The Call of the Cumberlands

"Hadn't ye better take a lantern?" he questioned.

"No, I reckon I won't need none." And Samson went out, and mounted his

mule.

A half-mile along the road, he halted and dismounted. There, in a

small cove, surrounded by a tangle of briars and blackberry bushes,

stood a small and dilapidated "meeting house" and churchyard, which he

must visit. He made his way through the rough undergrowth to the

unkempt half-acre, and halted before the leaning headstones which

marked two graves. With a sudden emotion, he swept the back of his hand

across his eyes. He did not remove his hat, but he stood in the drizzle

of cold rain for a moment of silence, and then he said: "Pap, I hain't fergot. I don't want ye ter think thet I've fergot."

Before he arrived at the Widow Miller's, the rain had stopped and the

clouds had broken. Back of them was a discouraged moon, which sometimes

showed its face for a fitful moment, only to disappear. The wind was

noisily floundering through the treetops. Near the stile, Samson gave

his whippoorwill call. It was, perhaps, not quite so clear or true as

usual, but that did not matter. There were no other whippoorwills

calling at this season to confuse signals. He crossed the stile, and

with a word quieted Sally's dog as it rose to challenge him, and then

went with him, licking his hand.

Sally opened the door, and smiled. She had spent the day nerving

herself for this farewell, and at least until the moment of leave-

taking she would be safe from tears. The Widow Miller and her son soon

left them alone, and the boy and girl sat before the blazing logs.

For a time, an awkward silence fell between them. Sally had donned her

best dress, and braided her red-brown hair. She sat with her chin in

her palms, and the fire kissed her cheeks and temples into color. That

picture and the look in her eyes remained with Samson for a long while,

and there were times of doubt and perplexity when he closed his eyes

and steadied himself by visualizing it all again in his heart. At last,

the boy rose, and went over to the corner where he had placed his gun.

He took it up, and laid it on the hearth between them.

"Sally," he said, "I wants ter tell ye some things thet I hain't never

said ter nobody else. In the fust place, I wants ye ter keep this hyar

gun fer me."

The girl's eyes widened with surprise.