Ralph Continues His Journey.
The form at Ralph's bedside grasped his hand again in a warning
pressure.
"Keep quiet," it said. "I'm your Aunt Tildy. I have something to say
to you by and by."
The figure vanished, and presently the lad heard his aunt say:
"What are you fussin' about, Mr. Dopples? Can't a body stir 'thout you
havin' a fit?"
"I only wanted to know where ye were," was the shock headed man's
reply. "What are ye progin' round this time o' night for?"
"Cause I want to. Now shet up and go to sleep."
While Ralph was wondering what on earth his aunt, whom he had never
seen before, could want to say to him at such an hour, the talking in
the other room died away, and was succeeded soon by a resonant snoring,
that denoted Mr. Dopples' prompt obedience to his wife's last command.
Shortly thereafter she swept softly into the boy's room, wrapped in a
shawl and seated herself at his side.
"Are you awake?" she said in a whisper.
Ralph said, "Yes;" and propped himself in a listening attitude.
"You think strange, I reckon, at my comin' to you in this way," she
began. "You've never seen and hardly ever heard of us before. But
when I learned the way your grandpap have treated you, I felt sorry,
and I want to help you what little I can."
"I'm mightily obliged, aunt," replied Ralph, still puzzled how to
connect this friendly wish with the object of such a visit as she was
making tonight.
"Hit was a brother of mine as fought that fight with John Vaughn. I
used to believe in the feud, but I don't now. It's a wicked thing to
seek people's lives. Both sides have suffered enough, Ralph, and I say
let there be peace."
"Amen," muttered the lad heartily.
"But what I wanted to let you know was about this Captain Shard, as
Dopples wants you to go and see. My man never quarrels with
nobody--bless his old soul! Therefore, he never 'spicious that any of
his friends would want to, either. There's where he is wrong."
"Yes; but I don't see how that can apply to Captain Shard, whom I never
heard of before."
"I know you don't, but I do. Captain Shard's mother was a Vaughn.
Now, do you see?"
"Good gracious! But it seems to me as if that don't amount to much.
Why should this man want to hurt me?"
"Hold on. This man Shard's mother was sister to the Vaughn who killed
your father, and whom my brother had fought on account of it. Don't
you see? When Shard learns who you are, his Vaughn blood is more than
apt to prompt him to do you some harm."
"They don't shoot people in the town the way we do in the mountains,
aunt. I've read that the law is too strong for that."
"There's other ways of hurtin' a poor boy 'sides takin' a gun to him.
If he chose, he might harm you in other ways. I've heard it said that
folks with plenty of money can do 'most anything in the city."
"Well, aunt, I'm much obliged to you for letting me know. If I strike
Columbia, and meet up with Captain Shard, I shall certainly remember
what you say."
"Good night, then. Don't tell Dopples what I've said. He's a thinkin'
the world of Shard. I like him, too; but then he don't know I'm a
Granger, I reckon."
After Mrs. Dopples retired, Ralph soon fell asleep. When he wakened
again daylight was at hand, and Mr. Dopples was kindling a fire.
Breakfast came early, then Ralph bade his kindly friends farewell, and
resumed his journey as the sun was peeping over the easterly summits of
the Blue Ridge.
"Don't forget to see Shard," called the shock headed man, as the boy
reached the public road. "He'll help you out."
"I may see Shard," thought Ralph; "but I'll be careful how he sees me.
I'm going to get out of the range of this feud if I have to travel
clear to the seacoast."
As he had a lunch along--given him by Mrs. Dopples--he did not stop
anywhere for dinner, but trudged resolutely on at a three mile an hour
gait.
His young limbs, hardened by constant mountain climbing, did not tire
readily, while his experience of traveling enabled him to keep the
general course he wished to go, notwithstanding the branch trails and
the many windings caused by the ruggedness of the country.
The latter portion of the afternoon was occupied in climbing a long
mountain range that overtopped most of the others in sight. The sun
was nearly setting as he reached the summit; then he uttered an
exclamation of astonishment.
Behind him was a confused jumble of peaks and ridges as far as the eye
could reach. It was the region he had left--his own native wilds.
Before him stretched an undulating panorama of plain, valley, and
gentle hills. There were patches of woodland, great plantations with
here and there variegated spots that Ralph supposed to be villages.
It was his first view of the level country beyond the Blue Ridge, and
he surveyed it with intense interest.
"They say it stretches that way clear to the seacoast," he said to
himself as he began to descend the mountain. "I don't see how they can
see any distance with no big ridges to look off from."
This idea--otherwise laughable--was perfectly natural to a lad who had
never seen anything but wild and rugged mountains in his life.
He quickened his pace, wishing to get down into the region of farms and
houses before darkness should come. A rising cloud in the southeast
also occasioned him some concern.
"Looks mighty like there might be rain in that cloud," he thought.
"I've got matches, but I'd hate to have to spend a wet night out in
these woods."
The gun went down and the black south-easterly haze came up, with
semi-tropical celerity. Ralph was still in the lonely region of forest
and crag, when a whirl of wind struck him in the face and a few drops
spattered on the leaves of the chestnuts around.
The brief southern twilight was blotted out almost at once by the
overspreading clouds, and young Granger became conscious that he had
somehow missed the trail.
"That is odd," he muttered. "It was just here a minute ago."
Something like a yellow gleam caught his eye, and he plunged along in
its course in a reckless manner, for he was nervous with anxiety.
Being in a strange region, with a storm on the point of breaking, was
not pleasant even to older nerves, when added to the natural terrors of
a night in the woods, without any other company than one's brooding
thoughts.
"Hello! What's this?" he exclaimed as he almost ran against an
obstruction that looked not unlike a steep house roof.
The odor of tar and resin pervaded the air. Ralph groped his way
around it, feeling here and there with his hands.
"It's a tar kiln, sure as preaching!" ejaculated he, at length. "There
ought to be some kind of a shack about, looks like."
He was still searching, when the wind, which had been increasing,
brought with it a sudden downpour of rain. Ralph was about to rush for
a tree to shelter himself, when a flash of lightning lighted up the
kiln and surrounding objects with a pale, brief glare.
"Ha--there she is!" exclaimed Ralph, discovering the object of his
search. "I almost knew the man as put up this kiln must have had a
shelter of some kind."
He made his way to a low, brush covered frame near by, arriving there
just in time. The darkness was intense, except when cloven by the
lightning, while the fall of rain was drenching and furious.
The shack leaked some, but it was an immense improvement over a tree
for shelter.
"Let's see where we are, anyhow," said Ralph, producing some matches,
one of which he struck. "Hello! There are some pine knots. Here's
luck at last."
In a few minutes he had a small fire blazing brightly, and felt more
like contemplating his surroundings with cheerful equanimity.
But as the rain increased, the leaks grew in number, threatening to put
out the fire, and converting the earth floor into a mushy mud puddle.
"I can't do any sleeping here," thought he. "Might just as well make
up my mind for a night of it round this fire."
By dint of careful watching he kept his fire from going entirely out,
and managed to keep himself dry by picking out the spots where the
leaks were fewest in which to stand.
But it was a dreary, lonesome time. The wind whistled dolefully
through the pines, and the rain splashed unmercifully upon the bark and
boughs of the shack.
After each flash of lightning, sharp peals of thunder added their harsh
echoes, until Ralph's ears ached, used as he was to mountain storms.
The rain began to slacken in an hour, while the wind gradually dwindled
to a light breeze.
Still there was no chance to lie down, and the boy was growing sleepy.
He had drooped his head between his knees as he sat on a pine block,
and was dropping into a doze when he heard something stirring at the
back of the shanty. He looked around in a drowsy way, but seeing
nothing, he again fell into an uneasy slumber.
How long his nap lasted he did not know, but all at once he nodded
violently and awoke. The fire was low. Then a muffled rattling noise
at his feet sent the blood in a furious leap to his pulses.
He threw on a rich knot, and as it blazed up his eye fell on an object
that caused him to spring up as if he had been stung.
"Great Caesar!" he exclaimed, and as the rattle sounded once more, he
made a long leap for the doorway. "That was a narrow escape. S'pose I
hadn't a woke up?"
Then he shuddered, but recovering, hunted up a cudgel and cautiously
returned within the hut.
There, within a few inches of where the lad's feet had rested as he
slept, was a large rattlesnake still in its coil and giving forth its
ominous rattle. A dexterous blow or two finished the reptile, but the
odor given forth by the creature in its anger filled the hut.
"Pah!" ejaculated Ralph. "I must get out of here. The place would
sicken a dog."
He returned to the open air, now freshened by the vanished rain, and
round to his delight, that a moon several days old was visible in the
west. The clouds had disappeared, and there seemed every prospect of a
clear and quiet night.
"It is light enough to see to travel if I can only find the road
again," he reflected. "Anything is better than staying here."
Taking the direction in which it seemed to him that the trail ought to
be, he sought eagerly for the narrow strip of white that would indicate
the wished for goal. Presently he heard a distant sound.
"It may be the deer a whistling," thought he, listening intently.
"But, no; that ain't made by no deer. I believe--it's--somebody a
coming along."
Some distance to his left Ralph could now detect a connected sound as
if a tune were being whistled. In his eager desire for human
companionship, he cast prudence completely aside and ran forward
shouting:
"Hold on! I'm coming. Hold on till I get there!"