As we passed up the street, I was conscious of being the subject of
Swampville speculation. Staring faces at the windows, and gaping groups
around the doors, proved by their looks and gestures, that I was
regarded as a rare spectacle. It could scarcely be my companion who was
the object of this universal curiosity. A buckskin hunting-shirt was an
everyday sight in Swampville--not so a well-mounted _military_ man,
armed, uniformed, and equipped. No doubt, my splendid Arab,
_caracoling_ as if he had not been out of the stable for a week, came in
for a large share of the admiration.
We were soon beyond its reach. Five minutes sufficed to carry us out of
sight of the Swampvillians: for, in that short space of time, we had
cleared the suburbs of the "city," and were riding under the shadows of
an unbroken forest. Its cold gloom gave instantaneous relief--shading
us at one and the same time from the fiery sun, and the glances of
vulgar observation through which we had run the gauntlet. I at least
enjoyed the change; and for some minutes we rode silently on, my guide
keeping in advance of me.
This mode of progression was not voluntary, but a necessity, arising
from the nature of the road--which was a mere "trace" or bridle-path
"_blazed_" across the forest. No wheel had ever made its track in the
soft deep mud--into which, at every step, our steeds sank far above the
fetlocks--and, as there was not room for two riders abreast, I followed
the injunction of my companion by keeping my horse's head "at the tail
o' his'n." In this fashion we progressed for a mile or more, through a
tract of what is termed "bottom-timber"--a forest of those gigantic
water-loving trees--the sycamore and cotton-wood. Their tall grey
trunks rose along the path, standing thickly on each side, and sometimes
in regular rows, like the columns of a grand temple. I felt a secret
satisfaction in gazing upon these colossal forms: for my heart hailed
them as the companions of my future solitude. At the same time I could
not help the reflection, that, if my new estate was thus heavily
encumbered, the clearing of the squatter was not likely to be extended
beyond whatever limits the axe of Mr Holt had already assigned to it.
A little further on, the path began to ascend. We had passed out of the
bottom-lands, and were crossing a ridge, which forms the _divide_
between Mud Creek and the Obion River. The soil was now a dry gravel,
with less signs of fertility, and covered with a pine-forest. The trees
were of slender growth; and at intervals their trunks stood far apart,
giving us an opportunity to ride side by side. This was exactly what I
wanted: as I was longing for a conversation with my new acquaintance.
Up to this time, he had observed a profound silence; but for all that, I
fancied he was not disinclined to a little _causerie_. His reserve
seemed to spring from a sense of modest delicacy--as if he did not
desire to take the initiative. I relieved him from this embarrassment,
by opening the dialogue:--"What sort of a gentleman is this Mr Holt?"
"Gentleman!"
"Yes--what sort of _person_ is he?"
"Oh, what sort o' person. Well, stranger, he's what we, in these parts,
call a rough customer."
"Indeed?"
"Rayther, I shed say."
"Is he what you call a poor man?"
"All that I reckon. He hain't got nothin', as I knows on, 'ceptin' his
old critter o' a hoss, an' his clarin' o' a couple o' acres or
thereabout; besides, he only _squats_ upon that."
"He's only a squatter, then?"
"That's all, stranger; tho' I reckon he considers the clarin' as much
his own as I do my bit o' ground, that's been bought an' paid for."
"Indeed?"
"Yes--I shedn't like to be the party that would buy it over his head."
The speaker accompanied these words with a significant glance, which
seemed to say, "I wonder if that's _his_ business here."
"Has he any family?"
"Thar's one--a young critter o' a girl."
"That all?" I asked--seeing that my companion hesitated, as if he had
something more to say, but was backward about declaring it.
"No, stranger--thar war another girl--older than this 'un."
"And she?"
"She--she's gone away."
"Married, I suppose?"
"That's what nobody 'bout here can tell nor whar she's gone, neyther."
The tone in which the young fellow spoke had suddenly altered from gay
to grave; and, by a glimpse of the moonlight, I could perceive that his
countenance was shadowed and sombre. I could have but little doubt as
to the cause of this transformation. It was to be found in the subject
of our conversation--the absent daughter of the squatter. From motives
of delicacy I refrained from pushing my inquiries farther; but, indeed,
I should have been otherwise prevented from doing so: for, just at that
moment, the road once more narrowed, and we were forced apart. By the
eager urging of his horse into the dark path, I could perceive that the
hunter was desirous of terminating a dialogue--to him, in all
probability, suggestive of bitter memories.
For another half hour we rode on in silence--my companion apparently
buried in a reverie of thought--myself speculating on the chances of an
unpleasant encounter: which, from the hints I had just had, was now
rather certain than probable. Instead of a welcome from the squatter,
and a bed in the corner of his cabin, I had before my mind the prospect
of a wordy war; and, perhaps afterwards, of spending my night in the
woods. Once or twice, I was on the point of proclaiming my errand, and
asking the young hunter for advice as how I should act; but as I had not
yet ascertained whether he was friend or foe of my future hypothetical
antagonist, I thought it more prudent to keep my secret to myself.
His voice again fell upon my ear--this time in a more cheerful tone. It
was simply to say, that I "might shortly expect a better road--we were
approaching a `gleed;' beyont that the trace war wider, an' we might
ride thegither again."
We were just entering the glade, as he finished speaking--an opening in
the woods of limited extent. The contrast between it and the dark
forest-path we had traversed was striking--as the change itself was
pleasant. It was like emerging suddenly from darkness into daylight:
for the full moon, now soaring high above the spray of the forest,
filled the glade with the ample effulgence of her light. The
dew-besprinkled flowers were sparkling like gems; and, even though it
was night, their exquisite aroma had reached us afar off in the forest.
There was not a breath of air stirring; and the unruffled leaves
presented the sheen of shining metal. Under the clear moonlight, I
could distinguish the varied hues of the frondage--that of the red maple
from the scarlet sumacs and sassafras laurels; and these again, from the
dark-green of the Carolina bay-trees, and the silvery foliage of the
_Magnolia glauca_.
Even before entering the glade, this magnificent panorama had burst upon
my sight--from a little embayment that formed the _debouchure_ of the
path--and I had drawn bridle, in order for a moment to enjoy its
contemplation. The young hunter was still the length of his horse in
advance of me; and I was about requesting him to pull up; but before I
could give utterance to the words, I saw him make halt of himself.
This, however, was done in so awkward and hurried a manner, that I at
once turned from gazing upon the scene, and fixed my eyes upon my
companion. As if by an involuntary effort, he had drawn his horse
almost upon his haunches: and was now stiffly seated in the saddle, with
blanched cheeks and eyes sparkling in their sockets--as if some object
of terror was before him! I did not ask for an explanation. I knew
that the object that so strangely affected him must be visible--though
not from the point where I had halted.
A touch of the spur brought my horse alongside his, and gave me a view
of the whole surface of the glade. I looked in the direction indicated
by the attitude of the hunter: for--apparently paralysed by some
terrible surprise--he had neither pointed nor spoken.
A little to the right of the path, I beheld a white object lying along
the ground--a dead tree, whose barkless trunk and smooth naked branches
gleamed under the moonlight with the whiteness of a blanched skeleton.
In front of this, and a pace or two from it, was a dark form, upright
and human-like. Favoured by the clear light of the moon, I had no
difficulty in distinguishing the form to be that of a woman.