The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1915-01-20
CHAPTER l..

cumberland ridge through a sky OF
mountain clarity. the sun seemed hesi-
tating before Its descent to the hor1'
Son. The suear-loaf cone that tow.
cred above a creek called Misery was
pointed and edged with emerald trac-
cry where the loftiest timber thrust
up its crest rlumes into the sun. On
the hillsides it would be light for
more than an hour yet, but below,
4 where the waters tossed themselves
I along In chorus Of tiny cascades, the
Hight was already thickenipg into
{ cathedral gloom. Down there the "fur-
riner" would have seen only the rough
course of the creek between moss
! velYeted and shaded powders OF
titanic proportions. The native would
! have recognized the country road In
these tortuous twistings. A great block
6 of sandstone, to whose summit man
standing In his saddle could scarcely
reach his fingertips, lowered above,
I the stream, with. a gnarled scrub oak
clinging tenaciously to its apex. Loft
9 ny ON both sides climbed the noun
4 fains cloaked In laurel and timber,
Suddenly the LEAKAGE was thrust
aside from above by a cautious hand,
j and q shy, half-wild girl appeared In
j the opening. For an instant she halt
led, with her brown fingers holding
back the brushwood, and raised her
Z face as though listening, AS she
& stood with the toes OF one bare foot
twisting in the gratefully cool moss
she laughed with the sheer exhilara-
\ fion OF life and youth, and started out
On the table top OF the huge rock.
i But there she halted suddenly with q
startled exclamation and drew instfnc.
stiyely Nack. What she saw might well
4 have astonished her, for 1t was a thing
\ che had never seen before and Of
\ which she had never heard. Finally,
treasured by the silence. she slipped
Il sacross the. broad face Of the fat rock
for q distance OF twenty-five feet and
paused again to listen. s$l Il.
10 At the far edge lay pair OF saddle
\ bags, such as form the only practical
equipment for mountain travellers:
{ Near them lay a tin box, Uttered with
small and notwithstanding tubes Of
\ soft metal, all grotesquely twisted and
stained, and beside the box was q
! strangely shaped plaque Of wood
smeared with a dozen hues. That this
plaque was painters sketching pal
cite was a thing which she could not
I know, since the ways of artists had
TO do with q world as remote from
!; her own as the life of the moon or
J stars It was one Of those vague mys-
steries that made up the wonderful life
{, of down below Why had these
things been left here In such confu-
sion? II there was a man about who
owned them he would doubtless return
( 10 claim them. She crept over, eyes
and ears alert, and slipped around to
the front Of the queer tripod, with all
her muscles poised in readiness for
Night. ~. z e, Vs,f
"a hah-rapturous and utterly aston
t|ished cry broke from her lips She,
stared a moment, then dropped to the
smoss-coyered rock, leaning back on
her brown hands and gazing intently:
Hits purty!" she approved, in a,
low, musical murmur., "Hit's plumb,
dead beautiful" # ,.s3ss s1s.
or course 1t was not finished pic
I ture- merely study OF what lay be-,
/ fore her--but the hand that had
placed these brush strokes on the.
academy board was the sure, deft
hand OF q master Of landscape, who
had caught the splendid spirit of the
thing and fixed it immutably in true
and glowing appreciation. Who he
Z was; where he had gone; why his
work stood there unfinished and aban.
doned, were details which for the mo
ment this half-savage child-woman for.
( got to. question She was conscious
only of a sense of revelation and awe
Then She saw other boards, like the
one upon the easel, piled lear the
paint box. These were dry, and rep
4 resented the work Of other days; but
( they were all pictures OF her own
mountains, and IL each OF them, as
= III LILO OuC, W dc oSkuClAth6 IudS mdu0
her heart leap. Z; "a ~ ;.
To her own people these steep hill
sides and ."coves" and valleys were a
matter Of course In their stony soil
they labored by day, and in their shad.
ows slept when work was done. Yet
someone had discovered that they held
q picturesque and rugged beauty; that
y they were not merely steep fields
where the plow was useless and the
hoe must be used. She must tell Sam
son--Samson,. whom she held in an
artless sxaltation Of hero worship;
Samson, who was so smart" that he
thought about things beyond her un-
derstanding; Samson, who could not
/. only read and write. but speculate on
proolematical matters.
Suddenly she came to her feet with
q; swift-darting impulse of alarm. Her
ear had caught sound. She cast
searching glances about her, but the
tangle was empty of humanity. The
water still murmured over the rocks
undisturbed. There was no sign of
human presence, other than herself,
that her eyes could discover-and yet
to her ears came the sound again, and
Elis time more distinctly. 1t was the
sound OF mans voics, and 1t was
moaning as IL in pain. She rose and
searched vainly through the bushes of