A Mountain Europa

第1章

TOJAMESLANEALLEN

AsClaytonrosetohisfeetinthestillair，thetree—topsbegantotrembleinthegapbelowhim，andaripplingranthroughtheleavesupthemountain—side。Drawingoffhishathestretchedouthisarmstomeetit，andhiseyesclosedasthecoolwindstruckhisthroatandfaceandliftedthehairfromhisforehead。Abouthimthemountainslaylikeatumultuoussea—theJellicoSpur，stilledgraduallyoneverysideintovague，purpleshapesagainstthebrokenrimofthesky，andPineMountainandtheCumberlandRangeracinginlikebreakersfromthenorth。UnderhimlayJellicoValley，andjustvisibleinawoodedcove，whenceIndianCreekcreptintosight，wasamining—camp—aclusterofwhitecabins—fromwhichhehadclimbedthatafternoon。Atthatdistancethewagon—roadnarrowedtoabridle—path，andthefiguremovingslowlyalongitandenteringtheforestatthebaseofthemountainwasshrunktoatoy。ForamomentClaytonstoodwithhisfacetothewest，drinkingintheair；thentighteninghisbelt，hecaughtthepliantbodyofasaplingandswungloosefromtherock。Asthetreeflewback，hisdogsprangafterhim。Thedescentwassharp。Attimeshewasforcedtoclingtothebirch—topstilltheylayflatonthemountain—side。

Breathless，hereachedatlastabowlderfromwhichthepathwaseasytothevalleybelow，andheleanedquiveringagainstthesoftrugofmossandlichensthatcoveredit。Theshadowshadcreptfromthefootofthemountains，darkeningthevalley，andliftingupthemountain—sidebeneathhimalong，waveringlineinwhichmetthecool，deepgreenoftheshadeandtheshiningbronzewherethesunlightstilllay。Lazilyfollowingthisline，hiseyecaughttwomovingshadowsthatdartedjaggedshapesintothesunlightandasquicklywithdrewthem。Astheroadwounduptowardhim，twofiguresweresoonvisiblethroughtheundergrowth。Presentlyaheadbonnetedinblueroseabovethebushes，andClayton’shalf—shuteyesopenedwideandwerefixedwithalookofamusedexpectancywhereaturnofthepathmustbringriderandbeastintoplainsight。Apparentlysomemountaingirl，weariedbytheclimborinaspiritoffun，hadmountedhercowwhiledrivingithome；

andwithasmileatthethoughtoftheconfusionhewouldcauseher，Claytonsteppedaroundthebowlderandwaited。Withtheslow，easyswingofclimbingcattle，thebeastbroughtitsriderintoview。Abagofmeallayacrossitsshoulders，andbehindthisthegirl—forshewasplainlyyoung—satsidewise，withherbarefeetdanglingagainstitsflank。Herfacewasturnedtowardthevalleybelow，andherloosenedbonnethalfdisclosedaheadofbrightyellowhair。

CatchingsightofClayton，thebeaststoppedandlifteditshead，notthemeek，patientfaceheexpectedtosee，butaheadthatwaswrinkledandvicious—theheadofabull。Onlythesuddenremembranceofadeadmountaincustomsavedhimfromutteramazement。Hehadheardthatwhenbeastsofburdenwerescarce，cows，andespeciallybulls，wereworkedinploughsandriddenbythemountaineers，evenbythewomen。Butthishadbecomeatradition，thehumorofwhichgreaterprosperityandcontactwithanewcivilizationhadtaughteventhemountainpeopletoappreciate。Thenecessitiesofthisgirlwereevidentlyasgreatasherfearofridiculeseemedsmall。Whenthebrutestopped，shebeganstrikinghimintheflankwithherbareheel，withoutlookingaround，andashepaidnoattentiontosuchpainlessgoading，sheturnedwithsuddenimpatienceandliftedaswitchabovehisshoulders。Thestickwasarrestedinmid—airwhenshesawClayton，andthendroppedharmlessly。Thequickfireinhereyesdiedsuddenlyaway，andforamomentthetwolookedateachotherwithmutualcuriosity，butonlyforamoment。TherewassomethinginClayton’sgazethatdispleasedher。Herfaceclouded，andshedroppedhereyes。

"G’long，"shesaid，inalowtone。Butthebullhadloweredhishead，andwasstandingwithfeetplantedapartandtailwavinguneasily。Thegirllookedupinalarm。

"Watchoutthar!"shecalledout，sharply。"Callthatdogoff—

quick!"

Claytonturned，buthisdogsprangpasthimandbegantobark。

Thebull，alean，active，vicious—lookingbrute，answeredwithasnort。

"Callhimoff，Itellye!"criedthegirl，angrily，springingtotheground。"Gitouto’theway。Don’tyouseehe’sa—comm’atye？"

Thedogleapednimblyintothebushes，andthemaddenedbullwascarriedonbyhisownImpetustowardClayton，who，withaquickspring，landedinsafetyinagullybelowtheroad。Whenhepickedhimselfupfromtheunevengroundwherehehadfallen，thebeasthaddisappearedaroundthebowlder。Thebaghadfallen，andhadbrokenopen，andsomeofthemealwasspilledontheground。Thegirl，flushedandangry，stoodaboveit。

"Lookthar，now，"shesaid。"Seewhutyou’vedone。Why’n’tyecallthatdogoff？"

"Icouldn’t，"saidClayton，politely。"Hewouldn’tcome。I’msorry，verysorry。"

"Can’tyemanageyerowndog？"sheasked，halfcontemptuously。

"Notalways。"

"Thenyeoughterleavehimtohome，andnotlethimgorounda—skeerin’folks’beastes。"Withalittlegestureofindignationshestoopedandbeganscoopingupthemealinherhand。

"Letmehelpyou，"saidClayton。Thegirllookedupinsurprise。

Yougo’way，"shesaid。

ButClaytonstayed，watchingherhelplessly。Hewantedtocarrythebagforher，butsheswungittohershoulder，andmovedaway。

Hefollowedheraroundthebowlder，wherehislateenemywasbrowsingpeacefullyonsassafras—bushes。

"Youstaytharnow，"saidthegirl，"andkeepthatdogback。"

"Won’tyouletmehelpyougetup？"heasked。

Withoutanswering，thegirlspranglightlytothebull’sback，Onceonlyshelookedaroundathim。Hetookoffhishat，andapuzzledexpressioncameintoherface。Then，withoutawordoranod，sherodeaway。Claytonwatchedtheoddpairtillthebusheshidthem。

"Europa，byJove!"heexclaimed，andhesatdowninbewilderment。

Shewassoveryoddacreature，sodifferentfromthetimidmountainwomenwhoshrankwithavertedfacesalmostintothebusheswhenhemetthem。Shehadlookedhimstraightinthefacewithsteadyeyes，andhadspokenasthoughherswayovermountainandroadwereundisputedandhehadbeenawretchedtrespasser。Shepaidnoattentiontohisapologies，andshescornedhisoffersofassistance。Sheseemednomoreangeredbythelossofthemealthanbyhisincapacitytomanagehisdog，whichseemedtotypifytoherhisgeneralworthlessness。Hehadbeenbruisedbyhisfall，andshedidnotevenaskifhewerehurt。

Indeed，sheseemednottocare，andshehadriddenawayfromhimasthoughhewereworthnomoreconsiderationthanthestoneunderhim。

Hewasamused，andatrifleirritated。Howcouldtherebesuchacuriousgrowthinthemountains？hequestioned，asheroseandcontinuedthedescent。Therewasanunusualgraceabouther，inspiteofhermasculineair。Herfeatureswereregular，thenosestraightanddelicate，themouthresolute，thebrowbroad，andtheeyesintenselyblue，perhapstender，whennotflashingwithanger，andaltogetherwithoutthelistlessexpressionhehadmarkedinothermountainwomen，andwhich，hehadnoticed，deadenedintopathetichopelessnesslaterinlife。Herfigurewaserect，andhermanner，despiteitsroughness，savoredofsomethinghigh—born。

Wherecouldshehavegotthatbearing？Shebelongedtoaracewhosedescent，hehadheard，wasunmixedEnglish；uponwhoselipslingeredwordsandformsofspeechthatShakespearehadheardandused。Whocouldtellwhatbloodraninherveins？

Musing，hehadcomealmostunconsciouslytoaspurofthemountainsunderwhichlaythelittlemining—camp。Itwassixo’clock，andtheminers，grimandblack，eachwithapailinhandandalittleoil—lampinhiscap，weregoingdownfromwork。A

showerhadpassedoverthemountainsabovehim，andthelastsunlight，comingthroughagapinthewest，strucktherisingmistandturnedittogold。Onarockwhichthrustfromthemountainitsgray，sombreface，halfembracedbyawhitearmofthemist，Claytonsawthefigureofawoman。Hewavedhishat，butthefigurestoodmotionless，andheturnedintothewoodstowardthecamp。

Itwasthegirl；andwhenClaytondisappearedshetooturnedandwentonherway。Shehadstoppedtherebecausesheknewhemustpassapointwhereshemightseehimagain。Shewaslittlelessindifferentthansheseemed；hermotivewaslittlemorethancuriosity。Shehadneverseenthatmannerofmanbefore。

Evidentlyhewasa"furriner"fromthe"settlemints。"Nomaninthemountainshadasmooth，roundfacelikehis，orworesuchaqueerhat，suchasoft，whiteshirt，andnogalluses，"orcarriedsuchashiny，weak—lookingstick，orownedadogthathecouldn’tmakemindhim。Shewasnotwhollycontemptuous，however。Shehadfeltvaguelythemeaningofhispolitenessanddeference。Shewaspuzzledandpleased，shescarcelyknewwhy。

"Hewasmightyaccomodatin’，"shethought。Butwhut，"sheaskedherselfassherodeslowlyhomeward—"whutdidhetakeoffhishatferII

LIGHTStwinkledfromeverycabinasClaytonpassedthroughthecamp。Outsidethekitchendoors，miners，baretothewaist，werebathingtheirblackenedfacesandbodies，withchildren，tatteredandunclean，buthealthful，playingaboutthem；within，womeninloosegowns，withsleevesunrolledandwithdisorderedhair，movedlikephantomsthroughcloudsofsavorysmoke。Thecommissarywasbrilliantlylighted。Atawindowclosebyimprovidentminersweredrawingthewagesoftheday，whiletheirwiveswaitedinthestorewithbasketsunfilled。Infrontofthecommissaryacrowdofnegroesweretalking，laughing，singing，andplayingprankslikechildren。Heretwo，withgrinningfaces，weresquaredoff，nottospar，buttoknockateachother’statteredhat；theretwomore，withlegsandarmsindistinguishable，werewrestling；closebywasthesoundofamouth—harp，acircleofinterestedspectators，and，within，twodancerspittedagainsteachother，andshufflingwithazestthatlaborseemednevertoaffect。

ImmediatelyaftersupperClaytonwenttohisroom，lightedhislamp，andsatdowntoamaphewastracing。Hisroomwasnexttheground，andapathranneartheopenwindow。Asheworked，everypasser—bywouldlookcuriouslywithin。Onthewallabovehisheadapairoffencing—foilswerecrossedundermasks。Belowthesehungtwopistols，suchascourteousClaudeDuvalusedforside—arms。Oppositeweretwooldrifles，andbeneaththemtwostonebeer—mugs，andaGermanstudent’spipeabsurdlylongandrichlyornamented。Amantelclosebywasfilledwithcuriosities，andnearithungabanjounstrung，atennis—racket，andablazerofstartlingcolors。PlainlytheywererelicsofGermanstudentlife，andtheoddcontrasttheymadewiththeroughwallandceilingsuggestedasharpchangeinthefortunesoftheyoungworkerbeneath。ScarcelysixmonthssincehehadbeensuddenlysummonedhomefromGermany。Thereasonwasvague，buthavingreadofrecentAmericanfailures，notablyinWallStreet，heknewwhathadhappened。ReachingNewYork，hewasstartledbythefearthathismotherwasdead，sogloomywasthehouse，sosubduedhissister’sgreeting，andsowornandsadhisfather’sface。

Thetrouble，however，waswhathehadguessed，andhehadaccepteditwithquietresignation。Thefinancialwreckseemedcomplete；butoneresource，however，wasleft。JustafterthewarClayton’sfatherhadpurchasedminerallandsintheSouth，anditwaswiththeideaofdevelopingthesethathehadencouragedthemarkedscientifictastesofhisson，andhadsenthimtoaGermanuniversity。Inviewofhisowndisaster，andthefactthatafinancialtidewasswellingsouthward，hisforethoughtseemedaninspiration。TothisresourceClaytonturnedeagerly；andafterafewweeksathome，whichweremadeintolerablebystraitenedcircumstances，andthefanciedcoldnessoffriendandacquaintance，hewashardatworkintheheartoftheKentuckymountains。

Thetransitionfromthecarelesslifeofastudentwasswiftandbitter；itwaslikebeginninganewlifewithanewidentity，thoughClaytonsufferedlessthanheanticipated。Hehadbecomeinterestedfromthefirst。Therewasnothingintheprettyglen，whenhecame，butamountaineer’scabinandafewgnarledoldapple—trees，therootsofwhichcheckedthemusicalflowofalittlestream。Thentheairwasfilledwiththetenseringofhammerandsaw，themellowechoesofaxes，andtheshoutsofox—driversfromtheforests，indignantgroansfromthemountains，andalittletownsprangupbeforehiseyes，andcarsofshiningcoalwoundslowlyaboutthemountainside。

Activitylikethisstirredhisblood。Busyfromdawntodark，hehadnotimetogrowmiserable。Hisworkwashard，tobesure，butitmaderestandsleepaluxury，andithadthenewzestofindependence；heevenbegantotakeinitnolittlepridewhenhefoundhimselfanessentialpartofthequickgrowthgoingon。

Whenleisurecame，hecouldtaketowoodsfilledwithunknownbirds，newformsofinsectlife，andstrangeplantsandflowers。

Witheveryday，too，hewasmoredeeplystirredbythechangingbeautyofthemountainshiddenatdawnwithwhitemists，faintlyveiledthroughthedaywithanatmospherethatmadehimthinkofItaly，andenrichedbysunsetsofstartlingbeauty。Butstrongestofallwastheinteresthefoundintheoddhumanmixtureabouthim—thesimple，good—natureddarkieswhoslouchedpasthim，magnificentinphysiqueandpicturesquewithrags；occasionalforeignersjustfromCastleGarden，withthehopeoftheNewWorldstillintheirfaces；andnowandthenagauntmountaineerstalkingawkwardlyintherearofthemarchtowardcivilization。

Graduallyithaddawneduponhimthatthislast，silentfigure，tracedthroughVirginia，wascloselylinkedbybloodandspeechwiththecommonpeopleofEngland，and，mouldedperhapsbytheinfluencesoffeudalism，wasstillstrikinglyunchanged；thatnowitwasthemostdistinctivelynationalremnantonAmericansoil，andsymbolizedthedevelopmentofthecontinent，andthatwithitmustgothelastsuggestionsofthepioneers，withtheirhardyphysiques，theirspeech，theirmannersandcustoms，theirsimplearchitectureandsimplemodeoflife。Itwassoonplaintohim，too，thatachangewasbeingwroughtatlast—thechangeofdestruction。Theoldermountaineers，whosebewilderedeyeswatchedthenoisysignsofanunintelligiblecivilization，werepassingaway。Oftherest，some，sullenandrestless，weresellingtheirhomesteadsandfollowingthespiritoftheirforefathersintoanewwilderness；

others，leavingtheirsmallfarmsinadjacentvalleystogotoruin，weregapingidlyaboutthepublicworks，caughtuponlytooeasilybytheviciouscurrentoftheincomingtide。Inacenturythemountaineersmustbesweptaway，andtheirignoranceofthetragicforcesatworkamongthemgavethemanunconsciouspathosthattouchedClaytondeeply。

Ashegrewtoknowthem，theirhistoricalimportanceyieldedtoagenuineinterestinthepeoplethemselves。Theyweredenselyignorant，tobesure；buttheywerenatural，simple，andhospitable。

Theirsenseofpersonalworthwashigh，andtheirdemocracy—oraristocracy，sincetherewasnodistinctionofcaste—absolute。Forgenerations，sonhadlivedlikefatherinanisolationhardlycredible。

Noinfluencesavesuchasshookthenationeverreachedthem。

TheMexicanwar，slavery，andnationalpoliticsofthefirsthalf—centurywerestillpresentissues，andeacholdmanwouldgivehisrigid，individualopinionsometimeswithsurprisinghumorandforce。

Hewentmuchamongthem，andtheruggedoldcoupleswhomhefoundinthecabinporches—somuchalikeatfirst—quicklybecamedistinctwithaquaintindividuality。Amongyoungorold，however，hehadfoundnothinglikethehalf—wildyoungcreaturehehadmetonthemountainthatday。

Inheratypehadcrossedhispath—haddrivenhimfromit，intruth—thatseemeduniqueandinexplicable。Hehadbeenlittlemorethanamusedatfirst，butakeeninteresthadbeengrowinginhimwitheverythoughtofher。

Therewasanindefinablecharmaboutthegirl。Shegaveanewandsuddenzesttohisinterestinmountainlife；andwhileheworked，theincidentsoftheencounteronthemountaincameminutelybacktohimtillhesawheragainassherodeaway，hersupplefigureswayingwitheverymovementofthebeast，anddappledwithquiveringcirclesofsunlightfromthebushes，herfacecalm，butstillflushedwithcolor，andheryellowhairshakingabouthershoulders—notlustrelessandflaxen，ashairwasinthemountains，heremembered，butcatchingthesunlightlikegold。

Almostunconsciouslyhelaidasidehispencilandleanedfromhiswindowtolifthiseyestothedarkmountainhehadclimbedthatday。Therudemelodyofanold—fashionedhymnwascominguptheglen，andherecognizedthethin，quaveringvoiceofanoldmountaineer，UncleTommyBrooks，ashewasfamiliarlyknown，whosecabinstoodinthemidstofthecamp，apatheticcontrasttothesmartnewhousesthathadsprungaroundit。Theoldmanhadlivedintheglenfornearlythree—quartersofacentury，andhe，ifanyone，mustknowthegirl。Withthethought，Claytonsprangthroughthewindow，andafewminuteslaterwasatthecabin。Theoldmansatwhittlingintheporch，joininginthesongwithwhichhiswifewascrooningachildtosleepwithin。ClaytoneasilyidentifiedEuropa，ashehadchristenedher；thesimplementionofhermeansoftransportwassufficient。

Ridin’abull，wasshe？"repeatedtheoldman，laughing。"Well，thatwasEasterHicks，oldBillHicks’gal。She’sasorto’

connectiono’mine。MeandBillmarriedcousins。

She’sacur’uscritteraseverIseed。Shedon’seemtotakeatterherdadnurhermammynother，thoughBillallushadaquarstreakin’im，andwasthewustmanIeverseedwhenhewasdisguisedbylicker。Whardoesshelive？Oh，upthar，rightontopo’WolfMountain，withhermammy。"

Alone？

"Yes；ferherdadain’tthar。No；’n’heain’tdead。I’lltellye"—theoldmanloweredhistone—"tharusedtobeabigloto’moonshinin’

doneintheseparts，’n’araidercomehyehtosee’boutit。Well，onemornin’hewasfoundlayin’intheroadwithabulletthroughhim。

Billwass’picioned。Now，Iain’ta—sayin’asBilldoneit，butwhenawholelotmorerodeuptharonhossesonenight，theydidn’tfindBill。Theyhain’tfoundhimyit，ferhe’soutinthemountainssomewhara—hidin’。"

"Howdotheygetalongwithouthim？"askedClayton。

"Why，thegaldoesthework。Sheploughswiththatbull，anddoestheplantin’herself。Shekinchopwoodlikeaman。An’asfershootin’，well，whenhuntin’sgood’n’thar’sshootin’—matchesround—about，shedon’thavetobuymuchmeat。"

"It’sawondersomeyoungfellowhasn’tmarriedher。Isuppose，though，she’stooyoung。"

Theoldmanlaughed。"Thar’sbeenmanyalivelyyoungfellowthat’striedit，butshe’shardtoketchasawildcat。Shewon’thavenothin’todowithotherfolks，’n’shenuvercomesdownhyehintothevalley，’cepttogithercorngroun’ertoshootaturkey。SherdRainesgoesuptoseeher，andfolkssayheairtryin’togitherintothechurch。Butthegalwon’tgonighameetin’—house。Sheairacur’uscritter，"heconcludedemphatically，"shyasadeertillsheairstirredup，andthensheairacaution；mightygentlesometimes，andag’instubbornasamule。"

Ashrill，infantilescreamcamefromwithin，andtheoldmanpausedamomenttolisten。

"Yedidn’tknowIhadagreat—grandchild，didye？That’sita—hollerin’。TalkaboutEasterbein’tooyoungtomerry!Whyhit’smotherairtwoyearyounger’nEaster。Jescomeinhyehaminit。"

Theoldmountaineerroseandledthewayintothecabin。Claytonwasembarrassedatfirst。Ononebedlayarathercomelyyoungwomanwithachildbyherside；onachestclosebysatanotherwithherlover，courtinginthemostopenandprimitivemanner。Inthecorneranoldgrandamdozedwithherpipe，herwitheredfacejusttouchedbytherimofthefirelight。Neararectangularholeinthewallwhichservedthepurposeofawindow，stoodagirlwhoseface，silhouettedagainstthedarkness，hadinitacuriousmixtureofchildishnessandmaturity。

"Whar’sthebaby？"askedUncleTommy。

Somebodyoutsidewasadmiringit，andtheyounggirlleanedthroughthewindowandliftedtheinfantwithin。

Thar’sababyferye!"exclaimedtheoldmountaineer，proudly，liftingitintheairandturningitsfacetothelight。Butthechildwaspeevishandfretful，andhehandeditbackgently。Claytonwaswonderingwhichwasthemother，when，tohisamazement，almosttohisconfusion，thegirlliftedthechildcalmlytoherownbreast。Thechildwasthemotherofthechild。Shewasbarelyfifteen，withthefaceofagirloftwelve，andhermotherlymannerhadstruckhimasanoddcontrast。Hefeltathrillofpityfortheyoungmotherashecalledtomindtheagedyoungwiveshehadseenwhowerehaggardandcare—wornatthirty，andwhostillmanagedtolivetoanoldage。HewasindefinablygladthatEasterhadescapedsuchafate。Whenheleftthecabin，theoldmancalledafterhimfromthedoor：

"Thar’sgoin’tobeashootin’—matchamongtheboysto—morrer，’n’I

jedgethatEaster’11beonhand。Sheal’aysis。"

"Isthatso？"saidClayton。"Well，I’lllookoutforit。"

Theoldmountaineerloweredhisvoice。

"Yehain’tthinkin’abouttakin’awife，airye？"

"No，no!"

"Well，efyeair，"saidtheoldman，slowly，"I’ma—thinkin’yu’llhavetobuckupag’inSherdRaines，ferefIhain’tlikeagoosea—pickin’o’grassbymoonshine，Sherdairatterthegalferhisself，notfertheLord。Yes，"hecontinued，afterashort，drylaugh；"’n’

mebbeye’llhavtokeepaneyeopenferoldBill。Theysaythatheairmightylowdown，’n’kindo’sorry’n’skeery，forIreckonSherdRaineshevtoldhimhehavgottopaythepenaltyfertakin’ahumanlife；butIwouldn’tsotmuchonhisbein’sorryefhewasmadatmeandhadlickerinhim。Hehatesfurriners，andhehasacrazyideethattheyisallraiders’n’lookin’ferhim。"

"Idon’tthinkI’llbotherhim，"saidClayton，turningawaywithalaugh。"Good—nightt"Withalittlecackleofincredulity，theoldmanclosedthedoor。Thecamphadsunknowtoperfectquiet；butforthefaintnotesofabanjofaruptheglen，notasoundtrembledonthenightair。

TherimofthemoonwasjustvisibleabovethemountainonwhichEaster—whataprettynamethatwas!—hadflasheduponhisvisionwithsuchtheatriceffect。Asitsbrilliantlightcameslowlydownthedarkmountain—side，themistsseemedtoloosentheirwhitearms，andtocreepawaylikeghostsmistakingthelightfordawn。

Withthebaseofthemountainindenseshadow，itscrest，upliftedthroughthevapors，seemedpoisedintheairatastartlingheight。

Yetitwasnearthecrestthathehadmether。Claytonpausedamoment，whenhereachedhisdoor，tolookagain。Whereinthatcloud—landcouldshelive？

III

WHENthegreatbellstruckthehourofthenextnoon，mountaineerswithlongriflesacrosstheirshouldersweremovingthroughthecamp。Theglenopenedintoavalley，which，blockedontheeastbyPineMountain，wasthusshutinoneverysidebywoodedheights。Herethemarksmengathered。Allweremountaineers，lank，bearded，men，coatlessforthemostpart，anddressedinbrownhome—madejeans，slouched，formlesshats，andhigh，coarseboots。Sunandwindhadtannedtheirfacestosympathy，incolor，withtheirclothes，whichhadthedunlookofthesoil。Theyseemedpeculiarlyaraceofthesoil，tohavesprungastheywerefromtheearth，whichhadleftindeliblestainsuponthem。Allcarriedlongrifles，old—fashionedandhome—made，someevenwithflint—locks。ItwasSaturday，andmanyoftheirwiveshadcomewiththemtothecamp。Thesestoodnear，huddledintoalistlessgroup，withtheirfaceshalfhiddenincheckbonnetsofvariouscolors。Abarbaricloveofcolorwasapparentinbonnet，shawl，andgown，andsurprisinglyincontrastwithsuchcrudenessoftastewasafacewhenfullyseen，somodestwasit。Thefeatureswerealwaysdelicatelywrought，andsoftenedsometimesbyalookofpatientsufferingalmostintorefinement。

Ontheothersideofthecontestantswerethepeopleofthecamp，afewminerswithpipesloungingontheground，andwomenandgirls，whoreturnedthefurtiveglancesofthemountainwomenwithstaresofcuriosityandlowlaughter。

Claytonhadbeendelayedbyhiswork，andthematchwasalreadygoingonwhenhereachedthegrounds。

"You’vemissedmightyfineshootin’，"saidUncleTommyBrooks，whowassquattedonthegroundnearthegroupofmarksmen。

Sherd’sbeena—beatin’ever’body。I’mafeardEasterhain’ta—comm’。

Thematchis’mostovernow。Efshe’dbeenhere，Idon’tthinkSherdwould’a’gotthech’icepartso’thatbeefsoeasy。"

"Whichishe？"askedClayton。

Thattallfellertharloadin’hisgun。"

"Whatdidyousayhisnamewas？

"SherdRaines，thefellerthat’sgoin’tobeourcircuit—rider。"

Herememberedthepeculiarname。SothiswasEaster’slover。

Claytonlookedattheyoungmountaineer，curiouslyatfirst，andthenwithgrowinginterest。Hisquietairofauthorityamonghisfellowswaslikeabirthright；itseemedassumedandacceptedunconsciously。Hisfacewassmooth，andhewasfullerinfigurethantherest，butstillsinewyandlank，thoughnotawkward；hismovementsweretooquickanddecisiveforthat。WithacasualglanceClaytonhadwonderedwhatsecretinfluencecouldhaveturnedtospiritualthingsamansomerelyanimal—likeinfaceandphysique；butwhenthemountaineerthrustbackhishat，elementalstrengthandseriousnesswereapparentinthesquarebrow，thesteadyeye，thepoiseofthehead，andinlinesaroundthestrongmouthandchininwhichthestruggleforself—masteryhadbeentraced。

Asthemountaineerthrusthisramrodbackintoitscasing，heglancedatthewoodsbehindClayton，andsaidsomethingtohiscompanions。They，too，raisedtheireyes，andatthesamemomenttheoldmountaineerpluckedClaytonbythesleeve。

"TharcomesEasternow。"

Thegirlhadjustemergedfromtheedgeoftheforest，andwitharifleononeshoulderandabullet—pouchandpowder—hornswungfromtheother，wasslowlycomingdownthepath。

"Why，howairye，Easter？"criedtheoldman，heartily。"Goin’toshoot，airye？I’lowedyewouldn’tmissthis。Yeairmightylate，though。"

Oh，Ionlywantedaturkey，"saidthegirl。"Well，I’ma—comm’uptoeatdinnerwithyeto—morrer，"heanswered，withalaugh，"ferIknowye’llgitone。Y’u’reonhandfermosto’thematchesnow。

Wildturkeysmustbea—gittin’skeerce。"

Thegirlsmiled，showingarowofbrilliantteethbetweenherthin，redlips，and，withoutanswering，movedtowardthegroupofmountainwomen。Claytonhadraisedhishandtohishatwhentheoldmanaddressedher，buthedroppeditquicklytohissideinnolittleembarrassmentwhenthegirlcarelesslyglancedoverhimwithnosignofrecognition。Herriflewasanoldflint—lockoflightbuild，butnearlysixfeetinlength，withashadeofrustytintwofeetlongfastenedtothebarreltopreventthesunlightfromaffectingthemarksman’saim。Sheworeaman’shat，which，withunintentionalcoquetry，wasperchedononesideofherhead。Herhairwasshort，andfellasitpleasedaboutherneck。Shewasbare—footed，andapparentlycladinasinglegarment，abluehomespungown，gatheredlooselyatheruncorsetedwaist，andshowingtheoutlineofthebustandeverymovementofthetall，suppleformbeneath。Herappearancehadquickenedtheinterestofthespectators，andapparentlywasadisturbinginfluenceamongthecontestants，whoweregatheredtogether，evidentlyindispute。

FromtheirglancesClaytonsawthatEasterwasthesubjectofit。

"Iguesstheydon’twanthertoshoot—themthathain’twonnothin’，"

saidUncleTommy。

Shehevcomeinlate，"Claytonheardonesay，"’n’sheoughtn’toshoot。Tharhain’tnochanceshootin’ag’inhernoways，’n’I’minfavoro’barrin’herout。"

Ohno；lethershoot"—thevoicewasRaines’s。"Tharhain’tnothin’

butafewturkeysleft，’n’ye’dbetterbaroutthegun’stido’thegal，anyway，ferthatgunkinoutshootany—thinginthemountains。"

Thegirlhadbeensilentlywatchingthegroupasifpuzzled；andwhenRainesspokeherfacetightenedwithsuddendecision，andshestrodeswiftlytowardthemintimetooverheartheyoungmountaineer’slastwords。

Sohit’sthegun，ishit，SherdRaines？

Thecrowdturned，andRainesshrankalittleasthegirlfacedhimwithflashingeyes。"Sohit’sthegun，ishit？Hitisagoodgun，butyeoughttobeashamedtotakeallthecredit’wayfromme。Butefyouairsosartainhit’sthegun，"shecontinued，"I’llshootyourn，’n’

y’ukinhevmineefIdon’tbeatyewithyerowngun。"

"Goodferyou，Easter!"shoutedtheoldmountaineer。

Raineshadrecoveredhimself，andwaslookingatthegirlseriously。Severalofhiscompanionsurgedhimaloudtoacceptthechallenge，buthepaidnoheedtothem。Heseemedtobedebatingthequestionwithhimself，andamomentlaterhesaid，quietly：

"’N’youkinhevmineefIdon’tbeatyou。"

Thiswasallhesaid，buthekepthiseyesfixedonthegirl’sface；

andwhen，withadefiantglance，sheturnedtowardthemountainwomen，hefollowedandstoppedher。

"Easter，"Claytonheardhimsay，inalow，slowvoice，"Iwastryin’

togityeachancetoshoot，feryehevbeenwinnin’somuchthatit’shardtogitupamatchwhenyeairinit。"Thehardlookonthegirl’sfaceremainedunchanged，andthemountaineercontinued，firmly：

"’N’Itoldthetruth；ferefyepinmedown，Idothinkhitisthegun。"

"Jesyouwait’n’see，"answeredthegirl，shortly，andRaines，afteraquestioninglook，rejoinedthegroup。

"Iwon’ttakethegunefIwinit，"hesaidtothem；"butsheairgittin’toosetupan’proud，’n’I’mgoin’todomybesttotakeherdownabit。"

Therewasnothingboastfulormaliciousinhismannerorspeech，andnobodydoubtedthathewouldwin，fortherewerefewmarksmeninthemountainshisequals，andhewouldhavetheadvantageofusinghisowngun。

"Lookhyeh，"saidalong，thinmountaineer，cominguptothegroup，"tharain’tbutoneturkeyleft，’n’I’dliketoknowwhatweairgoin’toshootatefSherd’n’Eastergitsacrackathim。"

Intheinterestofthematchnoonehadthoughtofthat，andamomentofdebatefollowed，whichClaytonendedbysteppingforward。

"I’llfurnishaturkeyfortherestofyou，"hesaid。

Thegirlturnedwhenhespokeandgavehimaquickglance，butavertedhereyesinstantly。

Clayton’sofferwasaccepted，andthepreliminarytrialtodecidewhoshouldshootfirstattheturkeywasbegun。Everydetailwaswatchedwithincreasinginterest。Apieceofwhitepapermarkedwithtwoconcentriccircleswasplacedsixtyyardsaway，andRaineswonwithabulletintheinnercircle。Thegirlhadmissedboth，andthemountaineerofferedhertwomoreshotstoaccustomherselftothegun。Sheaccepted，andsmiledalittletriumphantlyasshetouchedtheoutercirclewithonebulletandplacedtheotheralmostinthecentre。Itwasplainthatthetwowereevenlymatched，andseveralshoutsofapprovalcamefromthecrowd。

Theturkeywashobbledtoastakeatthesamedistance，andbothweretofireatitshead，withtheprivilegeofshootingatfiftyyardsifnorestweretaken。

Rainesshotfirstwithoutrest，and，ashemissed，thegirlfollowedhisexample。Theturkeydozedoninthesunlight，undisturbedbyeither。Themountaineerwasvexed。Withhispowerfulfacesetdeterminedly，helaydownflatontheground，and，restinghisrifleoverasmalllog，tookaninordinatelylongandcarefulaim。Theriflecracked，theturkeybobbeditsheadunhurt，andthemarksmansprangtohisfeetwithanexclamationofsurpriseandchagrin。Asheloadedthegunandgravelyhandedittothegirl，theexcitementgrewintense。Thecrowdpressedclose。Thestolidfacesofthemountaineerwomen，thrustfromtheirbonnets，becamealmosteagerwithinterest。Raines，quietandcomposedashewas，lookedanxious。Alleyesfollowedeverymovementofthegirlasshecoollystretchedherlong，activefigureontheground，drewherdresscloseaboutit，and，throwingheryellowhairoverherfacetoshadehereyesfromtheslantingsunlight，placedhercheekagainstthestockofthegun。Alongsuspensefollowed。Ahushalmostofsolemnityfelluponthecrowd。

"Whydon’tthegalshoot？"askedavoice，impatiently。

Claytonsawwhatthematterwas，and，steppingtowardher，saidquietly，"Youforgottosetthetrigger。"

Thegirl’sfacecolored。Againhereyeglancedalongthebarrel，apuffofsmokeflewfromthegun，andashoutcamefromeverypairoflipsastheturkeyleapedintotheairandfell，beatingthegroundwithitswings。Inaninstantayoungmountaineerhadrushedforwardandseizedit，and，afteraglance，droppeditwithayelloftriumph。

"Shotplum’throughtheeyes!"heshouted。"Shotplum’throughtheeyes!

Thegirlarose，andhandedthegunbacktoRaines。

Keephit，"hesaid，steadily。"Hit’syourn。"

"Idon’twantthegun，"shesaid，"butIdidwantthatturkey—’n’"—alittletauntingly—"Ididwanttobeatyou，SherdRaines。"

Themountaineer’sfaceflushedanddarkened，buthesaidnothing。

Hetooknopartintheshootingthatfollowed，andwhen，afterthematchwasover，thegirl，withherrifleononeshoulderandtheturkeyovertheother，turnedupthemountainpath，Claytonsawhimfollowher。

AFORTNIGHTlaterClayton，rifleinhand，tookthesamepath。ItwaslateinMay。The’leafagewasluxuriant，andthemountains，woodedtothetops，seemedoverspreadwithgreat，shaggyrugsofgreen。Thewoodswereresonantwithsong—birds，andthedewdrippedandsparkledwhereverashaftofsunlightpiercedthethickleaves。

LatevioletshidshylyundercanopiesofMay—apple；bunchesofblueandofwhiteanemonenoddedfromunderfallentrees，andwaterranlikehiddenmusiceverywhere。Slowlythevalleyandthesoundofitslife—thelowingofcattle，theclatteratthemines，thesongsofthenegroesatwork—sankbeneathhim。Thechorusofbirdsdwindleduntilonlythecool，flute—likenotesofawood—

thrushrosefaintlyfrombelow。Uphewent，windingaroundgreatoaks，fallentrunks，loosebowlders，andthreateningcliffsuntillightglimmeredwhitelybetweenthebolesofthetrees。Fromagapwherehepausedtorest，afire—scald"wasvisibleclosetothe’

crestoftheadjoiningmountain。Itwasfilledwiththecharred，ghost—liketrunksoftreesthathadbeenburnedstanding。Easter’shomemustbenearthat，Claytonthought，andheturnedtowarditbyapaththatranalongthetopofthemountain。Afterafewhundredyardsthepathswervedsharplythroughadensethicket，andClaytonstoppedinwonder。

Somenaturalagenthadhollowedthemountain，leavingalevelplateauofseveralacres。Theearthhadfallenawayfromagreatsombrecliffofsolidrock，andclinginglikeaswallow’snestinacleftofthiswastheusualrudecabinofamountaineer。Thefaceoftherockwasdarkwithvines，andthecabinwasprotectedasbyafortress。Butonewayofapproachwaspossible，andthatstraighttotheporch。Fromthecliffthevineshadcrepttoroofandchimney，andwerewavingtheirtendrilsaboutathinbluespiralofsmoke。

Thecabinwasgrayandtotteringwithage。Abovetheporchonthebranchesofanapple—treehungleavesthatmatchedinrichnessoftintthethickmossontheroughshingles。Underitanoldwomansatspinning，andahoundlayasleepatherfeet。Easterwasnowheretobeseen，buthervoicecamefrombelowhiminaloudtoneofcommand；andpresentlysheappearedfrombehindaknoll，abovewhichthethatchedroofofastablewasvisible，andslowlyascendedthepathtothehouse。Shehadevidentlyjustfinishedwork，foraploughstoodinthelastfurrowofthefield，andthefragranceoffreshlyturnedearthwasintheair。Ontheporchshesankwearilyintoalowchair，and，foldingherhands，lookedawaytothemountains。

Claytonclimbedthecrumblingfence。Adeadtwigsnapped，and，startledbythesound，thegirlbegantorise；but，givinghimonequick，sharplook，droppedhereyestoherhands，andremainedmotionless。

"Goodmorning，"saidClayton，liftinghishat。Thegirldidnotraiseherface。Thewheelstopped，andthespinnerturnedherhead。

Howairye？"shesaid，withreadyhospitality。"Comeinan’hevacheer。"

"No，thankyou，"heanswered，alittleembarrassedbyEaster’soddbehavior。"MayIgetsomewater？

"Sartinly，"saidtheoldwoman，lookinghimovercuriously。"

Easter，gogitsomefresh。"

Thegirlstartedtorise，butClayton，pickingupthebucket，said，quickly：

"Ohno；Iwon’ttroubleyou。Iseethespring，"headded，noticingatinystreamthattrickledfromafissureatthebaseofthecliff。

Whoairthatfeller，Easter？"themotherasked，inalowvoice，whenClaytonwasoutofhearing。

"Oneo’themfurrinerswhohevcomeintoInjunCreek，"wastheindifferentreply。

That’ssplendidwater，"saidClayton，returning。"MayIgiveyousome？"Theoldwomanshookherhead。Easter’seyeswerestillonthemountains，andapparentlyshehadnotheardhim。

"Hitairgoodwater，"saidthemother。

"Thatspringneverdoesgodry。Youbettercomeinandrestaspell。Isupposeyeairfromthemines？"sheadded，assheturnedtoresumespinning。

Yes，"answeredClayton。"Thereisgoodhuntingaroundhere，isn’tthere？"hewenton，feelingthatsomeexplanationwasdueforhissuddenarrivalawayupinthatlonespot。

Therewasnoanswer。Easterdidnotlooktowardhim，andthespinningstopped。

"Whutd’yousay？"askedtheoldwoman。

Claytonrepeatedhisquestion。

"Tharusedtobeprimehuntin’inthesepartswhenmydadclearedoffthisspotmore’nfiftyyearago，butthevarmintshevmostlybeenkilledout。ButEasterkintellyoubetter’nIkin，forshedoesallourhuntin’，’n’shekinoutshoot’mos’anymaninthemountains。"

Yes；Isawhershootatthematchtheotherdaydownatthemines。"

Didye？"—asmileofpleasurebrokeovertheoldwoman’sface—"

wharshebeatSherdRaines？Sherdwantedtomortifyher，butshemortifiedhim，Ireckon。"

Thegirldidnotjoininhermother’slaugh，thoughthecornersofhermouthtwitchedfaintly。

Ilikeshooting，myself，"saidClayton。"Iwouldgointoamatch，butI’mafraidIwouldn’thavemuchchance。"

"Ireckonnot，withthatshortthing？"saidtheoldwoman，pointingathisrepeating—rifle。"Wouldyeshootwiththat？"

Oh，yes，"answeredClayton，smiling；"itshootsverywell。"

"Howfer？"

"Oh，alongway。"

Ahugeshadowsweptoverthehouse，thrownbyabuzzardsailingwithmagnificenteasehighabovethem。Thinkingthathemightdisturbitsflight，Claytonroseandcockedhisrifle。

"Ye’renotgoingtoshootatthat？"saidtheoldwoman，grinning。

Thegirlhadlookedtowardhimatlast，withasmileoffaintdension。

Claytontookaimquicklyandfired。Thehugebirdsankasthoughhit，curveddownward，andwithoneflapofhisgreatwingssailedon。

"Well，efIdidn’tthinkyehadhithim!"saidtheoldwoman，inamazement。"Youkinshoot，ferafac’。"

Easter’sattentionwasgainedatlast。Forthefirsttimeshelookedstraightathim，andherlittlesmileofderisionhadgivenwaytoalookofmingledcuriosityandrespect。

"Iexpectedonlytoscarehim，"saidClayton。

Thegunwillcarrytwicethatfar。"

Hit’sjestaswellyedidn’thithim，"saidtheoldwoman。’Hitairfivedollarsfinetokillabuzzardaroundhyeh。I’dneverthoughtthatlittlethingcouldshoot。"

"Itshootsseveraltimes，"saidClayton。"Hitdoeswhut？"

Likeapistol，"heexplained，and，rising，hedirectedseveralshotsinquicksuccessionatadeadtreeintheploughedfield。Ateachshotapuffofdustcamealmostfromthesamespot。

Whenheturned，Easterhadrisentoherfeetinastonishment，andthemotherwaslaughinglongandloudly。

"Don’tyewishyehadagunlikethat，Easter？"shecried。

Claytonturnedquicklytothegirl，andbeganexplainingthemechanismoftheguntoher，withoutappearingtonoticeherembarrassment，forsheshrankperceptiblywhenhespoketoher。

"Won’tyouletmeseeyourgun？"heasked。

Shebroughtouttheoldflint—lock，andhandedittohimalmosttimidly。

Thisisveryinteresting，"hesaid。"Ineversawonelikeitbefore。"

"Tharhain’tbutonemorejestlikethatinthemountains，"saidtheoldwoman，"’n’Easter’sgotthat。Mydadmade’emboth。"

"Howwouldyouliketotradeoneformine，ifyouhavetwo？"saidClaytontothegirl。"I’llgiveyouallmycartridgestoboot。"

Thegirllookedathermotherwithhesitation。Claytonsawthatbothwonderedwhathecouldwantwiththegun，andheadded：

"I’dliketohaveittotakehomewithme。Itwouldbeagreatcuriosity。"

"Well，"saidthemother，"youkinhevoneefyewanthit，andthinkthetrade’sfa’r。"

Claytoninsisted，andthetradewasmade。Theoldwomanresumedspinning。Thegirltookherseatinthelowchair，holdinghernewtreasureinherlap，withhereyesfixedonit，andoccasionallyrunningonebrownhanddownitsshiningbarrel。Claytonwatchedher。Shehadgivennosignwhateverthatshehadeverseenhimbefore，andyetacuriouschangehadcomeoverher。Herimperiousmannerhadyieldedtoasingularreserveandtimidity。Thepeculiarbeautyofthegirlstruckhimnowwithunusualforce。Herprofilewasremarkablyregularanddelicate；hermouthsmall，resolute，andsensitive；heavy，darklashesshadedherdowncasteyes；andherbrowsuggestedamentalitythathefeltastrongdesiretotest。Herfeetweresmall，andsowereherquick，nervoushands，whichwerestillfinelyshaped，inspiteofthehardusagethathadleftthembrownandcallous。Hewonderedifshewasreallyaslovelyassheseemed；ifhisstandardmightnothavebeenaffectedbyhislongstayinthemountains；ifherpicturesqueenvironmentmightnothaveinfluencedhisjudgment。Hetriedtoimagineherdaintilyslippered，cladinwhite，withherloosehairgatheredinaPsycheknot；orineveningdress，witharmsandthroatbare；butthepicturesweredifficulttomake。Helikedherbestasshewas，inperfectphysicalsympathywiththenaturalphasesabouther；asmuchapartofthemastree，plant，orflower，embodyingthefreedom，grace，andbeautyofnatureaswellandasunconsciouslyasthey。Hequestionedwhethershehardlyfeltherselftobeapartfromthem；and，ofcourse，sheaslittleknewherkinshiptothem。