What Might Have Been Expected | Page 7

they reached the village, and Uncle Braddock went
over the fields to his cabin, Kate ran into the house, carrying her bag
with ease, for she was excited by the hope that Harry had come home
by some shorter way, and that she should find him in the house.
But there was no Harry there. And soon it was night, and yet he did not
come.
Matters now looked serious, and about nine o'clock Mr. Loudon, with
two of the neighbors, started out into the woods to look for Aunt
Matilda's young guardian.
Kate's mother was away on a visit to her relations in another county,
and so the little girl passed the night on the sofa in the parlor, with a
colored woman asleep on the rug before the fireplace. Kate would not
go to bed. She determined to stay awake until Harry should come home.
But the sofa-cushions became more and more pleasant, and very soon
she was dreaming that Harry had shot a giraffe, and had skinned it, and

had stuffed the skin full of sumac-leaves, and that he and she were
pulling it through the woods, and that the legs caught in the trees and
they could not get it along, and then she woke up. It was bright daylight.
But Harry had not come!
There was no news. Mr. Loudon and his friends were still absent. Poor
Kate was in despair, and could not touch the breakfast, which was
prepared at the usual hour.
About nine o'clock a company of negro sumac gatherers appeared on
the road which passed Mr. Loudon's house. It was a curious party. On a
rude cart, drawn by two little oxen, was a pile of bags filled with
sumac-leaves, which were supported by poles stuck around the cart and
bound together by ropes. On the top of the pile sat a negro, plying a
long whip and shouting to the oxen. Behind the cart, and on each side
of it, were negroes, men and women, carrying huge bales of sumac on
their heads. Bags, pillow-cases, bed-ticks, sheets and coverlets had
been called into requisition to hold the precious leaves. Here was a
woman with a great bundle on her head, which sank down so as to
almost entirely conceal her face; and near her was an old man who
supported on his bare head a load that looked heavy enough for a horse.
Even little children carried bundles considerably larger than themselves,
and all were laughing and talking merrily as they made their way to the
village store at the cross-roads.
Kate ran eagerly out to question these people. They must certainly have
seen Harry.
The good-natured negroes readily stopped to talk with Kate. The
ox-driver halted his team, and every head-burdened man, woman, and
child clustered around her, until it seemed as if sumac clouds had
spread between her and the sky, and had obscured the sun.
But no one had seen Harry. In fact, this company, with the accumulated
proceeds of a week's sumac gathering, had come from a portion of the
county many miles from Crooked Creek, and of course, they could
bring no news to Kate.

CHAPTER V.
THE TURKEY-HUNTER.
When Harry left Kate, he quietly walked by the side of Crooked Creek,
keeping his eyes fixed on the tracks of the strange animal, and his
thumb on the hammer of the right-hand barrel of his gun. Before long
the tracks disappeared, and disappeared, too, directly in front of a hole
in the bank; quite a large hole, big enough for a beaver or an otter. This
was capital luck! Harry got down on his hands and knees and examined
the tracks. Sure enough, the toes pointed toward the hole. It must be in
there!
Harry cocked his gun and sat and waited. He was as still as a dead
mouse. There was no earthly reason why the creature should not come
out, except perhaps that it might not want to come out. At any rate, it
could not know that Harry was outside waiting for it.
He waited a long time without ever thinking how the day was passing
on; and it began to be a little darkish, just a little, before he thought that
perhaps he had better go back to Kate.
But it might be just coming out, and what a shame to move! A skin that
would bring five dollars was surely worth waiting for a little while
longer, and he might never have such another chance. He certainly had
never had such a one before.
And so he still sat and waited, and pretty soon he heard something. But
it was not in the hole--not near him at all. It was farther along the creek,
and sounded like the footsteps of some one