Eben Holden | Page 6

Mebbe tellin' o' what's
happened 'em. Been a hard day fer them little folks. Terrible flood in
their country. Everyone on em hed t' git up a steeple quick 'she could er
be drownded. They hev their troubles an' they talk 'bout 'em, too.'
'What do they file their saws for?' I enquired.
'Well, ye know,' said he, 'where they live the timber's thick an' they hev
hard work clearin' t' mek a home.'
I was getting too sleepy for further talk. He made his way from field to
field, stopping sometimes to look off at the distant mountains then at
the sky or to whack the dry stalks of mullen with his cane. I remember
he let down some bars after a long walk and stepped into a smooth
roadway. He stood resting a little while, his basket on the top bar, and
then the moon that I had been watching went down behind the broad
rim of his hat and I fell into utter forgetfulness. My eyes opened on a
lovely scene at daylight Uncle Eb had laid me on a mossy knoll in a bit
of timber and through an opening right in front of us I could see a
broad level of shining water, and the great green mountain on the
further shore seemed to be up to its belly in the sea.
'Hello there!' said Uncle Eb; 'here we are at Lake Champlain.'
I could hear the fire crackling and smell the odour of steeping tea.
'Ye flopped 'round like a fish in thet basket,' said Uncle Eb. ''Guess ye
must a been drearnin' O' bears. Jumped so ye scairt me. Didn't know
but I had a wil' cat on my shoulders.'
Uncle Eb had taken a fish-line out of his pocket and was tying it to a
rude pole that he had cut and trinmed with his jack-knife.
'I've found some crawfish here,' he said, 'an' I'm goin' t' try fer a bite on
the p'int O' rocks there.'
'Goin' t' git some fish, Uncle Eb?' I enquired.

'Wouldn't say't I was, er wouldn't say't I wasn't,' he answered. 'Jes goin'
t' try.'
Uncle Eb was always careful not to commit himself on a doubtful point.
He had fixed his hook and sinker in a moment and then we went out on
a rocky point nearby and threw off into the deep water. Suddenly Uncle
Eb gave a jerk that brought a groan out of him and then let his hook go
down again, his hands trembling, his face severe.
'By mighty! Uncle Eb,' he murtered to himself, 'I thought we hed him
thet time.'
He jerked again presently, and then I could see a tug on the line that
made me jump. A big fish came thrashing into the air in a minute. He
tried to swing it ashore, but the pole bent and the fish got a fresh hold
of the water and took the end of the pole under. Uncle Eb gave it a lift
then that brought it ashore and a good bit of water with it. I remember
how the fish slapped me with its wet tail and sprinkled my face shaking
itself between my boots. It was a big bass and in a little while we had
three of them. Uncle Eb dressed them and laid them over the fire on a
gridiron of green birch, salting them as they cooked. I remember they
went with a fine relish and the last of our eggs and bread and butter
went with them.
Our breakfast over, Uncle Eb made me promise to stay with Fred and
the basket while he went away to find a man who could row us across.
In about an hour I heard a boat coming and the dog and I went out on
the point of rocks where we saw Uncle Eb and another man, heading
for us, half over the cove. The bow bumped the rocks beneath us in a
minute. Then the stranger dropped his oars and stood staring at me and
the dog.
'Say, mister,' said he presently, 'can't go no further. There's a reward
offered fer you an' thet boy.'
Uncle Eb called him aside and was talking to him a long time.
I never knew what was said, but they came at last and took us into the

boat and the stranger was very friendly.
When we had come near the landing on the 'York State' side, I
remember he gave us our bearmgs.
'Keep t' the woods,' he said, 'till you're out o' harm's way. Don't go near
the stage road fer a while. Ye'll find a store a little way up the mountain.
Git yer provisions there an' about eighty rod farther ye'll strike the trail.
It'll take ye