkey bobbed its head unhurt, and the marksman
sprang to his feet with an exclamation of surprise and chagrin. As
he loaded the gun and gravely handed it to the girl, the excitement
grew intense. The crowd pressed close. The stolid faces of the
mountaineer women, thrust from their bonnets, became almost
eager with interest. Raines, quiet and composed as he was, looked
anxious. All eyes followed every movement of the girl as she
coolly stretched her long, active figure on the ground, drew her
dress close about it, and, throwing her yellow hair over her face to
shade her eyes from the slanting sunlight, placed her cheek against
the stock of the gun. A long suspense followed. A hush almost of
solemnity fell upon the crowd.
"Why don't the gal shoot?" asked a voice, impatiently.
Clayton saw what the matter was, and, stepping toward her, said
quietly, "You forgot to set the trigger."
The girl's face colored. Again her eye glanced along the barrel, a
puff of smoke flew from the gun, and a shout came from every pair
of lips as the turkey leaped into the air and fell, beating the ground
with its wings. In an instant a young mountaineer had rushed
forward and seized it, and, after a glance, dropped it with a yell of
triumph.
"Shot plum' through the eyes!" he shouted. "Shot plum' through the
eyes!
The girl arose, and handed the gun back to Raines.