Eben Holden | Page 8

distance I could hear a strange, wild cry, and I asked what it was and
Uncle Eb whispered back,' 's a loon.' Down the side of the mountain a
shrill bark rang in the timber and that was a fox, according to my
patient oracle. Anon we heard the crash and thunder of a falling tree
and a murmur that followed in the wake of the last echo.
'Big tree fallin'!' said Uncle Eb, as he lay gaping. 'It has t' break a way t'
the ground an' it must hurt. Did ye notice how the woods tremble? If
we was up above them we could see the hole thet tree hed made. Jes'
like an open grave till the others hev filed it with their tops.'
My ears had gone deaf with drowsiness when a quick stir in the body of
Uncle Eb brought me back to my senses. He was up on his elbow
listening and the firelight had sunk to a glimmer. Fred lay shivering and
growling beside me. I could hear no other sound.
'Be still,' said Uncle Eb, as he boxed the dog's ears. Then he rose and
began to stir the fire and lay on more wood. As the flame leaped and
threw its light into the tree-tops a shrill cry, like the scream of a
frightened woman, only louder and more terrible to hear brought me to
my feet, crying. I knew the source of it was near us and ran to Uncle Eb
in a fearful panic.
'Hush, boy,' said he as it died away and went echoing in the far forest.
'I'll take care o' you. Don't be scairt. He's more 'fraid uv us than we are
o' him. He's makin' off now.'
We heard then a great crackling of dead brush on the mountain above
us. It grew fainter as we listened. In a little while the woods were silent.

'It's the ol' man o' the woods,' said Uncle Eb. 'E's out takin' a walk.'
'Will he hurt folks?' I enquired.
'Tow!' he answered, 'jest as harmless as a kitten.'
Chapter 3
Naturally there were a good many things I wanted to know about 'the
ol' man o' the woods,' but Uncle Eb would take no part in any further
conversation.
So I had to lie down beside him again and think out the problem as best
I could. My mind was never more acutely conscious and it gathered
many strange impressions, wandering in the kingdom of Fear, as I
looked up at the tree-tops. Uncle Eb had built a furious fire and the
warmth of it made me sleepy at last. Both he and old Fred had been
snoring a long time when I ceased to hear them. Uncle Eb woke me at
daylight, in the morning, and said we must be off to find the trail. He
left me by the fire a little while and went looking on all sides and came
back no wiser. We were both thirsty and started off on rough footing,
without stopping to eat. We climbed and crawled for hours, it seemed
to me, and everywhere the fallen tree trunks were heaped in our way.
Uncle Eb sat down on one of them awhile to rest.
'Like the bones o' the dead,' said he, as he took a chew of tobacco and
picked at the rotten skeleton of a fallen tree. We were both pretty well
out of breath and of hope also, if I remember rightly, when we rested
again under the low hanging boughs of a basswood for a bite of
luncheon. Uncle Eb opened the little box of honey and spread some of
it on our bread and butter. In a moment I noticed that half a dozen bees
had lit in the open box.
'Lord Harry! here's honey bees,' said he, as he covered the box so as to
keep them in, and tumbled everything else into the basket. 'Make haste
now, Willie, and follow me with all yer might,' he added.
In a minute he let out one of the bees, and started running in the

direction it flew. It went but a few feet and then rose into the tree-top.
'He's goin' t' git up into the open air,' said Uncle Eb. 'But I've got his
bearins' an' I guess he knows the way all right.'
We took the direction indicated for a few minutes and then Uncle Eb let
out another prisoner. The bee flew off a little way and then rose in a
slanting course to the tree-tops. He showed us, however, that we were
looking the right way.
'Them little fellers hev got a good compass,' said Uncle Eb, as we
followed the line of the bees. 'It p'ints home ev'ry time, an' never makes