The Call of the Cumberlands - Page 35/205

From time to time that day, neighbors had ridden up to Spicer South's

stile, and drawn rein for gossip. These men brought bulletins as to the

progress of the hounds, and near sundown, as a postscript to their

information, a volley of gunshot signals sounded from a mountain top.

No word was spoken, but in common accord the kinsmen rose from their

chairs, and drifted toward their leaning rifles.

"They're a-comin' hyar," said the head of the house, curtly. "Samson

ought ter be home. Whar's Tam'-rack?"

No one had noticed his absence until that moment, nor was he to be

found. A few minutes later, Samson's figure swung into sight, and his

uncle met him at the fence.

"Samson, I've done asked ye all the questions I'm a-goin' ter ask ye,"

he said, "but them dawgs is makin' fer this house. They've jest been

sighted a mile below."

Samson nodded.

"Now"--Spicer South's face hardened--"I owns down thar ter the road.

No man kin cross that fence withouten I choose ter give him leave. Ef

ye wants ter go indoors an' stay thar, ye kin do hit--an' no dawg ner

no man hain't a-goin' ter ask ye no questions. But, ef ye sees fit ter

face hit out, I'd love ter prove ter these hyar men thet us Souths

don't break our word. We done agreed ter this truce. I'd like ter

invite 'em in, an' let them damn dawgs sniff round the feet of every

man in my house--an' then, when they're plumb teetotally damn

satisfied, I'd like ter tell 'em all ter go ter hell. Thet's the way I

feels, but I'm a-goin' ter do jest what ye says."

Lescott did not overhear the conversation in full, but he saw the old

man's face work with suppressed passion, and he caught Samson's louder

reply.

"When them folks gets hyar, Uncle Spicer, I'm a-goin' ter be a-settin'

right out thar in front. I'm plumb willin' ter invite 'em in." Then,

the two men turned toward the house.

Already the other clansmen had disappeared noiselessly through the

door or around the angles of the walls. The painter found himself alone

in a scene of utter quiet, unmarred by any note that was not peaceful.

He had seen many situations charged with suspense and danger, and he

now realized how thoroughly freighted was the atmosphere about Spicer

South's cabin with the possibilities of bloodshed. The moments seemed

to drag interminably. In the expressionless faces that so quietly

vanished; in the absolutely calm and businesslike fashion in which,

with no spoken order, every man fell immediately into his place of

readiness and concealment, he read an ominous portent that sent a

current of apprehension through his arteries. Into his mind flashed all

the historical stories he had heard of the vendetta life of these

wooded slopes, and he wondered if he was to see another chapter enacted

in the next few minutes, while the June sun and soft shadows drowsed so

quietly across the valley.