The Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come | Page 4

now. I don't believe You keer much and seems
like I bring ever'body bad luck: an' I'm a-goin' to live up hyeh on the
mountain jes' as long as I can. I don't want you to think I'm
a-complainin'--fer I ain't. Only hit does seem sort o' curious that You'd
let me be down hyah--with me a-keerint fer nobody now, an' nobody
a-keerin' fer me. But Thy ways is inscrutable--leastwise, that's whut the
circuit-rider says--an' I ain't got a word more to say--Amen."
Chad rose then and Jack, who had sat perfectly still, with his head
cocked to one side, and his ears straight forward in wonder over this
strange proceeding, sprang into the air, when Chad picked up his gun,
and, with a joyful bark, circled a clump of bushes and sped back,
leaping as high as the little fellow's head and trying to lick his face--for
Jack was a rover, too.
The sun was low when the two waifs turned their backs upon it, and the
blue shadows in valley and ravine were darkening fast. Down the spur
they went swiftly--across the river and up the slope of Pine Mountain.
As they climbed, Chad heard the last faint sound of a cow-bell far
below him and he stopped short, with a lump in his throat that hurt.
Soon darkness fell, and, on the very top, the boy made a fire with his
flint and steel, cooked a little bacon, warmed his corn-pone, munched
them and, wrapping his blanket around him and letting Jack curl into
the hollow of his legs and stomach, turned his face to the kindly stars
and went to sleep.
CHAPTER 2
FIGHTING THEIR WAY
Twice, during the night, Jack roused him by trying to push himself
farther under the blanket and Chad rose to rebuild the fire. The third
time he was awakened by the subtle prescience of dawn and his eyes
opened on a flaming radiance in the east. Again from habit he started to
spring hurriedly to his feet and, again sharply conscious, he lay down
again. There was no wood to cut, no fire to rekindle, no water to carry

from the spring, no cow to milk, no corn to hoe; there was nothing to
do--nothing. Morning after morning, with a day's hard toil at a man's
task before him, what would he not have given, when old Jim called
him, to have stretched his aching little legs down the folds of the thick
feather-bed and slipped back into the delicious rest of sleep and dreams?
Now he was his own master and, with a happy sense of freedom, he
brushed the dew from his face and, shifting the chunk under his head,
pulled his old cap down a little more on one side and closed his eyes.
But sleep would not come and Chad had his first wonder over the
perverse result of the full choice to do, or not to do. At once, the first
keen savor of freedom grew less sweet to his nostrils and, straightway,
he began to feel the first pressure of the chain of duties that was to be
forged for him out of his perfect liberty, link by link, and he lay
vaguely wondering.
Meanwhile, the lake of dull red behind the jagged lines of rose and
crimson that streaked the east began to glow and look angry. A sheen
of fiery vapor shot upward and spread swiftly over the miracle of mist
that had been wrought in the night. An ocean of it and, white and thick
as snowdust, it filled valley, chasm, and ravine with mystery and
silence up to the dark jutting points and dark waving lines of range
after range that looked like breakers, surged up by some strange new
law from an under-sea of foam; motionless, it swept down the valleys,
poured swift torrents through high gaps in the hills and one long
noiseless cataract over a lesser range--all silent, all motionless, like a
great white sea stilled in the fury of a storm. Morning after morning,
the boy had looked upon just such glory, calmly watching the mist part,
like the waters, for the land, and the day break, with one phrase, "Let
there be light," ever in his mind--for Chad knew his Bible. And, most
often, in soft splendor, trailing cloud-mist, and yellow light leaping
from crest to crest, and in the singing of birds and the shining of leaves
and dew--there was light.
But that morning there was a hush in the woods that Chad understood.
On a sudden, a light wind scurried through the trees and showered the
mistdrops down. The smoke from his fire shot through the low
undergrowth, without rising, and the starting mists seemed to clutch

with long, white fingers at the tree-tops, as