"Whut made you vote fer this heah railroad?" said Sarah Ann, following him mercilessly with the bonnet tube. "We didn"t want no railroad. We never did have one, an" we never ought to a-had one. You listen to me, that railroad is goin" to ruin this country. Thah ain"t a woman in these heah bottoms but would be skeered to have a baby grow up in her house. Supposin" you got a baby; nice little baby, never did harm no one. You a-cookin" or somethin"--out to the smoke- house like enough; baby alone fer about two minutes. Baby crawls out on to the railroad track. Along comes the ingine, an" biff! Thah"s yo" baby!"
Mrs. Bowles shed tears at this picture which she had conjured up, and even her less imaginative consort became visibly affected, so that for a moment he half straightened up.
"Hit don"t look quite right," said he, once more. "But, then, whut you goin" to do? Whut _kin_ we do, woman?" he asked fiercely.
"Why, if the men in these heah parts was half men," said his wife, "I tell you whut they"d do. They"d git out and tear up every foot of this heah cussed railroad track, an" throw it back into the cane.
That"s whut they"d do."
"Sho" now, would you?" said Jim Bowles.
"Sh.o.r.e I would. You got to do it if things keeps on this-away."
"Well, we couldn"t, lessen Cunnel Blount said it was all right, you know. The Cunnel was the friend of the road through these heah bottoms. He "lowed it would help us all."
"Help? Help us? Huh! Like to know how it helps us, killin" ouah cow an" makin" us walk three mile of a hot mornin" to git a pail o" melk to make up some co"hn bread. You call that a help, do you, Jim Bowles? You may, but I don"t an" I hain"t a-goin" to. I got some sense, I reckon. Railroad! Help! Huh!"
Jim Bowles crept stealthily a little farther away on his own side of the board-pile, whither it seemed his wife could not quite so readily follow him with her transfixing gaze.
"Well, now, Sar" Ann," said he, "the Cunnel done tol" me hit was all right. He said some of ouah stock like enough git kilt, "cause you know these heah bottoms is growed up so close like, with cane an" all that, that any sort of critters like to git out where it"s open, so"s they kin sort o" look around like, you know. Why, I done seen four deer trails whils" we was a-comin" up this mawnin", and I seen whah a b"ah had come out an" stood on the track. Now, as fer cows, an" as fer n.i.g.g.e.rs, why, it stands to reason that some of them is sh.o.r.e goin" to git kilt, that"s all."
"An" you men is goin" to stand that from the railroad? Why don"t you make them pay for whut gits kilt?"
"Well, now, Sar" Ann," said her husband, conciliatorily, "that"s just whut I was goin" to say. The time the fust man come down through heah to talk about buildin" the railroad, he done said, like I tol" you Cunnel Blount said, that we might git some stock kilt fer a little while, till things kind o" got used to it, you know; but he "lowed that the railroad would sort o" pay for anything that got kilt like, you know."
"Pay! The railroad goin" to pay you!" Again the remorseless sunbonnet followed its victim and fixed him with its focus. "Pay you! I didn"t notice no money layin" on the track where we come along this mawnin", did you? Yes, I reckon it"s goin" to pay you, a whole heap!" The scorn of this utterance was limitless, and Jim Bowles felt his insignificance in the untenable position which he had a.s.sumed.
"Well, I dunno," said he, vaguely, and sighed softly; all of which irritated Mrs. Bowles to such an extent that she flounced suddenly around to get a better gaze upon her master. In this movement, her foot struck the pail of milk which had been sitting near, and overturned it.
"Jinny," she called out, "you, Jinny!"
"Ya.s.sam," replied Jinny, from some place on the gallery.
"Come heah," said Mrs. Bowles. "Git me another pail o" melk. I done spilled this one."
"Ya.s.sam," replied Jinny, and presently returned with the refilled vessel.
"Well, anyway," said Jim Bowles at length, rising and standing with hands in pockets, inside the edge of the shade line of the evergreens, "I heard that thah was a man come down through heah a few days ago. He was sort of takin" count o" the critters that done got kilt by the railroad kyahs."
"That so?" said Sarah Ann, somewhat mollified.
"I reckon so," said Jim Bowles. "I "lowed I"d ast Cunnel Blount "bout that sometime. 0" co"se it don"t bring Muley back, but then---"
"No, hit don"t," said Sarah Ann, resuming her original position. "And our little Sim, he just loved that Muley cow, little Sim, he did,"
she mourned.
"Say, Jim Bowles, do you heah me?"--this with a sudden flirt of the sunbonnet in an agony of actual fear. "Why, Jim Bowles, do you know that ouah little Sim might be a-playin" out thah in front of ouah house, on to that railroad track, at this very minute? S"pose, s"posen--along comes that thah railroad train! Say, man, whut you standin" there in that thah shade fer? We got to go! We got to git home! Come right along this minute, er we may be too late."
And so, smitten by this sudden thought, they gathered themselves together as best they might and started toward the railroad for their return. Even as they did so there appeared upon the northern horizon a wreath of smoke rising above the forest. There was the far-off sound of a whistle, deadened by the heavy intervening vegetation; and presently, there puffed into view one of the railroad trains still new upon this region. Iconoclastic, modern, strenuous, it wabbled unevenly over the new-laid rails up to the station-house, where it paused for a few moments ere it resumed its wheezing way to the southward. The two visitors at the Big House gazed at it open-mouthed for a time, until all at once her former thought crossed the woman"s mind. She turned upon her husband.
"Thah it goes! Thah it goes!" she cried. "Right on straight to ouah house! It kain"t miss it! An" little Sim, he"s sho" to be playin" out thah on the track. Oh, he"s daid right this minute, he sho"ly is!"
Her speech exercised a certain force upon Jim Bowles. He stepped on the faster, tripped upon a clod and stumbled, spilling half the milk from the pail.
"Thah, now!" said he. "Thah hit goes ag"in. Done spilt the melk.
Well, hit"s too far back to the house now fer mo". But, now, mebbe Sim wasn"t playin" on the track."
"Mebbe he wasn"t!" said Sarah Ann, scornfully. "Why, _o" co"se_ he was."
"Well, if he was," said Jim Bowles, philosophically, "why, Sar" Ann, from whut I done notice about this yeah railroad train, why--it"s _too late_, now."
He might perhaps have pursued this logical course of thought further, had not there occurred an incident which brought the conversation to a close. Looking up, the two saw approaching them across the lawn, evidently coming from the little railway station, and doubtless descended from this very train, the alert, quick-stepping figure of a man evidently a stranger to the place. Jim and Sarah Ann Bowles stepped to one side as he approached and lifted his hat with a pleasant smile.
"Good morning," said the stranger. "It"s a fine day, isn"t it? Can you tell me whether or not Colonel Blount is at home this morning?"
"Well, suh," said Jim Bowles, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "He ah, an" he ain"t. He"s home, o" co"se; that is, he hain"t gone away no whah, to co"te er nothin". But then ag"in, he"s out huntin", gone afteh b"ah. I reckon he"s likely to be in "most any day now."
""Most any day?"
"Yessah. You better go on up to the house. The Cunnel will be right glad to see you. You"re a stranger in these parts, I reckon? I"d be glad to have you stop down to my house, but it"s three mile down the track, an" we hatter walk. You"d be mo" comfo"table heah, I reckon.
Walk on up, and tell "em to give you a place to set. My woman an"
me, I reckon we got to git home now, suh. It"s somethin" might be mighty serious."
"Yas, indeed," murmured Mrs. Bowles, "we got to git along."
"Thank you," said the stranger. "I am very much obliged to you, indeed. I believe I will wait here for just a little while, as you say. Good morning, sir. Good morning, madam."
He turned and walked slowly up the path toward the house, as the others pursued their way to the railroad track, down which they presently were plodding on their homeward journey. There was at least a little milk left in the pail when finally they reached their log cabin, with its yard full of pigs and chickens. Eagerly they scanned the sides of the railway embankment as they drew near, looking for signs of what they feared to see. One need not describe the fierce joy with which Sarah Ann Bowles fell upon little Sim, who was presently discovered, safe and dirty, knocking about upon the kitchen floor in abundant company of puppies, cats and chickens. As to the reproaches which she heaped upon her husband in her happiness, it is likewise unnecessary to dwell thereupon.
"I knowed he would be kilt," said Sarah Ann.
"But he _hain"t_," said her husband, triumphantly. And for one time in their married life there seemed to be no possible way in which she might contradict him, which fact for her const.i.tuted a situation somewhat difficult.
"Well, "tain"t yo" fault ef he hain"t," said she at length. The rest of her revenge she took upon the person of little Sim, whom she alternately chastened and embraced, to the great and grieved surprise of the latter, who remained ignorant of any existing or pending relation upon his part with the methods or the instruments of modern progress.
CHAPTER III
THE VISITOR
The new-comer at the Big House was a well-looking figure as he advanced up the path toward the white-pillared galleries. In height just above middle stature, and of rather spare habit of body, alert, compact and vigorous, he carried himself with a half-military self- respect, redeemed from aggressiveness by an open candor of face and the pleasant, forthright gaze of kindly blue-gray eyes. In spite of a certain gravity of mien, his eyes seemed wont to smile upon occasion, as witnessed divers little wrinkles at the corners. He was smooth- shaven, except for a well-trimmed dark mustache; the latter offering a distinct contrast to the color of his hair, which, apparently not in full keeping with his years, was lightly sprinkled with gray. Yet his carriage was a.s.suredly not that of middle age, and indeed, the total of his personality, neither young nor old, neither callow nor acerb, neither lightly unreserved nor too gravely severe, offered certain problems not capable of instant solution. A hurried observer might have guessed his age within ten years but might have been wrong upon either side, and might have had an equal difficulty in cla.s.sifying his residence or occupation.
Whatever might be said of this stranger, it was evident that he was not ill at ease in this environment; for as he met coming around the corner an old colored man, who, with a rag in one hand and a bottle in the other, seemed intent upon some errand at the dog kennel beyond, the visitor paused not in query or salutation, but tossed his umbrella to the servant and at the same time handed him his traveling-bag. "Take care of these. Bill," said he.
Bill, for that was indeed his name, placed the bag and umbrella upon the gallery floor, and with the air of owning the place himself, invited the visitor to enter the Big House.