# Hell-Bent fer Heaven (1924)/Act 1

Layout 2
HELL BENT FER HEAVEN
ACT I
Interior of Matt Hunt’s home in the Carolina mountains. The walls and ceiling are of rough boards, smoked and stained with age. The furniture is old and hand-made.
The place is neat and home-like in the old-fashioned way. At the left, toward the rear, is a rough staircase with crude balustrade. Under the staircase, facing the right wall, is a small door opening into the cellar. To the right of this there is another door leading into the kitchen.
The outside door is in the rear wall and opens directly on a porch covered with flowering shrubs. A “Red Rambler” rose hangs over the doorway on a trellis. There are windows on each side of the door, through which you catch a glimpse of a river valley with mountains in the background. To the left of the door is a gun rack with ancient and modern firearms.
It is late afternoon and the bright sunlight, visible through the doors and windows, is tempered by the lengthening shadows. A bluish vapor hangs over the ​river, half concealing the distant peaks of the mountains.
Old David Hunt enters from without. He is a rugged, well-preserved man of eighty. His snow-white hair and beard contrast vividly with the ruddy glow of his face. The peculiar radiance of countenance that comes with serene old age is heightened in him by the brilliant sunlight, which brings into full relief a personality that is rich, humorous, and mellow without a touch of sentimentality. He carries an old muzzle-loading rifle, which he places in the gun rack after removing the percussion cap.
A moment later his daughter-in-law, Meg Hunt, a strong, active woman of forty-odd, enters from the kitchen, carrying an earthenware bowl full of garden peas.
Meg
Whew! I declar—it’s hot enough in that kitchen to brile bacon ’thout a fire! [She sits down and begins to shell peas.]
David
[Mops his face]
It’s hot ’nough everywhar to-day.
Meg
I reckon it ’ll storm ag’in afore night.
David
If it don’t it ’ll miss a good chance.
Meg
Whar you been?
David
Up along the river. I thought I might run across that hawk that’s been arter your young turkeys.
Meg
Did you see it?
David
[Seats himself and helps her shell peas]
Not close enough to speak to him. But I didn’t foller him fur, I thought I’d kinder like to be around when Sid gits home.
Meg
[Glances toward the door uneasily]
Seems quair they hain’t come yit. With Matt a-leavin’ here at daybreak they’d ought ha’ been home two hours ago.
David
Well, it takes time on a day like this. Matt ain’t a-goin’ to push them colts up the mountain this weather. An’ Sid, apt as not, didn’t git thar on time. He never ​wus a lad to be governed by clocks [chuckles softly] ner nothin’ else under the sun ’at I ever hyeard of!
Meg
I wonder what he’ll be like now! Mebby the war’s changed him!
David
Mebby so.
Meg
When it fust started I mind they wus lots in the papers about our soldiers a-goin’ into battle a-prayin’ an’ readin’ their Bibles. Sid allus wus good about readin’ his Bible.
David
[Chuckles slyly]
Yeh, ’specially the fightin’ parts. [She starts slightly and a shadow crosses her face] But don’t you worry about Sid. He’ll settle down. They’s plenty o’ time fer that. [Beaming with unconscious pride] I use to be jist like him when I was a lad, an’ now look at me. You don’t see me a-tearin’ around the country on hoss-back a-cussin’ an’ raisin’ Ole Ned.
Meg
No; but I wouldn’t put it past you if you had the strength.
David
Hey?
Meg
It’s your flesh that’s got religion, not your sperit.
David
[Laughs good-naturedly]
I ain’t denyin’ it, though I reckon you’d like it better if I ’us ashamed o’ havin’ been young an’ strong. You’re jist like all women, Meg. When they find a man’s got a little sap in him they think he’s headed straight fer the devil.
[Horses are heard in the distance. Meg springs up excitedly.]
Meg
Thar! I know that’s them!
David
It sounds like it—from here. [Shading his eyes with his hand, he looks up the river, while she peeps over his shoulder.] It’s Matt, all right, but I don’t see Sid.
Meg
[Turns away querulously]
Well, it’s no more ’n I expected! I’ve had a feelin’ ever sence they took him across that ocean that I’d never see him ag’in!
[Sid, dressed in civilian clothes, with khaki shirt and hat, enters from the kitchen, eating a large piece of pie. He is a handsome and vigorous young fellow, with the unmistakable slouch of the mountaineer.]
Sid
Hello, Mam!
Meg
Sid! [She hugs him, with tears in her eyes. He laughs and pats her on the back, taking another bite of pie.] What ’d you sneak in through the kitchen an’ skeer me like this fer? I thought you hadn’t come!
Sid
I didn’t sneak. I jist nachelly come around to the place whar the cookin’s done. [Shaking hands with David] H’lo, Gran’pap! How air you?
David
I can still lick any eighty-year-old man my size in the mountains if I can ketch him.
Sid
[Laughs and turns his attention to Meg again]
Well, Mam, it seems right nachel to see you ag’in. How you been makin’ out?
Meg
I’ve been jist about as common. I worried lots about you. An’ you ain’t a-lookin’ none too fat. I’ll bet you hain’t had nothin’ fit to eat sence you left home.
Sid
Shucks! I’m all right! Better ’n when I went away,
David
You ’pear to me to be about as sassy as ever. I reckon you knowed you ’us a hero?
Sid
Yeh, I read about it in the papers.
David
[Makes a face and spits ]
The things they’ve printed about you’s enough to make a healthy man spew! I’ll bet if the truth ’us knowed you didn’t do half as hard fightin’ as I done in the Confederate war!
Sid
[Grins mischievously]
You didn’t have as many notches on your gun when you got back.
David
Mebby I wusn’t as big a liar afore I went.
Sid
You didn’t have to be; you wusn’t a-goin’ to as big a war.
David
Size ain’t everything in a war! They was bigger men in the one I went to!
Sid
Well, I dunno. We had Pershin’ an’ Fotch.
David
[Contemptuously]
Pershin’ an’ Fotch! Chiggers an’ seed-ticks! Knee-high to a gnat ’longside o’ Stonewall Jackson an’ Robert E. Lee!
Meg
Lord! Sid hain’t no more ’n stepped in the house, an’ you start fightin’ your ole wars all over ag’in!
David
[Chuckles wisely]
She’s dis’p’inted in you, Sid. You’re too robustious to suit her. She’s been hopin’ you’d come back sorter peakin’ an’ pinin’ so she could mammy you an’ fatten you up.
Meg
[Looks at him quickly with a startled expression]
What ever put that notion in your head?
David
Well, I’ve noticed that you allus pay more attention to the runts among the pigs an’ chickens than you do to the healthy uns.
[Rufe appears at the top of the stairs, unobserved by the others. He is thirty, of medium height, with pale face and shifty, uncertain manner.]
Meg
They need more—jist like humans. When the Saviour was on earth he ministered to the halt an’ blind an’ didn’t bother about t’others. What’s the use in doin’ fer folks like you an’ Matt? You’ve neither of you ever been sick a day in your life.
David
I ain’t complainin’. A man cain’t have everything in this world. An’ as a constancy I’d ruther have a good stomach an’ sound sleep as affection from women.
Rufe
[Comes downstairs, smiling at David with an expression of great compassion and humility]
​I reckon that’s a hint that I’m bein’ treated too well here.
David
No; I didn’t even know you was in hearin’ distance, Rufe. I thought you ’us out thar ’tendin’ the store.
Rufe
Well, whether you meant it er not, I want you to know ’at I agree with you. I know I don’t deserve the blessin’s of a home like this an’ a woman in it that’s as good to me as my own mammy that died when I ’us little! If she’d ha’ lived I might ha’ been more deservin’.
Meg
Sid, you rickollect Rufe, don’t you, that use’ to work fer Joe Bedford down on Sandy Fork?
Sid
Shore I do. You’re the feller that’s been a-helpin’ Pa while I ’us away. [He shakes hands cordially. There is a suggestion of constraint in Rufe’s manner.] How’s your health?
Rufe
I cain’t brag on myself much.
Sid
What’s the trouble? You’re lookin’ all right.
Rufe
Yeh, I am, on the outside. The thing’s in here [taps himself on the stomach], whatever it is. I tried to git in the army arter you left, but they wouldn’t have me.
David
Fust I ever hyeard of it, Rufe.
Meg
[With a show of annoyance]
Well, it’s not the fust I’ve hyeard of it. Rufe don’t tell his business to everybody.
David
What post did you go to to git edzamined—if ’tain’t no secret?
Rufe
I wusn’t edzamined by no army doctor. I wus a-goin’ to be, but a man down at Pineville looked me over an’ said it wusn’t no use.
David
Wus he a doctor?
Rufe
[Evasively]
Not edzackly; but he had worked fer one an’ knowed how to edzamine folks.
David
[Chuckles]
Oh, I see! Like the man by playin’ the fiddle: he’d seed it done! Well, them army doctors wouldn’t ha’ been so pertickler, jedgin’ by some o’ the samples I seen that got by ’em.
Rufe
I hyeard they let the bars down toward the end. But I’d jist as soon stay out of a fight if I cain’t git in tell it’s over.
Sid
That’s the best time to git in.
Rufe
[Looks at him in surprise]
Didn’t you like fightin’? One o’ the papers here said as how you took to it like a fish to water.
Sid
[Laughs ironically]
Shore I did! It ’us pie to me!
David
That’s another lie, Sid! [Sid laughs.]
Rufe
Well, I reckon a man can have too much o’ anything. But I b’lieve I’d like war if I had the health to stand ​up under it. [David grunts incredulously.] I dunno why, but my mind seems to run nachelly to fightin’.
David
That’s because your legs ’ld run nachelly t’other way.
Meg
[Annoyed]
You’ve never seed ’em run, have you?
David
No; but he comes of a peaceful family. I mind his gran’daddy durin’ the Confederate war. He wus so peaceful that he knocked his front teeth out tell he couldn’t bite the ends offen the paper cater’ges we used then, so he wouldn’t have to go.
Rufe
He didn’t b’lieve in fightin’ about niggers! He’d ha’ fit all right if he’d had as much to fight fer as Sid had!
David
What did Sid fight fer? I’ll bet he don’t know.
Sid
Then you got another bet comin’. I fit to lick t’other side!
David
Well, you’re the fust un I’ve seed that knowed, an’ I’ve axed lots of ’em. An’ I reckon our men wusn’t the only ones. That gang o’ Germans that you got a medal fer ketchin’ must ha’ been kinder hazy in their minds about the needcessity o’ fightin’. [He pats himself significantly on the stomach] I’ll bet they had some sort o’ inside trouble—like Rufe.
Sid
[Laughing]
I know dern well they did!
Rufe
How’d you find it out, Sid? You couldn’t talk their talk, could you?
Sid
No, but I could tell by the way they acted. Soon as each seed t’other we both started to run. But I looked back first. When I seed they wus a-runnin’ away, too, I tuk after ’em a-hollerin’ an’ shootin’ like hell had broke loose, an’ the whole bunch surrendered!
Rufe
An’ they give you a medal fer it! Why, I could ha’ done that!
David
You might, Rufe, if you’d ha’ thought to look back. [He turns to Sid] I reckon their army had found out they wus peaceful folks an’ put ’em out thar to git ketched. The dam Yankees use’ to do that. An’ from what I’ve hyeard o’ these here Germans they’re jist a bastard breed o’ Yankees.
Meg
Whar is your medal, Sid?
Sid
I cain’t show it to you now. I busted the last button offen my drawers while ago an’ I got ’em pinned up with it.
[Matt Hunt, a vigorous mountaineer of forty-five, appears on the doorstep and begins stamping the mud off his boots. He carries a lap robe and a “slicker” across his arm.]
Sid
But here comes Pap. He’s got sompen I can show you. [To Matt] Ha’ you got that package fer Mam?
Matt
[Fumbling under the lap robe]
Yeh, it’s here som’ers.
Meg
What is it?
Matt
[Throwing the package into her lap]
You’ll have to ax Sid. He fetched it.
Sid
It’s some sort o’ female sompen that a French gal asked me to bring you. I dunno what you’d call it.
Meg
[Turning the package over doubtfully]
Umn! If all I’ve hyeard about them gals over thar’s so, I dunno’s I want it.
David
[Starts to take it]
Le’ me see it.
Meg
[Taking it away from him]
Yeh, I’ll bet you’d take it! [She opens the package gingerly and takes out a beautiful lace brassière.] La! Did she knit this herself?
Sid
I reckon so. She ’us allus a-piddlin’ at sompen like that.
Meg
[Holds it up to the light admiringly]
Umn-umph! It’s purty enough, but I hain’t the least notion what it’s fer!
David
Ahem! Does she look anything like her knittin’, Sid?
Sid
Yeh, some.
Meg
Well, I hope you cain’t see through her as easy. [Sid laughs.] You didn’t let her fool you up with her good looks, did you?
Sid
Well, I didn’t fetch her back with me, like some of ’em done.
David
If you had, I know a gal here that ’ld ha’ scratched her eyes out.
[Rufe rises nervously and crosses the room. Meg glances at him sympathetically.]
Matt
Whar you goin’, Rufe?
Rufe
Nowhere, I jist got tired o’ settin’ in one place.
David
[Laughs knowingly]
Rufe allus gits tired o’ the place whar he’s a-settin’ when you start talkin’ about Jude Lowry.
Meg
I don’t blame him. You talk so much about gals they ain’t nothin’ new left to say about ’em.
Rufe
I reckon they air jist about alike the world over. Wus the French uns after you all the time, Sid, same as them here?
Sid
I cain’t say ’at I ’us bothered by ’em much.
David
I’ll bet you wusn’t lonesome. An’ you won’t be here. They’re lots bolder ’n they wus when you left. They’s times now when I don’t feel safe myself. If I ’us your age I’d marry Jude Lowry er some other gal fer pertection. Give me a woman every time to fight a woman.
[At mention of Jude Lowry, Rufe gets up again and moves toward the door aimlessly.]
Matt
Air you jist changin’ your settin’ place ag’in, Rufe, er air you goin’ out to the store?
Meg
[With a sudden flare of temper]
What difference does it make to you which he’s a-doin’?
Matt
None in pertickler. Only I thought if he ’us a-goin’ out thar he could fetch Sid’s pack in when he come back.
Rufe
[With an expression of martyrdom]
Ail right, Matt, I’ll fetch it. O’ course what you hired me fer wus to tend the store. But I’ll be a nigger fer Sid—er anything else you ax me!
Matt
[Rises angrily]
What’s that you’re a-bellyachin’ about now?
Rufe
I ain’t a———
Matt
[Storming impatiently]
Air you a-goin’ to git that pack er not?
Rufe
Why, I jist told you I wus!
Meg
Didn’t you hear him say it? They ain’t no need in bawlin’ at him like that! He’s got feelin’s, like the rest of us!
Sid
Hold on, Paw. I don’t want to be the cause o’ no fracas. I’ve toted that ole pack all over the world an’ ’tain’t a-goin’ to hurt me to fetch it this much further.
Matt
No, you stay whar you air! He’s got out of enough work here!
Rufe
I ain’t a-tryin’ to git out o’ nothin’! I’m a-tryin’ hard to do anything you ax me, no matter what it is!
[He goes out.]
Matt
I never knowed nobody to git me r’iled up like he does. [To Sid] That’s the kind o’ help I’ve had while you ’us away.
Sid
Yeh, I’ve seed folks like him—kinder tetchy.
Meg
It’s enough to make him tetchy, with your paw an’ granpaw a-pickin’ on him all the time jist ’cause he ain’t as big an’ strong as they air.
David
You don’t ketch me an’ Matt a-pickin’ on chil’en jist ’cause they ain’t as big an’ strong as we air. I’ve noticed when folks gits picked on it’s gene’ly ’cause they deserve it.
Meg
You could git along ’ith Rufe if you tried.
Matt
Yeh, I expect we could if we laid awake nights figgerin’ how to keep from hurtin’ his feelin’s—like you do, ’Tain’t only he’s tetchy—though God knows I’m sick o’ hearin’ him bellyache—but he’s lazy er born tired, I dunno which. Why, he ain’t wuth his salt!
David
’Specially sence he got that camp-meetin’ brand o’ religion. I’ve never seed a man so hell-bent fer heaven as he is!
Rufe
[Enters with the pack and sets it down]
Thar ’tis, Sid.
Sid
Much obliged, Rufe.
[He takes the pack and opens it.]
Rufe
No ’casion. I’m glad to do anything I can to please Matt.
Matt
Well, I got jist one thing more fer you to do. I want you to pack up your duds an’ make tracks away from here.
[Rufe is dumfounded. He looks at Meg appealingly.]
Meg
Matt! You ain’t a-goin’ to turn him off at this time o’ year?
Matt
Course I am. I didn’t adopt him fer life when I hired him. I told him he could stay tell Sid come back.
Meg
But he cain’t git another clerkin’ job. An’ it’s too late to start a crap now.
Matt
He’d orter thought o’ that afore. He’s knowed fer a month that Sid wus comin’ home.
Rufe
He’s right, Meg. I might ha’ knowed this ’ld happen. [He goes toward Matt with a malicious expression] But I’m a-goin’ to tell you sompen fer your own good, Matt. God so loved the world that he give His only begotten Son to die so ’at everybody ’at wanted to might be saved. But you’ve never took advantage o’ His offer. I cain’t understand that in a close trader like you, Matt. If the offer o’ free salvation ’us a box o’ free terbacker fer the store you’d never let it git by. [Matt makes an angry move. Rufe backs away.] Understand, I’m a-sayin’ this in a true Christian sperit—fer your own good. The Scripture says to love our enemies an’ do good to them that despitefully uses us.
Matt
Dadburn you, I don’t want you a-lovin’ me, ner doin’ good to me, nuther!
Rufe
I know you don’t, Matt. But I cain’t help it—an’ you cain’t, neither! That’s one thing you ain’t the boss of!
Matt
[Menacingly]
Go on up an’ pack your duds an’ git out o’ here!
Rufe
[Backing away toward the stairs]
All right, Matt. You’re the boss o’ that. You can hector me an’ bully me about the things o’ this world, but you cain’t keep me from lovin’ your immortal soul. An’ you cain’t take away my reward which is in heaven. An’ you cain’t escape yourn—which ain’t!
[He disappears upstairs. Matt glares after him, his right arm trembling significantly.]
Meg
It’s the truth that hurts, Matt. Your reward ain’t in heaven.
Matt
[Raging inwardly]
I wish he’d go thar er som’ers an’ git hisn!
David
I cain’t make him out. If he ’us jist a plain hypocrite I’d know how to take him. But he pears to honestly b’lieve everybody’s got to be like him afore they’re saved.
Meg
Mebby they has got to be different from you an’ Matt.
Sid
Pap, if you don’t want him in the store, does it happen to be so’s you could let him finish out the summer at the sawmill?
David
Shucks, Sid! Don’t waste no worry on him. They ain’t money enough in the county to hire him to stay at a sawmill a week.
Matt
No, it’s too much like work. If he wants a job let him go to them city folks that’s a-puttin’ in that dam out here. They’ll take anything that comes along. An’ he’d mix in fine with them furriners.
Meg
You know he ain’t strong enough fer that sort o’ work.
Sid
This is your business, Paw, an’ I reckon you can ’tend to it ’thout any help from me. But I wisht you could see your way to keep him awhile longer.
Matt
What fer?
Sid
Well, I got some private affairs to look after.
Meg
An’ you’d orter have a chance to rest up, too.
Sid
Yeh, I would kinder like to spree around a little fer a change.
Matt
Well, if you want some time to yourself, I’ve stood Rufe two years. I reckon I can stand him another month. But I dunno what sort o’ private affairs you’ve got to look after.
Sid
If I told you they wouldn’t be private. [He glances at David with a humorous twinkle] Fer one thing, I need time to think up some tales to tell about how I won the war.
David
I reckon you’ve got enough thought up already.
Sid
I admit E got the makin’s o’ some good-sized uns. But I want to try ’em out on you an’ git ’em to runnin’ slick afore I swear to ’em. [He takes a large bottle from the pack and gives it to David] Here, Gran’pap! Any time you git in a fight an’ want to ketch t’other feller, jist take a swaller o’ that.
Meg
[Disapprovingly]
What is it—licker?
Sid
It’s one breed of it. The French call it cone-yack.
David
[Sniffs the cork]
It smells like it might be that.
Meg
Wus licker the best thing you could think of to bring your gran’pa?
David
[Laughing]
She’s afeard you’re a-startin’ me on my downward career, son. An’ you may be. I knowed a man once that started when he wus about my age—an’ he drunk hisself to death when he ’us a hundred an’ two!
Meg
Well, jist the same, he might ha’ thought o’ sompen better to bring you. [Looking through the things in the pack] Whar’s the Bible I give you? Didn’t you find room to fetch that?
Sid
Somebody stole it.
Meg
Not your Bible?
Sid
Yeh. They’ll steal anything, in the army.
Meg
Why, I never hyeard o’ sich a thing! An’ you went through the whole war like a heathen, ’thout so much as a Testyment?
David
The Baptis’ preacher here said they ’us men over thar a-givin’ ’em away to anybody ’at wanted ’em.
Sid
Yeh, but they never got up whar we wus till after the fightin’ ’us over. An’ I didn’t need one so bad then.
Voice
[Outside in the distance]
Hello!
Meg
That’s Andy ’ith the mail!
Sid
[Goes to the door and waves to him]
H’lo, Andy!
Andy
Well, I’ll be derned! Is that you, Sid?
Sid
A piece of me. Whyn’t you come on in an’ swop lies?
Andy
I’m skeered you’ll want too much boot, jedgin’ by the size o’ them they’ve been printin’ about you.
Sid
Don’t let that worry you none.
[Andy, a healthy young fellow, comes in. His face is slightly flushed with whisky, but he is not drunk.]
Andy
[Shakes hands cordially]
You lock healthy as a hell-cat!
Sid
Yeh, I can still eat—an’ drink some too when I can git it.
Andy
Don’t let not gittin’ it bother you. That’s all talk. I reckon you’re derned glad you went over?
Sid
I am now. But they ’us once er twice while I ’us thar I’d jist as soon ha’ been back.
Andy
You’re lucky. They hain’t been no time I wusn’t sorry I didn’t go.
Sid
What ’us the trouble? Wouldn’t they have you?
Andy
Have me, hell! They’d ha’ jumped at me! But Mam an’ Paw wheedled me into claimin’ edzemption so’s I could help cut that patch o’ timber up the river fer the gov’ment. An’ now I’m totin’ the mail.
Sid
Well, don’t be so down-hearted. Somebody’s got to tote it.
Andy
But, dam’ it all, I want a job that gives me more elbow room! Every time I look at that piddlin’ mail sack an’ think o’ what you’ve been through, I git so goddern mad at myself an’ everybody else ’at I feel like startin’ a war o’ my own right here in the mountains!
[While Andy is talking, Rufe comes downstairs with a small bag in his hand, At Andy’s suggestion of starting a war of his own he stops suddenly and stands as if rooted to the spot. Meg also moves uneasily and exchanges significant glances with Matt and David.]
David
Why don’t you? Rufe here says he’s sp’ilin’ fer a fight!
Andy
Rufe! Good Lord! If he ’us in hell he wouldn’t fight fire!
Rufe
Thank God, I’m not headed to’ard hell, like some folks!
Andy
I know you claimed edzemption when you j’ined the church. Well, every man to his likin’. But hereafter I’m a-goin’ to take what’s comin’ to me in this world an’ the next! An’ that ’minds me, afore I fergit it: have you got any forty-five ammynition in the store?
Rufe
Ax Matt. I ain’t a-workin’ here no longer.
Andy
What’s the matter? Lost your job?
Sid
That’s all fixed up, Rufe. I won’t be workin’ much fer a while an’ Paw says you can stay another month.
Matt
[Looks at Rufe questioningly]
That is, if he wants to stay bad ’nough to tend to his business?
Rufe
They ain’t no use axin’ me if I want to stay. I got nowhere else to go. As fer ’tendin’ to my business, I’ll do what I’ve allus tried to do, render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar’s an’ unto God the things that are God’s!
Sid
Then that’s settled. I dunno whose department the ammynition belongs to. But go ahead an’ git them caterdges fer Andy an’ I’ll come out an’ beat you both shootin’ ’ith this popgun here. [He takes a German pistol out of the pack.]
Andy
[Looks at the pistol]
You don’t call that thing a gun, do you?
Sid
No, it’s a Dutch peace-pipe.
David
I don’t believe I ever seed any like that. How does it work?
Sid
[Hands him the pistol]
It’s automatic. You pull the trigger and it goes right on spittin’ like a man chawin’ terbacker.
David
[Passing the pistol on to Matt]
Huh! I wouldn’t be ketched dead in the woods with it.
Sid
Why not?
David
Because it’s a insult to shootin’-men, that’s why! It’s built on the notion that you’re a-goin’ to miss all your fust shots!
Andy
How’d you git aholt of it, Sid?
Sid
I smoked a Dutchman outen it by provin’ to him that I ’us a peacefuler man ’n he wus.
Andy
Does it shoot any better ’n ourn?
Sid
That’s what I want to find out.
Andy
Hell! Hain’t you tried it yit?
Sid
Not from the hind end. The feller I got it from missed me the first shot.
Meg
[Eagerly, with a slight catch in her voice]
Did he surrender, Sid—an’ give it to you—after he’d shot at you?
Sid
N—no, not edzactly. [Quietly] But he didn’t have no further use fer it, so I stuck it in my pocket an’ fetched it along.
Meg
[With a sudden revulsion of feeling]
Thou shalt not kill!
Andy
Ner git killed if you can help it! [He starts toward the door.] Come on, Sid! We’ll soon find out whether this thing hits whar you hold her er not!
Meg
[With intense emotion]
No! Sid ain’t a-goin’!
Sid
[Looks at her, puzzled]
Why, Mam! What sort of a graveyard rabbit has crossed your path? Me an’ Andy use’ to have shootin’ matches ’thout you makin’ no fuss about it!
Meg
I don’t keer! I’ve seed enough shootin’ an’ fightin’ in my time! An’ I’ve hyeard enough talk about war!
Sid
’Tain’t a-goin’ to do no harm fer us to shoot at a spot on a tree!
Meg
’Tain’t a-goin’ to do no good! [With a sudden flare of passion] An’ I wisht you’d throw that pistol in the river! The man it belonged to had a mammy, too! Think how she feels—wherever she is!
Andy
If he had been to as many shootin’ matches as Sid, mebby you’d be the one that’s a-feelin’ that way!
Rufe
It wusn’t the shootin’ matches that saved Sid. It ’us the will o’ God.
Sid
Mebby so, Rufe. But I’ve noticed, other things bein’ ekal, God generally sides ’ith the feller that shoots the straightest.
Meg
Oh! Cain’t you talk o’ nothin’ but shootin’ an’ killin’? I wish I could go some place where I’d never hear guns mentioned ag’in as long as I live!
Rufe
You can! We can all go thar if we live right! [He hesitates and looks at Matt out of the corner of his eye] An’ that ’minds me, boys: if I ’us you I wouldn’t have no more shootin’ matches. It ’us at a shootin’ match that the feud fust started ’twixt your two gran’daddies. [In an instant the faces of the men become tense with amazement. Rufe is conscious of this, but continues with a show of innocence] An’ they ’us both fetched home on stretchers, ’long ’ith lots more o’ your kin on both sides, afore it ’us patched up. I know ’tain’t none o’ my business———
Matt
[His right fist trembling dangerously]
Then why the hell don’t you keep your mouth shut?
Rufe
[Cowering in fear]
I ’us only warnin’ ’em fer their own good! They’re frien’ly now an’ I want ’em to stay that way!
Matt
You’ve got a dam’ poor way o’ showin’ it! You know that’s sompen we don’t talk about here! If I didn’t know you ’us a born fool I’d———
Meg
He meant everything fer the best, Matt!
Matt
That’s what you allus say.
Rufe
All right, if you don’t want me to do you a good turn, I won’t. Hereafter they can shoot er do what they please, I won’t open my mouth!
Sid
You needn’t pester your mind about me an’ Andy, Rufe. We’ve knowed all about the war ’twixt our fam’lies sence we ’us knee-high. An’ it’s never made our trigger fingers itch none. Has it, Andy?
Andy
Not a durned bit! We nachelly hain’t talked about it, but I reckon we could if we had to.
Sid
I don’t reckon nothin’ about it; I know it! Me an’ you could talk about anything ’thout fightin’—’cept religion!
Andy
Ha, ha, ha! I’d even take a crack at that with you, fer I expect we’ve got about the same sort!
Sid
Well, my mouth ain’t no prayer-book an’ I don’t try to make it sound like one.
Andy
Me nother! You cain’t make a sheep outen a wild cat by tyin’ a bunch o’ wool to its tail.
David
You two young jackasses think you’re mighty smart a-runnin’ down religion! But I want to tell you sompen: I’ve lived in this ole world longer ’n both of you put together, an’ they ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of in bein’ a Christian!
Rufe
I’m glad to know you feel that way about it!
David
Hey! What’s that you said?
Andy
[Slyly, with an amused twinkle]
You hyeard what he said. He’s a-hintin’ that he didn’t know, from the way you behaved, that you was a Christian.
[David grips his stick and glares at Rufe.]
David
He won’t say that, not to my face! If he does, dadburn him, I’ll show him whether I’m a Christian or not!
Sid
[Laughs]
What ’ll you do, turn t’other cheek?
David
I might—once! Consoun you, I b’lieve you agree with him! You an’ Andy are so puffed up ’ith pride an’ wind that you think nobody but women an’ runts ever gits religion! But I’m here to tell you that I seed a preacher once right down thar in the Baptis’ church that could pick you both up by the scruff o’ the neck an’ shake you down to your nachel size!
Matt
An’ he didn’t ’pologize fer havin’ religion, nuther!
David
No, sir-ee, not by a jugful! The fust day big meetin’ started he picked out the wust sinner they wus in the congregation an’ p’inted his finger at his nose an’ told him right out in meetin’ that he ’us a-goin’ jist as straight to hell as if he ’us shot out of his own gun!
Sid
An’ d’you mean to say, Gran’pap, that you set thar an’ took it all ’thout a word?
David
Who told you it ’us me?
Sid
[Laughing]
Nobody, but I ’lowed it wus.
David
Well, you ’lowed right! But I didn’t set thar an’ take it. No, I ’us jist as much of a jackass as you an’ Andy. I riz up an’ walked out on the platform where he ’us a-standin’ an’ sez to him, sez I, “You’re a mighty big preacher! I can see that by lookin’ at you. But what I want to find out is whether your religion’s in ​proportion to your size!” An’ ’ith that I hauled away ’ith the flat o’ my hand an’ smacked him like all possessed on the right cheek! [He pauses dramatically.]
Andy
Well, wus his religion fool-proof?
David
I’m a-comin’ to that. I seed him grit his teeth an’ trimble from top to toe jist like a steam engine in britches! But he ketched hisself in time an’ turned t’other cheek! [He pauses again.]
Sid
An’ what ’d you do then?
David
I done jist what you er any other young jackass ’ld ha’ done ’ith Satan aggin’ him on: I smit him ag’in!
Sid
Ha, ha, ha! I reckon he turned ag’in?
David
I jedge not, fer when I come to they wus two men a-rubbin’ me, an’ he us a-goin’ right on preachin’ an’ explainin’ Scripture as cool as if nothin’ had happened! He said the Saviour never told us what ​to do after we’d turned t’other cheek once, for he took it fer granted any durn fool ’ld know! [Rufe shifts uneasily and starts to say something, but David glares at him and he subsides.] An’ ’ith that fer a text he whirled in an’ preached the best sermon I ever hyeard on the person o’ Christ! He said the reason so many folks thought Christ ’us a weak an’ womanish sort of a man ’us because they ’us runts theirselves an’ wanted Him to keep ’em in countenance. Then he took the Scripture, passage an’ verse, an’ proved jist the sort o’ man Christ wus! Now I’ll bet every one of you here thinks he used speritual power when he drove the thieves out o’ the temple! [He looks around at them triumphantly.] But, ’ey ganny, he didn’t!
Rufe
How do you know he didn’t?
David
B’cause he didn’t have to, that’s how! I never seed a man yit appeal fer speritual power when he could do it hisself!
Rufe
An’ did he turn the water into wine the same way?
David
No, that ’us a merricle. But if he’d ha’ been a weak, water-drinkin’ man it stands to reason he wouldn’t ha’ ​turned water into wine! You’d know that if you’d read your Bible the way you’d orter, ’stid nosin’ aroun’ in it fer the texts that suit you.
Rufe
I’ve read it from kiver to kiver! I know it back’ards.
David
That’s the only way you do know it! You’d have to have the right sort o’ religion to read it for’ards!
Rufe
They’s only one right sort! That’s the sort Jesus had! An’, thanks to Him, I got that!
David
Shucks! Jesus wouldn’t know your religion if he met it in the road! He didn’t wait till the war broke out an’ skeered Him afore He got His! He wa’n’t that sort! I did have hopes that Sid might start preachin’ the real Jesus religion when he got back, but’s fur as I can make out he’s like these here piddlin’ ’Piscopalians that run that mission school over thar. He ain’t got no sort at all! An’ as fer the sort o’ religion most folks has got around here, it’s a stench in the nostrils o’ God!
Rufe
You needn’t look so straight at me! I know who you’re a-hittin’ at!
David
I wusn’t a-hittin’ at nobody in pertickler! But I’ve allus hyeard you could tell who’s hit by who hollers.
Rufe
I’m satisfied ’ith my religion!
David
That’s a shore sign God ain’t.
Meg
La! I’d jist as soon hear you talk about war as religion!
David
It allus has been a peacefuler subjec’.
Meg
Cain’t you think o’ nothing else? David, I thought you said you ’us a-goin’ to rob a bee-gum fer Sid afore supper!
David
That’s so! I’d ’most fergot. I’ll see if I can git ’nough fer him to mess up his mouth with. It’s rained ​so much the past month the bees ain’t had no time to work. Matt, want to hold the smudge fer me?
Matt
Yeh. [Rises and crosses to the outer door.] Hold on! Some one else ’ll have to help you, Paw. I better round up that hay. Looks like a shower afore long. [He goes out.]
David
Yeh, kinder feels like it. Come along, Meg; you can hold the smudge.
Meg
[Looks at Sid and Andy significantly]
I’d orter be startin’ supper. I reckon Sid can help you.
David
Sid! He ain’t no hand ’ith bees, an’ you know it! Look here, Meg, if he covered hisself up from head to toe he wouldn’t be as safe as he is right here ’ith Andy. So come on an’ stop your frettin’!
[He goes out through the kitchen, followed by Meg.]
Andy
[Getting ready to go]
I reckon I’d better be tappin’ the sand. Sid, awhile ago you seemed to be worried ’bout where you’d git your next drink.
Sid
I ain’t losin’ no sleep over it.
Andy
Well, I got a bottle o’ blockade out here in the mail pouch, if you———
Rufe
[Eagerly]
Where’d you git it, Andy?
Andy
That’s my business.
Rufe
I’ve hyeard that new stuff they’re makin’ now’s so fiery that it ’ll burn your insides out. [He looks around and lowers his voice confidentially] You ought to see some I got.
Andy
You! I thought you’d gone prohybition!
Rufe
This is some I had afore I j’ined the church. It’s over twenty year old.
Andy
Oh, hell!
Rufe
I swear it on a stack o’ Bibles!
Sid
If you had it afore you j’ined the church, how’d it ever live to be twenty year old?
Andy
That’s what I’d like to know!
Rufe
Well, I allus did have a weak stummick, you know that. An’ it’s been lots wuss the past few years. Any sort o’ licker’s apt to gag me!
Andy
That don’t count fer no twenty years!
Rufe
I ain’t claimin’ I had it in my possession all that time. D’you mind that tale ’bout the revenue raid way back yonder, when Bob Fortenbury buried all his licker in the bed o’ Buck Spring Creek an’ never could find it ’cause it come a rain an’ washed his marks away?
Andy
Yeh?
Rufe
Well, me an’ Bill Hedgpeth unkivered a ten-gallon keg one day ’bout three year ago when we ’us dynamitin’ fish, [Enthusiastically] An’ it’s the best stuff you ever stuck your tongue into! So thick an’ sirupy it clings to the sides o’ the bottle jist like ’lasses!
Andy
[Interrupting him]
Stop! Is they any left?
Rufe
Some. Why?
Andy
Why! Ha, ha! Did you hear that, Sid? He wants to know why? ’Course you don’t want to sell it?
Rufe
Well, my advice to everybody is to let licker alone. But if folks is bound they’re a-goin’ to drink the stuff, I s’pose tain’t no more ’n right to help ’em git sompen good.
Andy
[Slaps him on the back]
Spoke like a true Christian!
Rufe
That’s what I try to be, Andy, An’ ef that licker o’ mine ’ll help you out I don’t want to make nuthin’ on it. The only thing is—I bought Bill Hedgpeth’s share, an’ if I’m a-goin’ to be out of a job soon I would kinder like to git back jist what I paid fer it.
Andy
Well, you won’t have no trouble a-squarin’ yourself if it tastes anything like you say.
Rufe
You don’t have to take my word for it. I got a sample bottle. [He makes a move toward the stairs.] Come on up an’ try it!
Andy
[Hesitating]
I’ve had about all I can tote. But I reckon one more drink like that won’t load me down, [As he turns to follow Rufe he hears a noise outside and looks off in the direction of the store.] Oh, hell! Thar’s Sis—out at the store!
Sid
What’s the trouble?
Andy
Trouble! Jude’s got religion sence you left—like Rufe! An’ she has a jeeminy fit every time she smells ​licker on me! But drive on, Rufe! Dam’ it all, I’m free, white, an’ twenty-one!
[He goes upstairs. Rufe hangs back. Sid goes to the door and looks out.]
Rufe
[Insinuatingly]
I meant fer you to sample it too, Sid!
Sid
[Intent on the door]
Much obliged. You an’ Andy go ahead. I’ll go out an’ see what Jude wants.
Rufe
[With venom behind the jest]
I know what’s the matter ’ith you! Now ’at you know Jude’s got religion, you want her to think you’re sproutin’ wings!
Sid
[Surprised, turns and looks at him]
Have you staked out any grounds fer objectin’ to what she thinks about me?
Rufe
Why, Sid, you didn’t take me serious, did you? She’s all free country as fur as I’m concerned! I wus only jokin’!
Sid
Oh, I see! Well, whichever way it is, you got some business o’ your own upstairs an’ you better go along an’ ’tend to it—without me.
[Rufe makes a move as if to reply, but changes his mind and goes upstairs, throwing a malignant glance over his shoulder at Sid. Jude, a handsome mountain girl, is seen approaching. Sid smiles mischievously and steps back into the corner behind the door. Jude enters and looks about her.]
Jude
[Calls through the open door into the kitchen]
Miz Hunt!
Sid
[Steps out, smiling]
Ahem!
Jude
[Startled, looks at him in amazement]
Sid! [She takes a step toward him. Sid presses his lips together firmly and assumes a pose of martyrdom.] What’s the matter? [She comes nearer, eagerly.] Cain’t you talk? [Sid stands rigidly at attention and shakes his head solemnly.] Oh! You hain’t been shell-shocked ner tetched in the head? [Sid shakes his head again solemnly as before.] Then why don’t you say sompen? [She takes hold of his arms, with increas​ing alarm.] You know me, don’t you? [Sid seizes her suddenly and kisses her. After a moment she frees herself and looks at him again with amazement. He clicks his heels together and assumes his martyr’s pose, but his mouth twitches with the ghost of a smile.] Sid, if you don’t tell me why you're actin’ this way I’m a-goin’ to scream!
Sid
I ain’t actin’! This is nachel!
Jude
Nachel?
Sid
Yeh. Don’t you mind the last time you seen me you told me never to speak to you ag’in as long as I lived?
Jude
Oh! So that’s it!
Sid
[Laughs guiltily]
Yeh! You know I allus did try to please you!
Jude
[Backs away from him angrily]
If you didn’t aim to speak to me, what’d you go an’ kiss me fer?
Sid
You didn’t say nothin’ about not kissin’ you.
Jude
I never kick afore I’m spurred! You knowed all the time I didn’t mean it when I told you never to speak to me no more. An’, anyhow, you could ha’ writ!
Sid
I thought o’ writin’. But I ain’t much of a hand at settin’ things down on paper. I ’lowed I could argy with you better when I got you where I could sorter surround you!
Jude
That’s another thing! You’d ought to kep’ your hands offen me! [With a suggestion of coquetry] I still ain’t a-goin’ to marry you!
Sid
Oh! [He turns away teasingiy.] Well, nobody axed you.
Jude
[Her eyes blazing dangerously]
You needn’t throw that up to me!
Sid
Oh, come on, Jude, le’s be sensible. [He tries to take her hands.] I’ll quarrel with you an’ court you all you want me to after we’re married,
Jude
You act like you had a morgidge on me!
[During the preceding two speeches Andy and Rufe are seen coming downstairs. Andy is in the state of exhilaration that precedes complete intoxication. At Sid’s suggestion of marriage, Rufe halts on the stairs and looks at him with a malignant expression.]
Andy
[Thickly, with a drunken flourish]
Hello, Sis!
Jude
Andy! You’re drunk ag’in!
Andy
Well! What ’re you a-goin’ to do about it, little Sis? Pray? [She hangs her head in shame and doesn’t answer. He continues, belligerently] I’m free, white, an’ twenty-one! An’ it’s a free country! Come on, Rufe! [To Sid, confidentially] Me an’ Rufe’s got some tradin’ to do! [He winks elaborately.] Ss-sh! ​[He starts out, Jude makes a move to follow him] Wait! Steady! Where you goin’?
Jude
To the store. I got some tradin’ to do, too!
Andy
Aw right. Then let Sid wait on you! Me an’ Rufe ’ll stay right here till you come back! Our business is private!
Rufe
[Eagerly]
I expect you’d better let me go with her, Andy. I know where the things are better ’n Sid.
Andy
No! I object! You stay right dam’ where you are! [To Jude] Now—go ahead! An’, Sid, don’t fergit my caterdges!
Sid
I reckon we’ll have to call that shootin’ match off, Andy. Mam’s kickin’ up sich a row about it.
Andy
Ha, ha, ha! She’s afeard we’ll start another war! All right, it’s off! But bring me a box o’ caterdges jist the same as if it wusn’t.
Sid
[In a lower tone to Jude]
Come on! Don’t cross him! [Then to Andy] What sort o’ caterdges, Andy?
Andy
The sort that raises the most hell!
Sid
Ha, ha! All right. But that don’t tell me much. You can grow a purty good crop o’ hell ’ith any sort if you’ll water ’em ’ith enough licker! [He and Jude go out front.]
Andy
[Looks after him drunkenly]
Does he think I’m drunk, too?
Rufe
I dunno what he thinks! [Insinuatingly] But did you hear what he ’us a-sayin’ to Jude jist now?
Andy
To Jude? [He draws himself up stiffly.] Wus it anything outen th’ way?
Rufe
I’d think so. He wus a-talkin’ about marryin’ her. [Andy relaxes, with an expression of boredom.] But ​mebby you don’t object to the Hunts an’ Lowries a-swoppin’ blood that way instid o’ the way they use’ to!
Andy
[Starts violently and lays his hand on his pistol]
Swoppin’ blood! Wus Sid a-talkin’ about the Hunts an’ Lowries a-swoppin’ blood like they use’ to?
Rufe
’Tain’t like you to be skeered of him, Andy!
Andy
Umn? Wha’s ’at? [He lurches toward Rufe drunkenly and seizes him by the collar.] Any man ’at says I’m afraid o’ Sid Hunt’s a God-dam’ liar!
Rufe
I didn’t say it! [Andy relaxes his grip and grunts interrogatively. Rufe continues, glancing suggestively in the direction that Sid has gone] But I know the man that did.
Andy
Umn? You know the man ’at said I— Who is he?
Rufe
I ain’t tellin’ no tales, but he don’t live more ’n a thousand miles from here!
Andy
Wus it Sid hisself?
Rufe
I ain’t a-sayin’ who it wus. But as your friend, Andy, I’m a-goin’ to warn you o’ one thing: don’t you start nothin’ ’ith Sid that you ain’t prepared to end! Rickollect the last time the Hunts an’ Lowries fit they ’us three more Lowries killed ’n they wus Hunts!
Andy
[With the superhuman calm of the drunken man]
Did Sid brag about that?
Rufe
I ain’t a-sayin’ what Sid done! I’m a-talkin’ to you now as a friend fer your own good!
Andy
Three more Lowries ’n Hunts! [Weeping with rage] The God-dam’ bastard! Where is he? Where is he?
[He starts outside. Rufe restrains him.]
Rufe
Ca’m yourself, Andy! He’ll be back here any minute!
Andy
Rufe, are you fer me er ag’in’ me?
Rufe
I’ll stick by a friend, Andy, till Jedgment Day!
Andy
Then gimme your hand! Fer jist as shore as sunrise I’m a-goin’ to ekalize things!
Rufe
I’m sorry to hear you talk this way, Andy!
Andy
[Opens his pistol and examines it]
You b’lieve in Provydence, don’t you, Rufe?
Rufe
I don’t believe nothin’ ’bout it. I know it!
Andy
Look! [He shows him the pistol.] It’s a-goin’ to take six Hunts to make things ekal an’ I got jist six caterdges left! That’s Provydence!
Rufe
[Not understanding him]
My advice to you, Andy, is to drop this! The Hunts are dangerous folks! Sid in pertickler, now ’at he’s been through the war! You’d a heap better pocket ​your pride an’ live in peace with him if you can, fer if he gits started he won’t stop at nothin’! I know him!
Andy
But you don’t know me, Rufe! You think I’m skeered! Well, jist wait! This is a free country an’ everybody in it ought to be ekal! Three more Lowries ’n Hunts—that ain’t ekal!
[He breaks down and weeps with rage as the curtain falls.]