xt7p2n4zh75w https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7p2n4zh75w/data/mets.xml Litsey, Edwin Carlile, 1874-1970. 1913  books b92-254-31805165 English Browne & Howell Co., : Chicago : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Cassel, John Harmon, 1872-1961. Maid of the Kentucky hills  / by Edwin Carlile Litsey ... ; illustrated by John Cassel. text Maid of the Kentucky hills  / by Edwin Carlile Litsey ... ; illustrated by John Cassel. 1913 2002 true xt7p2n4zh75w section xt7p2n4zh75w 
THE MAID OF THE KENTUCKY HILLS
 



































I KNELT on the tree, bent down, and
   took her upheld hand in mine
                         [Chapter VIII I

 



     A MAID OF
           THE

KENTUCKY HILLS


            BY
   EDWIN CARLILE LITSEY
   Author of "The Man from Jericho," etc.



        ILLUSTRATED BY
        JOHN CASSEL



BROWNE



CHICAGO
 HOWELL
   I 913



COMPANY

 


































      COPYRIGHT, 1911
BROWNE  HOWELL COMPANY

      Copyright in England
      All rights re8erved


  PUBLISHED, NOVEMBER, 1913



THEE PL M PTON PRESS
NORWOOD MASS.- U- S- A

 



























      TO
      SARA
OF THE SUNNY HAIR

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                CONTENTS
                                           PAGE
CHAPTER ONE.I
     In Which I Go to 'Crombie

CHAPTER Two.9
     In Which I Go to 'Crombie Again

CHAPTER THREE .20
     In Which I Find a Lodge in the Wilderness

CHAPTER  FOUR    .  . . .   . .   . .  .  . 29
     In Which I Meet a Dryad

CHAPTER FIVE  .  . .  .  . . . .    .  .  . 42
     In Which I Say What I Please

CHAPTER SIX   .  .  . .  . .   .  . .  .  . 45
     In Which I Meet a Satyr

CHAPTER SEVEN .  .  . .  .  . . .   .  .  . 53
     In Which the Satyr and I Sit Cheek by Jowl

CHAPTER EIGHT    .  . .  . .   .  . .  .  . 66
     In Which I Pitch My Tent Toward Hebron
     for the Space of an Afternoon

CHAPTER NINE  .  .  . .  . .   . .  .  .  . 90
     In Which I Sit Upon a Hilltop and Reflect
     to no Advantage

CHAPTER TEN   .  . .  . .   .  . .  .  .  . 102
     In Which I Spend a Pleasant Hour and Hear
     Some News

 




                  CONTENTS
                                             PAGE
CHAPTER ELEVEN    . . . . . . . . . . 120
     In Which Other Characters Come Into Our
     Story

CHAPTER TWELVE    . . . . . . . . . . I41
     In Which I Attend an Oratorio

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.   . . . . . . . . . 148
      In Which I Suffer Four Shocks, Three of
      the Earth and One From the Sky, and Find
      Another TMaid A-Fishing

CHAPTER FOURTEEN    . . . . . . . . . 172
      In Which Yet a Fifth Shock Arrives, and
      Rounds Out the Day

CHAPTER FIFTEEN   . . . . . . . . . . i89
     In Which the Historian Unblushingly Shows
     Himself to be a Human

CHAPTER SIXTEEN . . . . . . . . . . 200
     In Which Much Added Light is Shed Upon
     Miss Beryl Drane, but Only a Glimmer Upon
     My Problem

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN   . . . . . . . . . 2r9
     In Which I Entertain Seriously a Chivalrous
     Notion to my Great Detriment

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN    . . . . . . . . . 235
     In Which I Descend Into Hell

CHAPTER NINETEEN    . . . . . . . . . 256
     In Which the Satyr and the Narrator Become
     Very Drunk, and the Latter is Lifted to
     Earth Again

 




                 CONTENTS
                                             PAGE
CHAIPTER TWENTY . . . . . . . . . . 271
     In Which I View an Empty World, Act a
     Hypocrite, and Hear a Confession of Love

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE     . . . . . . . . 296
     In Which, Strange to Say, Time Passes.
     Also I Receive Three Warnings, and Witness
     an Unparalleled Episode in the Smithy of
     Buck Steele

CHAPTER TWENTY-'TWO    . . . . . . . . 324
      In Which I Spar With Death
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE . . . . . . . . 346
      In Which, Though the World is Still a Void,
      There is the Shining of a Great Light

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR .360
      In Which I Vanquish a Demoniac, and Enter
      Into Glory

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            A MAID OF

 THE KENTUCKY HILLS

              CHAPTER ONE

         IN WHICH I GO TO 'CROMBIE
W        nC THEN a man of thirty who has been sound
         and well since boyhood suddenly realizes
         there is something radically wrong with
him, it amounts almost to a tragedy.
  It was mid-March when I became convinced that
I was "wrong." Near the close of winter I had
developed a hacking cough with occasional chest
pains, but with masculine mulishness had refused to
recognize any untoward symptoms. I was not a
sissy, to let a common cold frighten me and send me
trembling to the doctor. I began to lose flesh and
grow pale, whereas I had been of fine frame, and
decidedly athletic. Then I discovered a fleck of
crimson on my handkerchief one day after a hard
coughing spell. I got up from my desk with un-
                      1

 


A MAID OF THE KENTUCKY HILLS



steady knees and a chilly feeling down my spine,
and went to'Crombie. He was generally known as
Abercrombie Dane, M. D., but we grew up hand in
hand, as it were, and so-I went to 'Crombie. He
was a fine, big animal; head of a Hercules and
strength of a jack and sense like Solon. A rare
man.
  I told him my tale shamefacedly, for I realized
now I had acted a fool, and that maybe my day
of grace had passed. He knew I was scared, for he
was sensitive, in spite of his bulk and seeming
brusqueness. There was pity in his eyes before I
finished, and I had to grapple with myself to keep
the moisture out of mine, his sympathy was so real.
  Then I silently gave him the handkerchief, with
the telltale stain.
  He looked at it absently, and rubbed it gently with
the tip of one big finger.
  "My son," he said-it was an affectionate form of
address which he nearly always employed-"you are
starting a colony."
  His deep voice was very steady.
  "A what" I demanded.
  "Bugs," he replied, laconically, and looked me
squarely in the eyes.
  "Bugs!" I cried, feeling the cold hand of Fear at
my heart.
                       2

 


IN WHICH I GO TO 'CROMBIE



  He shut his lips tightly, and nodded three or four
times.
  For a few moments I was literally and positively
paralyzed. I felt as if he had pronounced sentence
of death. 'Crombie had dropped his eyes, and his
broad, strong face was serious.
  My nature is buoyant, and presently the reaction
came.
  "Are they crawlin' yet, Doc" I asked, a smile
struggling to my lips.
  I cannot understand now why I asked that ques-
tion. Perhaps it was a foolish attempt at bravado in
the presence of a serious fact just discovered.
  He did not answer. He recognized the query as
flippant, and his nature was deep. He sat looking
at the floor a long time, and I did not intrude again
upon his thoughts. But I imagined I felt a tickling
beneath my ribs, as of many tiny feet at work.
Bugs! Ugh!
  At last 'Crombie's shaggy head came up.
  "There's a chance-a good chance," he said, and
I felt courage spreading through me like wine, for
'Crombie never spoke hastily, nor at random.
  "Sea voyages and high altitudes wouldn't hurt,"
he resumed, "but you haven't the money for them.
Still you 've got to hike from town, my son. Change
is all right, but pure air and coarse, good food is your
                       3

 


A MAID OF THE KENTUCKY HILLS



cue. The knob country is not far away. There
you '11 find all you'd find in New Mexico or Colorado
or Arizona, and be in praying distance of the Al-
mighty to boot. I know the spot for you, my son.
It is a great knob which stands in the midst of a vast
range, and it is belted with pine and cedar trees.
Find or build you a shack on it half way up and
stay there for a year. That 's your prescription, my
son."
  "It 's a devilish hard one to take !" I protested, in
my ignorance.
  "Condemned men are not usually so particular as
to their method of escape," he admonished, with a
half smile.
  Then he fell to thinking again, with his finger on
his eyebrow. It was a peculiar attitude, which I
had never seen in anyone else. I sat still, hoping he
was evolving some pleasanter plan for my redemp-
tion. He was trying to change me into a hillbilly,
a savage! I looked at my white hands and carefully
kept nails, at my neat business suit and shining
shoes, and a slow rebellion awoke within me. I
had about decided to ignore 'Crombie and seek more
comforting advice, when his rumbling voice came
again.
  "It's mighty good authority which says you can't
kick against the pricks. Don't try it, my son. Be-
                        4

 


IN WHICH I GO TO 'CROMBIE



fore we begin final arrangements I want to ask you
a question. Have you ever heard of the life-
plant'"
  I gazed at him keenly, for the query did not savor
of sanity. I knew that his researches in botany al-
most equalled his skill in medicine, but in some vague
way I suspected a trick. His expression disarmed
me. It not only was genuine, but yearning. I have
never seen the same look in a man's eyes before or
since.
  "No; I never heard of it," I replied. "What is
it"
  His answer was spoken slowly and meditatively.
  "From the same source we get our hint regarding
the pricks, we read of a tree whose leaves are for
the healing of the nations. Nature is the mother of
medicine. There is nothing in pharmaceutics that
has not a direct origin from vegetable, animal, or
mineral life. It is my belief that there is a remedy
for every human ill if we could only lay our hands
on it. This brings us to your case, and the life-
plant."
  "Are you giving me straight goods, 'Crombie'"
I demanded, my suspicions rising again.
  "It is half legend, my son, I '11 admit, but I have
strong reasons for believing it does exist. It's an
Indian tale."
                        aS

 


A MAID OF THE KENTUCKY HILLS



  "Probably bosh," I muttered, my common sense
at bay.
  "I think not," he answered, calmly and soberly.
  "Have you ever seen it" I challenged.
  "No, but that does n't disprove it. Listen to me.
The life-plant is the most peculiar growth in nature,
and cannot be confounded with anything else. The
principal accessories to its full development are pure
air and sunshine, hence it is found only in the still
places of the woods and valleys. It is exceedingly
rare. You might spend a year searching for it un-
der the most favorable conditions, and find only one
specimen. Again, you might find none. So far as
science has gone, it grows from neither seed, bulb,
nor root. It seems to germinate from certain ele-
mental conjunctions, attains maturity, flowers and
dies. It may appear in the cleft of a rock, on the
side of a mountain range, or in the rich mold of a
valley. It claims no special season for its own, but
may come in December as well as in June. It
springs from snow as frequently as from summer
grass. This is how it looks. It is about twelve
inches high. Its stem is a most vivid green; its
leaves are triangular, of a bright golden color, and
the flower, which comes just at the top, is a collec-
tion of clear little globules, like the berries of the
mistletoe. They are clearer and purer than the
                        6

 



IN WHICH I GO TO 'CROMBIE



mistletoe berry, however. In fact, they are all but
transparent, and might readily be mistaken for a
cluster of dewdrops. Therein lies the efficacy of
this strange plant. Gather the bloom carefully, im-
merse it in a glass of water for twelve hours, then
drink the decoction entire. It will rout your
embryo colony, and make you sound and strong
as 1."  
  He leaned back and slapped his chest with his
open hand.
  "You're dopey, 'Crombie," I said, doubting, but
longing to believe him.
  He wheeled around to his desk.
  "All right, my son. You came to me for advice,
and got it. I consider that I've done my duty by
you."
  "Oh, come now!" I pleaded, ready to conciliate.
"That 's an awful. cock-and-bull story you 've handed
me, and you must n.t get huffy if it does n't go down
without choking.  I '11 try to swallow it, 'Crombie.
I do appreciate your advice, and I 'm going to try and
take it;-but tell me more about this infernal
flower."
  "Not infernal," he corrected, mollified; "but su-
pernal. I don't think there 's any more to tell.
Your stunt is to search till you find it, then follow
directions."
                        7

 


A MAID OF THE KENTUCKY HILLS



  "You say it grows anywhere" I continued, as-
suming interest.
  "Where there 's pure air and sunshine," he re-
peated.
  "And grows out of snow, 'Crombie"
  "As well as out of warm soil," he averred, dog-
gedly.
  "It appears to me that you 're looney, 'Crombie,
but I hope you 're not, and I 'll hunt for your bloom-
in' life-plant. But the question now is: who is go-
ing with me into my hill of refuge"
  "Who 's going with you Nobody! Who would
go with you People nowadays have neither time
nor inclination to burrow in the wilderness for a
twelve-month !"
  I groaned, for I knew that he was right. Mar-
tyrdom never has company.
  "There 's no other way" I pleaded. "Could n't
I have a native look for this healing flower for me"
  He shook his head. "It withers soon after it is
plucked. You had better carry a sealed jar of
water with you on your tramps."
  Resignation came to me with that speech. My
own folly had brought me where I was, and my
spirit suddenly rose up to meet the emergency.
  "I'll go, 'Crombie," I said. "Thank you for
your prescription."
                       8


 










CHAPTER TWO



      IN WHICH I GO TO 'CROMBIE AGAIN

        ROMBIE had said with chilling frank-
 (1     ness that I had n't the money for a sea
         voyage, or for extended travel. The state-
ment was distressingly true. Just at the time he
and I finished our college careers, my father died.
Contrary to general belief, and my own as well, he
was almost a bankrupt. It was the old story of the
frenzy for gain, great risks, and total loss. 'Crom-
bie took up medicine, while I, lured by the promises
of a fickle Fate, embraced literature. 'Crombie was
wise; I was foolish. 'When people are sick they
always want a doctor, but when they are idle they
do not always read. If there is one road to the
poorhouse which is freer from obstructions than all
others, it is the road of the unknown author. I
had a natural bent toward letters, had been editor-
in-chief of the college magazine, and had sold two
or three stories to middle-class periodicals. So, with,
the roseate illusions of youth at their flood, I pic-
                        9

 


A MAID OF THE KENTUCKY HILLS



tured myself soon among the front rank of Amer-
ican writers, and equipped myself for a speedy con-
quest.
  In six months I had sold a half dozen stories, for
something approaching one hundred dollars, and
had received enough rejection slips to paper one
room. To this use I applied them, taking a doleful
sort of pleasure in reading the punctilious printed
messages with their eternal refrain of "WVe regret,
etc." I wondered if the editors were as sorry as
they pretended to be. And I thought, too, of the
enormousness of their stationery bills.
  But I persevered. The ten years which followed
my embarkation upon this treacherous sea were not
entirely barren of results. I managed to live fru-
gally, which was something, and established grati-
fying relations with two or three magazines which
bought my manuscripts with encouraging regularity.
At last I placed a book with a reputable publishing
house. The story fell flat from the press. The
firm lost, and I did not receive a penny. The ex-
perience was bitter. I had spent a solid year writ-
ing that book, and I felt that if I could get a hear-
ing my period of probation would be over. I got
the hearing, and I was still in obscurity. That is
the typical literary beginning, and he who finally
succeeds deserves all he gets, for he has a heart of
                        10

 



I GO TO 'CROMBIE AGAIN



oak. My inherent optimism and stubborn will bore
me safely through the mists and shallows of defeat,
and with the sunlight of hope once more flooding
my soul, I went on. Then 'Crombie handed me
my commuted death sentence.
  It is wonderful how news of this sort gets abroad.
But it spreads like uncorked ether. I had proof of
this two days later when my minister, an aged and
good man, called on a mission of condolence.
  "God did it, my boy," he said, as he left, "and
you must bear it."
  I did n't believe him. I believed that the devil
did it, and that God would help me get rid of it.
  Since I had to go up into the wilderness, the
sooner I went the sooner I would return, and I found
my anxiety to be off increasing day by day. Spring
was unusually early this year. March was a mira-
cle month of plum blooms, and swelling buds, and
flower-sprinkled grass. Little spears of bright
green were beginning to show on the lilac bushes,
and elusive bird notes came fitfully from orchard and
fence-row-blown bubbles of sound bursting ere
they were scarcely heard.
  When I began to make my preparations, I real-
ized how helpless I was. What should I take with
me in the way of food, clothing, bedding, utensils;
medicine I had never camped out a night in my
                       11

 



   A MAID OF THE KENTUCKY HILLS
life. 'Crombie would have to tell me. He knew,
for every year he hiked off to Canada and the Adi-
rondacks for thirty days, and lived like a caveman
every hour he was gone. I went to his office. He
was engaged, with six people in the waiting-room.
I went out and got him on the telephone. He
promised to see me that night at nine in his apart-
ments. It was then three o'clock in the afternoon,
so I took a walk. I could do noching more until I
had talked to him.
  Lexington is really nothing more than a great
big country town, but we love it. I reached the
suburbs in half an hour, then took the pike, and
walked briskly. The day had been like one huge
bloom of some tropical orchid. Contrasted with
the biting winter only a few weeks back, it was
something to exult the heart and uplift the soul.
Rain had fallen the night before. Day came with
a world-wide flare of yellow sunshine; her dress a
tempered breeze. By noon a coat was uncomforta-
ble, and the air was full of music; the droning,
charming, ceaseless litany of the bees. At three in
the afternoon, when some strange freak drove me
to the open road, the miracle had not passed.
Surely God's hands were spread over the face of the
earth, and His eyes looked down between. A few
cumulus clouds were piled in fantastic groups
                       12

 



I GO TO 'CROMBIE AGAIN



toward the west, as I stopped about two miles out,
and gazed slowly around me. Overhead was in-
finity, and the presence of the Creator. Encom-
passing me were unnumbered acres of that soil of
which every child of the bluegrass is proud. On
the breast of the world the annual mystery was
spread. Death had changed to life. Where the
snow's warm blanket had lately lain uprose millions
and millions of tiny spears; wheat which had been
folded safely by nature's cover against the blighting
cold. Billowing fields of richest brown, where the
ploughshare had made ready a bed for the seed
corn and the hemp. Near me were two trees.
Their roots were intertwined, for their trunks were
not over a foot apart, and their branches had over-
lapped and interwoven. Almost as one growth they
seemed. They were the dogwood and the redbud,
and each was in full bloom. At first the sight daz-
zled me. The pure white flowers, yellow-hearted,
gleaming against the mass of crimson blooms which
clung closely to twig and limb, produced a remarka-
ble effect. The hardier trees remained bleak, bar-
ren, apparently lifeless. They required more
embracing from the sun, more kissing from the rain,
more sighs of entreaty from the wind before the
transmutation of sap to leaf would be accomplished.
  It chanced that I had halted at a spot where no
                       13

 


A MAID OF THE KENTUCKY HILLS



homestead was visible, and I was absolutely alone.
None passed, and no cattle or stock of any kind stood
in the adjoining fields. It was a faint foretaste of
the immediate future, and a peculiar peace came
over me as I stood on the hard, oiled road, and felt
myself becoming at one with the universal light and
life of the earth and sky. My breast thrilled, and
I drew in my breath quickly. Was it a message
An assurance from the mother-heart of Nature that
she would care for me tenderly in exile
  I turned and went slowly, thoughtfully, back to
town, reaching it just as the dusk began to be starred
by the rayed arc lights.
  "'Crombie," I said, lighting one of his choicest
cigars and sitting facing him; "you've steered me
into an awful mess."
  You know I could fuss at 'Crombie. He was too
big to take offense.
  "How so, my son" he replied, easily, his large
face gently humorous.
  "Well, I started to pack for this-er-trip, or
outing, and I had no more idea how to go about it
than a pig. What will I need, and what must I
take You 've got me into this, and you 've got to
see me through it."
  "The first thing you '11 need will be a roof with
good, stout, tight walls under it. Remember, you 're
                       14

 


I GO TO 'CROMBIE AGAIN



not going there to bask in sunshine alone, but you 're
going to spend next winter there!"
  I looked at him, and I imagine my expression was
something like that of a dog when a youth badgers
it, for 'Crombie laughed.
  "I don't want to make it worse than it is," he
apologized; "neither do I want you to be deceived in
any way regarding conditions. But by the time
winter comes, take my word for it, you can sleep in
a snow-drift without hurt."
  I smoked in silence. The thought was not en-
couraging.
  "I believe you will find things pretty much to
your hand there," he went on, in a ruminative voice.
"You remember I came from that part of the coun-
try, and the locality is entirely familiar. I have been
all over Bald Knob a dozen times. Eight years ago
a shack stood just where you would want yours. I
think a fellow who had a natural love for the woods
built it some eighteen or nineteen years ago, lived
there a while, and later moved to another State. It
is made entirely of undressed logs, and has one room
and a kitchen. It ought to be in good condition
yet, because it is protected by the bulk of the knob.
I should guess the room to be about sixteen feet
square, and the kitchen is a box, but big enough.
There is a spring near, considerably impregnated
                       15

 



  A MAID OF THE KENTUCKY HILLS
with sulphur. This water can have nothing but a
good effect. If the shack still stands, you should
consider yourself very lucky."
  As he drew this picture, I could not help but
gaze at the sumptuous furnishings of the room in
which I sat.
  "How close is the nearest town" I asked.
  "The nearest town is Cedarton, my old home, ten
miles from Bald Knob, but there is a hamlet within
three miles. This consists of a few cottages, a store,
a blacksmith shop and a distillery. You will have
occasion to visit neither place often. If you should
happen to run short of provisions, go to the hamlet
called Hebron."
  "Then seclusion is as necessary as pure air and
plain food"
  "It is to prevent you from forming the habit that
I advise you not to seek people. Man is naturally
gregarious. If you began going to the hamlet once
a week you would soon be going every day, and you
would deteriorate into a cracker box philosopher or
a nail keg politician, spending your time in hump-
shouldered inertia rather than in tramping through
the health-giving open in quest of the life-plant.
You are going forth with a purpose, my son; don't
forget that."
   I threw my head back against the cushioned
                        16

 



        I GO TO 'CROMBIE AGAIN
leather, and in doing so my eyes lighted on a mag-
nificent moose head over the mantel.
  "You killed that fellow" I asked, swerving sud-
denly from the subject without apology, as is per-
mitted between old friends.
  "Yes; in northern Maine. I trailed him ten
days, went hungry for two, broke through some thin
lake ice in zero weather, tramped five miles with my
wet clothes frozen on me before I could get to a fire,
and slept two nights under snow a foot deep. Then
I killed him."
  I stared at him curiously.
  "I confess," I said, "that I have thought you were
giving me a prescription you knew nothing about.
I beg your pardon for my unbelief."
  He smiled, and broke his cigar ash into the tray
at his elbow.
  "I would n't miss my annual trip into Eden for a
year's income," he said. "It is during those thirty
days I store up life and energy for the remaining
three hundred and thirty-five."
  Then we fell to discussing my departure, and
there followed an hour's talk on ways and means.
By eleven o'clock I had a list of everything I could
possibly need which would contribute to my com-
fort or well being. But there was one thing more;
one supreme thing. All that evening I had
                        17

 



A MAID OF THE KENTUCKY HILLS



been trying to speak it, and could n't. Now we
were sitting side by side at the table where we had
made my list, and suddenly courage came. I
clasped the ham-like hand lying close to mine, and
looking steadily and beseechingly into my friend's
eyes, said:
  "'Crombie, go with me! I don't mean go to
stay. I 'm not such a miserable, snuffling coward as
that. But companion me there-show me the way
-help me get established. Two days-not longer.
That country is new to me. Cedarton would take
me for an escaped lunatic if I should apply at a liv-
ery stable for a wagon to take me and my effects
to a shack which used to stand on the slope of Bald
Knob. Don't you see' The people know you,
and a word from you would fix it all right. I'm
your patient. But more than that, 'Crombie, is
having your good old self with me. Just come to
the shack with me, help me place my things, hearten
me up by your good man-talk, make me believe and
know that I am on the right track. Just two days.
Won't you do it, 'Crombie"
  I knew that I was asking a great deal, probably
more than I should. It would seem that it was
enough for one man to show another where bodily
salvation lay, without taking him by the hand and
leading him to it. And forty-eight hours from town
                      18

 


I GO TO 'CROMBIE AGAIN



now meant a monetary loss to the man beside me.
But God made men like Abercrombie Dane for other
purposes than money getting.
  Now he gave me the sweetest smile I have ever
seen on any face except my mother's, as he laid his
other huge hand over mine.
  "Yes, I '11 go with you, my son," he said.



19


 










CHAPTER THREE



  IN WHICH I FIND A LODGE IN THE WILDERNESS

J AM here.
      'Crombie came with me to Cedarton, engaged
    two light, serviceable wagons to convey us and
my effects, and then drove out here with me to help
me get settled. We reached Bald Knob just as the
sun was setting yesterday afternoon. The drive
out from town was beautiful. Neither talked
much on the trip. I could n't, and 'Crombie seemed
to be thinking. The main highway, which we trav-
eled for a number of miles, was made of gravel,
brought from a considerable stream which, I learn,
runs somewhere nearabout. When we left the
road, our way became quite rough. It was merely
a succession of knob paths, which had been broad-
ened enough for the passage of four-wheeled vehicles.
As we went deeper and deeper into the wood, the
scenery became wilder and grander. We saw vast
ravines, where the earth shore straight down for
many feet; tortuous channels where the fierce rains
                       20

 



I FIND A LODGE IN THE WILDERNESS
had plowed a passage to lower ground; trees of
all description growing everywhere, while shrubs,
creepers and vines interlaced and fought silently for
supremacy. Once we passed for nearly half a mile
along a broad, shallow stream with a slate bed,
bordered on one side by a gigantic, leaden, serrated
slate cliff whereon some patches of early moss
gleamed greenly bright, fed by the moisture which
filtered through the overlapping strata. This cliff
was somber; it was almost like a shadow cast upon
us. But when we had passed it the sunshine came
sweeping gloriously through a gap in the hills, and
I felt my spirit leap up gratefully to meet it.
  We could see Bald Knob for miles before we
reached it, and as we drove along, each smoking,
neither talking, I found that my eyes wandered time
and again to the bare, conical cap toward which we
were creeping. I was wondering with all the soul
of me if I could meet the test, now that it stared me
in the face. It was one thing to sit in 'Crombie's
leather chair and decide comfortably upon this
course, and another thing to see myself approaching
a hut in the midst of a primeval forest-and to think
that I was going to live alone there for a twelve-
month! I know my face would not have made a
good model for a picture of Hope, as the two wagons
drew up in the ravine which partially circled the
                       21

 



A MAID OF THE KENTUCKY HILLS



enormous hill whereon 'Crombie had said a shack
had at one time stood. At length we found a sort
of road-it was more an opening through the dense
undergrowth than anything else-and by dint of
much urging from the drivers, and frequent rests,
we came at last to a little plateau, perhaps a quarter
of an acre in extent, not quite half way up the knob.
On the farther side of the plateau was a small build-
ing, resting at the base of a sheer wall of stone and
earth.
  It was then 'Crombie shook off the quiet mood
he had shared with me the greater part of the jour-
ney, and became hilarious. He hallooed, laughed,
joked and capered about like a schoolboy on a frolic,
and not to hurt the dear fellow I pretended to fall
in with his mood. I really felt as if the world was
rapidly drawing to an end.
  Last night we could do nothing but make ourselves
comfortable as possible, and go to bed early. To-
day we have worked hard, and obtained results. I
could n't have got settled without 'Crombie. He
has tact, ingenuity, invention, and did most of the
hard work. He said it would be better for me not
to exert myself too much, which sounds silly, con-
sidering that my bodily measurements would have
almost equaled his own.
  Now he and the drivers and the horses and the
                       22

 



I FIND A LODGE IN THE WILDERNESS



wagons are gone. A half-hour ago I caught my
last glimpse of him between a scrub oak and a cedar.
He was looking back, saw me, waved his arm pro-
digiously, sent up a hearty hail, and disappeared.
I stood for thirty minutes without stirring from my
tracks. Then from afar off, through the wonder-
fully still twilight air, I heard a voice singing. The
words were lost because of the distance, but the tune
was familiar. It was a rollicking, foolish thing we
had sung at college. 'Crombie was sending it to
me as a last message, to cheer me up. I inclined
my ear desperately to the welcome sound. I held my
breath as it fell fainter and fainter, now broken,
now barely audible. At length, strain my ears as
I would, it was lost.
  But another sound had taken its place. The sun
was down, and now, at twilight, the Harpist of the
Wood awoke and touched his multitudinous strings.
He was in gentle mood to-day; a mood of dreams
and revery. The melody was barely audible; just
a stirring, a breath. But it stole upon my ears as
something wonderful, and sweet, and holy. I had
never heard anything at all similar. I stood en-
tranced, listening to the ghostly gamut lightly
plucked from the bare limbs and twigs of the hardy
trees which had not yet responded to the season's
call; from the slender green needles of the pine and
                       23

 



A MAID OF THE KENTUCKY HILLS



the denser plumes which clothed the cedar, and of-
fered to me. As I hearkened to the elfin harmony
I became conscious of a certain peace. The bound-
less solitudes which stretched unbroken in every di-
rection did not seem forbidding and oppressive as I
had sensed them when traveling. A subtle kinship
with the wind, and the trees, and the earth awoke
in my mind, and in some vague way which brought
a thrill with it I felt that I had come home. All
these things which I had feared grew quite close at
this twilight hour, and I imagined they came with
pleading, welcoming hands, as to a long lost son or
brother who was much beloved. Then as I raised
my head a cool, soft bieeze smote my face and rushed
up my nostrils, and I smelt the elusive. invigorating
tang of the evergreens. I smiled, and