DRi and I | Page 5

breakfast. "Tracks bigger 'n a griddle! Smelt the mutton,
mos' likely."
"Like mutton?" I inquired.
"Yis-sir-ee, they dew," said he. "Kind o' mince-pie fer 'em. Like
deer-meat, tew. Snook eroun' the ponds efter dark. Ef they see a deer 'n
the water they wallop 'im quicker 'n lightnin'; jump right in k'slap 'n' tek
'im."
We were off at sunrise, on a road that grew rougher every mile. At
noon we came to a river so swollen as to make a dangerous ford. After
dinner my father waded in, going hips under where the water was deep
and swift. Then he cut a long pole and took my mother on his shoulders
and entered the broad stream, steadying himself with the pole. When
she had got down safe on the other side, he came back for grandmother
and my sisters, and took them over in the same way. D'ri, meanwhile,
bound up the feather beds and carried them on his head, leaving the dog
and me to tend the sheep. All our blankets and clothing were carried
across in the same manner. Then I mounted the cart, with my rooster,
lashing the oxen till they took to the stream. They had tied the
bell-wether to the axle, and, as I started, men and dog drove the sheep
after me. The oxen wallowed in the deep water, and our sheep, after
some hesitation, began to swim. The big cart floated like a raft part of
the way, and we landed with no great difficulty. Farther on, the road

became nothing better than a rude trail, where, frequently, we had to
stop and chop through heavy logs and roll them away. On a steep
hillside the oxen fell, breaking the tongue, and the cart tipped sidewise
and rolled bottom up. My rooster was badly flung about, and began
crowing and flapping as the basket settled. When I opened it, he flew
out, running for his life, as if finally resolved to quit us. Fortunately, we
were all walking, and nobody was hurt. My father and D'ri were busy
half a day "righting up," as they called it, mending the tongue and cover,
and getting the cart on its wheels and down the steep pitch.
After two days of trail travel we came out on the Chateaugay road,
stopping awhile to bait our sheep and cattle on the tame grass and
tender briers. It was a great joy to see the clear road, with here and
there a settler's cabin, its yard aglow with the marigold, the hollyhock,
and the fragrant honeysuckle. We got to the tavern at Chateaugay about
dusk, and put up for the night, as becomes a Christian.
Next afternoon we came to rough roads again, camping at sundown
along the shore of a noisy brook. The dog began to bark fiercely while
supper was making, and scurried off into a thicket.
D'ri was stooping over, cooking the meat. He rose and listened.
"Thet air dog's a leetle scairt," said he. "Guess we better go 'n' see whut
's the matter."
He took his rifle and I my sword,--I never thought of another
weapon,--making off through the brush. The dog came whining to D'ri
and rushing on, eager for us to follow. We hurried after him, and in a
moment D'ri and the dog, who were ahead of me, halted suddenly.
"It 's a painter," said D'ri, as I came up. "See 'im in thet air tree-top. I 'll
larrup 'im with Ol' Beeswax, then jes' like es not he 'll mek some music.
Better grab holt o' the dog. 'T won't dew fer 'im to git tew rambunctious,
er the fust thing he knows he won't hev no insides in 'im."
I could see the big cat clinging high in the top boughs of a birch and
looking calmly down at us. The tree-top swayed, quivering, as it held

the great dun beast. My heart was like to smother me when D'ri raised
his rifle and took aim. The dog broke away at the crack of it. The
painter reeled and spat; then he came crashing through the branches,
striking right and left with his fore paws to save himself. He hit the
ground heavily, and the dog was on him. The painter lay as if dead.
Before I could get near, Rover began shaking him by the neck. He
came to suddenly, and struck the dog with a front claw, dragging him
down. A loud yelp followed the blow. Quick as a flash D'ri had caught
the painter by the tail and one hind leg. With a quick surge of his great,
slouching shoulders, he flung him at arm's-length. The lithe body
doubled on a tree trunk, quivered, and sank down, as the dog came free.
In a jiffy I