Zane Grey Read Online Free PDF Page B

over the hill-tops, the crescent moon peeped
above the wooded fringe of the western bluffs.
    "Hard an' fast she is," sang out Jeff Lynn, as he fastened the rope
to a tree at the head of a small island. "All off now, and' we'll
hev' supper. Thar's a fine spring under yon curly birch, an' I
fetched along a leg of deer-meat. Hungry, little 'un?"
    He had worked hard all day steering the rafts, yet Nell had seen him
smiling at her many times during the journey, and he had found time
before the early start to arrange for her a comfortable seat. There
was now a solicitude in the frontiersman's voice that touched her.
    "I am famished," she replied, with her bright smile. "I am afraid I
could eat a whole deer."
    They all climbed the sandy slope, and found themselves on the summit
of an oval island, with a pretty glade in the middle surrounded by
birches. Bill, the second raftsman, a stolid, silent man, at once
swung his axe upon a log of driftwood. Mr. Wells and Jim walked to
and fro under the birches, and Kate and Nell sat on the grass
watching with great interest the old helmsman as he came up from the
river, his brown hands and face shining from the scrubbing he had
given them. Soon he had a fire cheerfully blazing, and after laying
out the few utensils, he addressed himself to Joe:
    "I'll tell ye right here, lad, good venison kin be spoiled by bad
cuttin' and cookin'. You're slicin' it too thick. See—thar! Now
salt good, an' keep outen the flame; on the red coals is best."
    With a sharpened stick Jeff held the thin slices over the fire for a
few moments. Then he laid them aside on some clean white-oak chips
Bill's axe had provided. The simple meal of meat, bread, and
afterward a drink of the cold spring water, was keenly relished by
the hungry voyagers. When it had been eaten, Jeff threw a log on the
fire and remarked:
    "Seein' as how we won't be in redskin territory fer awhile yit, we
kin hev a fire. I'll allow ye'll all be chilly and damp from
river-mist afore long, so toast yerselves good."
    "How far have we come to-day?" inquired Mr. Wells, his mind always
intent on reaching the scene of his cherished undertaking.
    "'Bout thirty-odd mile, I reckon. Not much on a trip, thet's sartin,
but we'll pick up termorrer. We've some quicker water, an' the rafts
hev to go separate."
    "How quiet!" exclaimed Kate, suddenly breaking the silence that
followed the frontiersman's answer.
    "Beautiful!" impetuously said Nell, looking up at Joe. A quick flash
from his gray eyes answered her; he did not speak; indeed he had
said little to her since the start, but his glance showed her how
glad he was that she felt the sweetness and content of this wild
land.
    "I was never in a wilderness before," broke in the earnest voice of
the young minister. "I feel an almost overpowering sense of
loneliness. I want to get near to you all; I feel lost. Yet it is
grand, sublime!"
    "Here is the promised land—the fruitful life—Nature as it was
created by God," replied the old minister, impressively.
    "Tell us a story," said Nell to the old frontiersman, as he once
more joined the circle round the fire.
    "So, little 'un, ye want a story?" queried Jeff, taking up a live
coal and placing it in the bowl of his pipe. He took off his
coon-skin cap and carefully laid it aside. His weather-beaten face
beamed in answer to the girl's request. He drew a long and audible
pull at his black pipe, and send forth slowly a cloud of white
smoke. Deliberately poking the fire with a stick, as if stirring
into life dead embers of the past, he sucked again at his pipe, and
emitted a great puff of smoke that completely enveloped the grizzled
head. From out that white cloud came his drawling voice.
    "Ye've seen thet big curly birch over thar—thet 'un as bends kind
of sorrowful like. Wal, it used to stand straight an' proud. I've
knowed thet tree all the years I've navigated this river, an' it
seems natural like to me thet it now droops dyin', fer it shades the
grave of as young,