The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1888-01-06
BAVE'S SACRIFICE.

II XVI u, i'dFt- u hli IndhG hHic
of tibet. Thar amt nobody round hyar
kin beat yo ridn."
Dave knows that 'thout ye telln' him,
Mandy. He amt no fool, N that twenty
five dollars is comm ter him, sure seed
him givin' Judy an extra rundown this
mownin', fore sun-np. What We goin'
ter do with the money, Dave?"
''Wait till | get it, answered tall,
athletic young fellow Of about twenty
years of age, who stood in the doorway OF
the little mountain cabin. 81 amt maxim
no plans"
eye jest say that, Dave, not likin' to set
yerself up none,' said his sister, raking
out the fire on the broad HEARTH and set
ting black kettle of water in the middle
of the ashes. 'But I'm countin' on that
new dress, N I'll look 70 it when yo' uns
comes mp the mounting this cvenin'.
Dave laughed and walked across the
little yard to the rough shed where Judy
was stamping and paving impatiently.
She whinned as her sharp ears caught the
sound of her masters tread, and when he
opened the shed door and held out his hand
she came to him at once and put her head
on his shoulder, showing as well as she
was able how deep was her affection for
him.
Dave pattcd her gently, his arm around
her neck. lie had raised her from colt,
and always talked to her as if she were ca
pablo of understanding everything he said
to her.
''Wc uns will show EN- some pretty
ridin' ter day, | reckon, Judy" he half
whispered, 81 amt afearcd none bout
gettin' tibet twenty five dollars"
He put a saddle and a bride On the
mare and led her out. Her whinny of de
light on leaving the close shed, brought
Mandy and her husband to the cabin
door.
eye goin' now, Dave?' asked his
brother-in-law.
eyes; reckon | better be off I'll take
it slow goin' down the mounting.
"Well, I'll be long fore the toonament
sets in. reckon there'll be right smart
O crowd ter Erwin
Dave assented with a nod, and rode
away, curbing with a steady hand .Iudy's
desired to break into a wild gallop. He
wanted to save her strength for the con-
test into which he was to enter that after
noon, and he felt as sure of the prize as il
it were already within his grasp.
The tournament was the bright idea OF
a young man from one of the Northern
cities who was spending several months in
the North Carolina mountains for the
benefit of his health, and who had wan
dered by accident to Erwin, a little ham
let at the foot of the mountain range,
miles from railroad, where the great
event of each week was the mail on Satur-
day.
The houses are deerepit frame buildings
and rough log cabins, standing around
wecdy square shaded by great oak,
beneath which the dozen or more cows of
the place gathered on warm days to chew
the eud and wait for milking time, while
lean, lank, black hogs roamcd at will
through the stony, hilly street running
around the square. There were no
pavements, not even q board walk,
and on the low, sagging porch of the
principal store, the men Of the village reg
ularly assembled every day, to smoke, to
tell long stories of bear and wolf hunts,
and discuss the news in the weekly papers.
They seemed to young Howard Hilton
who was all spirit and energy-utterly
without enterprise or ambition, and he re
solved to wake them up a little.
To this end he proposed a tournament,
offering prize oftwenty- five dollars to the
successful competitor; and was pleased
with the excitement which al once took
possession of the whole village.
On every side he heard the name of
young Dave Fielder, and it seemed to be
conceded that he would be the one to car
ry off the prize. The only horse that
could compare with Judy in speed, and be
relied upon not to swerye in straight
course, was a big black animal belonging
to Sam Brcen, an old man who had been a
famous hunter in his day, but had recent
ly been famed by severe fall. Riding
was ont of the question for him, and he
had never allowed anyone else to mount
Black Eagle. But there were six beside
Dave who had entered their names as com
petitors, and among them was Rob Hart
lev. who lived with his old mother way up
on the mountain side, and whose only
steed was q decrepit white mule, which
could be goaded into pace faster than a
walk only at tho cost of increasing labor
with stout cudgel.
Dave, walking Judy slowly down the
mountain path, laughed as he thought OF
the ridiculous figure Rob would cut on old
Obed, and wondered what the boy could
be thinking of, and if he understood what
a tournament was.
But his laugh died abruptly away as q
sudden turn in the path brought him al
most upon n little clearing in the vast
stretch of dark, unnhabited forest, in the
middle of which stood little log cabin OF
two rooms, divided by wide entry.
1t was Rob's home, and his mother-a
forlorn figure in her course, homespun
dress, slat sun bonnet, and cowhide shoes