*"! !M tl t"'i 1 1 l\/l T ^ * ft""* 111 i\ ^Sk ■ i^i . i«l| iff fill it 1 '''''■'■' li c 1 1 Ori'l-HAN h rJvHAK Collection of American literature tlije Hii JBequeatfjeb to H ) THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA AT CHAPEL HILL ENDOWED BY THE DIALECTIC AND PHILANTHROPIC SOCIETIES EZ7 c 3 ilil""" 10003145598 1 This book is due at the LOUIS R. WILSON LIBRARY on the 1 last date stamped under "Date Due." If not on hold it may be 1 renewed by bringing it to the library. | DATE 1 Wft A T*™ DATE DUE [ 'JUL V 1 — — ■ III JUL073 104' 1 1 jf r .. I | | J i P 1 ) L 9 i — i 1 *■ Cs Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2012 with funding from University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill http://www.archive.org/details/talesofhomefolksOOharr 33oofc6 bp 3Toel CIjanBIcr Harris. NIGHTS WITH UNCLE REMUS. Illus- trated. 121110, $1.50; paper, 50 cents. MINGO, AND OTHER SKETCHES IN BLACK AND WHITE. i6mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents. BALAAM AND HIS MASTER, AND OTHER SKETCHES. i6mo, $1.25. UNCLE REMUS AND HIS FRIENDS. Illus- trated. i2mo, $1.50. LITTLE MR. THIMBLEFINGER AND HIS QUEER COUNTRY. Illustrated by Oliver Herford. Square 8vo, ^2.00. MR. RABBIT AT HOME. A Sequel to Little Mr. Thimblefinger and His Queer Country. Illustrated by Oliver Herford. Square Svo, $2.00. THE STORY OF AARON (SO-NAMED) THE SON OF BEN ALL Told by his Friends and Acquaintances. Illustrated by Oliver Her- ford. Square Svo, $2.00. AARON IN THE WILDWOODS. Illustrated by Oliver Herford. Square Svo, $2.00. SISTER JANE, HER FRIENDS AND AC- QUAINTANCES. A Narrative of Certain Events and Episodes transcribed from the Papers of the late William Wornum. Crown 8vo, $1.50. TALES OF THE HOME FOLK IN PEACE AND WAR. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, $1.50. HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. Boston and New York. HE WALKED OFF . . . AND LEANED AGAINST A TREE (Page 68) Tales of the Home Folks in Peace and War BY JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS AUTHOR OF UNCLE REMUS AND HIS FRIENDS, NIGHTS WITH UNCLE REMUS, AND THE THIMBLEFINGER STORIES. BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY (Cbe Ifttocitfibe prcsp, Cambnbge 1898 4 / COPYEIQHT 1898 BY JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS AND HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY ALL RIOHTS RESERVED TO MY DAUGHTER LILLIAN Who will know why I have included in Tales of the Home Folks the little skit about our friends in St. Valerien • c3 CONTENTS Page How Whalebone caused a Wedding ... 1 The Colonel's "Nigger Dog" .... 34 A Run of Luck ....... 71 The Late Mr. Watkins of Georgia . . 97 A Belle of St. Valerien ..... 114 The Comedy of War 148 A Bold Deserter 184 A Baby in the Siege 215 The Baby's Fortune 253 An Ambuscade 293 The Cause of the Difficulty .... 345 The Baby's Christmas 377 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Page He walked off . . . and leaned against a tree (Page 68) Frontispiece. " Go ! " the Mariste repeated .... 144 Little Billy trotted by his side . . . 210 "God bless you, me b'y ! " . . . . 336 TALES OF THE HOME FOLK IN PEACE AND WAR HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING Matt Kilpatrick of Putnam used to laugh and say that his famous foxhound Whalebone was responsible for a very bril- liant wedding in Jasper. When Harvey Dennis and Tom Collingsworth were among his listeners (which was pretty much all the time, for the three were inseparable), they had a way of shaking their heads dubiously over this statement. Mr. Dennis thought that his dog Rowan (pronounced Ro-ann) ought to have some of the credit, while Mr. Collingsworth was equally sure that Music had as much to do with the happy event as any of the rest. The Collingsworth argu- ment — and it was a sound one — was that where a lady dog is skipping along and per- forming to the queen's taste all the work that 2 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING is cut out for her, she ought to come ahead of the gentlemen dogs in any historical state- ment or reminiscence. When I first heard the story, considera- tions of local pride led me to feel that Rowan had been unjustly robbed of the credit that belonged to him ; but time cools the ardor of youth, and mellows and sweetens the sources of partisanship. I can say now that Rowan had small advantage over his two famous rivals, when the scent was as high as the saddle-skirts and the pace the kind that kills. Mr. Kilpatrick used to tell the story as a joke, and frequently he repeated it merely to tease those who were interested in the results of Whalebone's exploit, or to worry his fox- hunting rivals, who were his dearest friends. But the story was true. In repeating it I shall have to include details that Mr. Kilpat- rick found it unnecessary to burden himself with, for they were as familiar to his neigh- borhood audience as any of their own per- sonal affairs. The way of it was this : One day in the beginning of December, 1860, Colonel El- more Rivers, of Jasper County, put a negro HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 3 boy on a mule and sent him around with an invitation to certain of his friends, request- ing them to do him the honor of eating their Christmas dinner with him. This invitation was prepared with great care by Mrs. Rivers, who was a schoolma'am from Connecticut when the colonel married her. It was beauti- fully written on the inside of a sheet of fools- cap, and this sheet was tacked to a piece of card-board, by means of a deftly made true- lover's-knot of blue ribbon. The card-board was placed in a satchel, and the satchel was arranged to swing over the shoulders of the negro, so that there was no danger of losing it. There was only one invitation, and it was to be carried from one of the colonel's friends to the other until all had been noti- fied of his hospitable desires. The colonel added an oral postscript as he gave the negro a stiff dram. " Ding 'em," he exclaimed, " tell 'em to bring their dogs. Mind now ! tell 'em to bring- their do«s." Mrs. Rivers enjoyed Christmas as heartily as anybody, but in beginning preparations for the festival she always had her misgiv- ings. Her father, Dr. Joshua Penniman, had been a Puritan among Puritans, and some- 4 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING how she had got the idea from him that there was a good deal of popery concealed in the Christmas ceremonials. But when once the necessity for preparation was upon her she cast her scruples aside, and her Christmas dinners were famous in that whole region. By catering to the colonel's social instincts in this and other particulars, she managed, at a later period of his life, to lead him trium- phantly into the fold of the Baptist Church. It was a great victory for Miss Lou, as every- body called her, and she lived long to enjoy the distinction it conferred upon her. The day after the invitation had been sent around, a couple of weanling pigs were caught and penned, and, until the day be- fore Christmas, they were fed and fattened on nubbins and roasted white-oak acorns. Three young gobblers were also caught and put upon such diet as, according to the colo- nel's theory, would add to their toothsome- ness, and give them a more delicate flavor. These are merely hints of the extensive pre- parations for the Christmas festival on the Rivers plantation. What the colonel always wanted was a merry Christmas, and there could be no mer- HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 5 riment where good - humor and good - cheer were lacking. He had said to his wife years before, when she was somewhat doubtful about introducing her New England holiday, " Go ahead, honey ! Cut just as big a dash as you please with your Thanksgiving. I '11 enjoy it as much as you will, maybe more. The Lord knows we 've got a heap to be thankful for. We '11 cut a big dash and be thankful, and then when Christmas comes we '11 cut a big dash and be happy." Thenceforward they had both Thanksgiv- ing and Christmas on that plantation, and Miss Lou was as anxious to satisfy the colo- nel with her Christmas arrangements as he had been to please her with his zeal for Thanksgiving. Indeed, one Christmas-day, a year or two after their marriage, Miss Lou went so far as to present her husband with a daughter, and ever after that Christmas had a new significance in that household : Miss Lou satisfied her Puritan scruples by pre- tending to herself that she was engaged in celebrating her daughter's birthday, and the colonel was glad that two of the most impor- tant days in the calendar were merged into one. 6 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING When the child was born, a poor lonely old woman, named Betsey Cole, who lived in the woods between the Rivers plantation and town, sent the colonel word that the little lass would grow up to be both good and beautiful. Nothing would do after that but the colonel must send the fortune-teller a wagon-load of provisions, and he kept it up every Christmas as long as Betsey Cole lived. The fortune-teller certainly made no mis- take in her prediction. The child grew to be the most beautiful young woman in all that region. The colonel named her Mary after his mother, and the name seemed to fit her, for her character was as lovely as her face. Even the women and little children loved her, and when this kind of manifestation is made over a girl, it is needless to inquire about her character or disposition. It might be supposed that Mary had a lover, but if so, no one knew it but her own sweet self. Her father, the colonel, declared she was as cool as a cucumber when the boys were around, and the young men who raved over her thought she was even cooler than a cucumber. And yet she had her father's ardent temperament and good-nature, and HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 1 her mother's prudence and sound discretion. It was a happy combination in all respects, and it had its climax in a piquant individu- ality that impressed old and young with its charm. There were two young men, among the many that were smitten, who made it a point to pay particular attention to the young lady. One was Jack Preston, and the other was Andy Colston. Both were handsome and ambitious, and both had good prospects. Colston already had the advantage of a for- tune, but Preston was as hopeful and as cheerful as if he possessed a dozen planta- tions and a thousand negroes. Mentally they were about evenly matched, but Preston had been compelled by circumstances to cultivate an energy in the matter of steady application that Colston never knew the necessity of. These young men were intimate friends, and they did not attempt to conceal from each other their attitude toward Mary Rivers. It was perhaps well that this was so. Both were high-strung and high-tempered, and if they had been anything but intimate with each other, the slightest cause or provocation would have precipitated trouble between 8 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING them. And this would have heen very un- fortunate indeed ; for, if the name of Mary Rivers had been even remotely hinted as the cause of such trouble, the colonel would have locked himself in his library, read a chapter in the family Bible, called for his saddle- horse and shot-gun, and gone cantering up the big: road on business connected with the plantation. But these rival lovers were bosom friends. There were points about each that attracted the other. When Preston was with Miss Mary he lost no opportunity of praising the good qualities of Colston, and Colston made no concealment of the fact that he considered Preston the salt of the earth, as we say in Georgia. All this was very pleasant and very confus- ing. Mary was in love with one of them, but she never admitted the fact, even to her- self, until a curious episode compelled her to acknowledge it. Even her mother confessed that she had been unable to discover Mary's preference until the fact fluttered out before everybody's eyes, like a startled bird from its nest. For a while the mother would think that her daughter preferred Preston. Then HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 9 she would imagine that the girl was in love with Colston. And sometimes she would con- clude that Mary's heart had not been touched at all. Miss Lou herself preferred Colston, but she was not opposed to Preston. Col- ston had a solid fortune, and Preston — well, Connecticut knows very well how many long days and how many hard licks are necessary to lay up a fortune. Young people may put up True Love as their candidate and pout at Hard Cash as much as they please, but if they had to go through the experience that Con- necticut and the neighboring States went through sixty odd years ago (to go back no farther), they would come to the conclusion that Hard Cash has peculiar merits of its own. Nevertheless, Miss Lou was too wise to say anything about the matter. She knew that her husband, although he possessed land and negroes and money, had a certain fine scorn for the privileges and distinctions that mere wealth confers. He was emphatically a man of the people, and he would have tolerated no effort to implant false notions in his daugh- ter's mind. Moreover, Miss Lou had great confidence in Mary's sound judgment. It was one comfort, the mother thought, that 10 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING Mary was not giddy. She was as gay as a lark, and full of the spirit of innocent fun, but (thank goodness) not giddy nor foolish. But, after all, the chief worry of Miss Lou on the approach of this particular Christmas was not about Mary and her beaux. It was about the preparations that the colonel was making on his own responsibility. She saw several extra bags of meal coming in from Roach's Mill, and her heart sank within her at the thought of numberless fox -hounds swarming under the house and in the yard, and roaming around over the plantation. At the first convenient opportunity she broached the subject. " Mr. Rivers " (she never called him colo- nel), " I do hope you have n't asked your friends to brino- their hound-dog's with them. Why, they '11 take the whole place. You 've got twelve of your own. What on earth do you want with any more ? " " Why, yes, honey," said the colonel, with a sigh. " Harvey Dennis and Matt Kilpat- rick and Tom Collingsworth will fetch their dogs, and I reckon maybe Jack Casswell and Bill Hearn will fetch theirs." Mrs. Rivers dropped her hands in her lap HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 11 in helpless dismay. " Mercies upon us ! I thought you surely had dogs enough of your own. " Why, honey," the colonel expostulated, " you 've let the niggers chunk my dogs till they are no manner account." " Well, I do hate hound-dogs ! " exclaimed Miss Lou ; " sneaking around, sticking their noses in the pots and pans, and squalling like they 're killed if you lift your hand. Why, the foxes come right up in the yard and take off the geese and ducks, where your dogs could see them if they were n't too lazy to open their eyes." " Those are just the foxes we 're going to catch, honey," remarked the colonel sooth- ingly. " Well, I 'd rather feed the foxes a whole year than to have forty or fifty hound-dogs quartered on this place three or four days." The colonel made no reply, and after a while his wife remarked, pleasantly, if not cheer- fully, " Well, I guess I '11 have bigger trou- bles than that before I die. If I don't, it will be a mercy." " If you don't, honey, you '11 live and die a happy woman," responded the colonel. 12 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING Miss Lou wiped her face on her apron and sat absorbed in thought. Presently, Mary came dancing in. Her face was shining with health and high spirits. " Just think, folks ! " she exclaimed. " Four more days and I '11 be eighteen ! A woman grown, but with the sweet disposition of a child ! " The colonel laughed and his wife flushed a little. " Where did you hear that ? " she asked her daughter. " Why, I heard you say those words to father no longer than last night. Look, fa- ther ! mother is actually blushing ! " u I believe I did say something like that," said Miss Lou. " I intended to tell your fa- ther afterward that very few children have sweet dispositions. But my mind has been worried all day with the thought of the hound-dogs we 've got to feed." " Oh, father ! " exclaimed Mary, " are we to have a fox-hunt ? And may I go ? " The colonel nodded a prompt assent, but Miss Lou protested. " Now, Mr. Rivers, I think that is going too far. I certainly do. I have always been opposed to it. There is no earthly reason why Mary at her age should HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 13 get on a horse and go galloping about the country with a crowd of yelling men and howling dogs. It may be well enough for the men, — though I think they could be bet- ter employed, — but I think the line ought to be drawn at the women." "Why, mother, how many times have I been fox-hunting with father ? " "Just as many times as you have made me miserable," replied Miss Lou ; " just that many times and no more." " Now, momsy ! don't scold your onliest and oldest daughter," pleaded Mary. " Don't wheedle around me!" cried Miss Lou, pretending to be very angry. "Mr. Rivers, you need n't be winking at Mary be- hind your paper. I do think it is a shame that you should allow your daughter to go ripping and tearing about the country hunt- ing foxes. I think it is a burning shame. I positively do." " Well, honey " — "I don't care what anybody says," Miss Lou broke in. "Here is Mary old enough to get married, and now she must go scamper- ing- about with a lot of men on horseback- It is ridiculous ! " 14 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING " You hear that, father ? Momsy says I 'm old enough to get married. I '11 marry the man that brings me the fox's brush the day after Christmas. And momsy shall bake the cake, and she '11 burn it just as the cake is burning; now." Miss Lou lifted her nose in the air. " I declare, if old Dilsey has gone to sleep and left that fruit-cake to burn, I '11 send her to the overseer ! " Whereupon she skipped from the room, and soon after the colonel and Mary heard her laughing at something the fat old cook had said. Miss Lou's temper was all on the surface. The colonel looked at his daughter over his spectacles and smiled. " I reckon you know, precious, that we '11 have to catch the fox before your beau can give you the brush. But we '11 have some good dogs here. So you 'd better tell your sweetheart to stir his stumps. Maybe the wrong chap will get the brush." " Why, you won't let me have one little joke, father," cried Mary. " Of course I won't marry the man that gives me the brush " — she paused, went to the long mir- HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 15 ror that slanted forward from the wall, and made a pretty mouth at herself — " unless he 's the right person." Then she ran away, laughing. Preparations for the Christmas festival went forward rapidly, and when the day came a goodly company had assembled to do honor to the hearty hospitality of Colonel Rivers. As Miss Lou had foreseen, the yard fairly swarmed with dogs. Harvey Dennis brought seven, Matt Kilpatrick ten, Tom Collings- worth twelve, Jack Casswell eight, and Bill Hearn fourteen — about fifty hounds in all. Colston and Preston had arrived the night before. Colston had dogs, but he left them at home. He knew the prejudices of Mary's mother. Preston was not a planter and had no dogs, but he was very fond of cross-coun- try riding, and never lost an opportunity to engage in the sport. The colonel was in ecstasies. The wide fireplace in the sitting-room was piled high with half-seasoned hickory wood, and those who sat around it had to form a very wide half-circle indeed, for the flaring- logs and glowing embers sent forth a warmth that penetrated to all parts of the room, big as it was. 16 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING And it was a goodly company that sat around the blazing fire, — men of affairs, planters with very large interests depending on their energy and foresight, lawyers who had won more than a local fame, and yet all as gay and as good-humored as a parcel of schoolboys. The conversation was seasoned with apt anecdotes inimitably told, and full of the peculiar humor that has not its counter- part anywhere in the world outside of middle Georgia. And the dinner was magnificent. Miss Lou was really proud of it, as she had a right to be. There are very few things that a Georgia plantation will not produce when it is coaxed, and the colonel had a knack of coaxing that was the envy of his neighbors. Miss Lou could not doubt the sincerity of the praise bestowed on her dinner. All the guests were high-livers, and they declared solemnly that they had never before sat down to such a royal feast. The servants moved about as silently as ghosts. There were four negro girls to wait on the table, and they attended to their du- ties with a promptness and precision that were constant tributes to the pains that Miss HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 17 Lou had taken to train them, and to the vigi- lance with which she watched their move- ments. Over the dessert, the colonel grew commu- nicative. " This mince-pie," he said, " was made by Mary. I don't think she put enough of the twang into it." " It is magnificent ! " exclaimed Colston. " Superb ! " Preston declared. " It 's as good as any," said Tom Collings- worth ; " but this pie business is mighty de- ceiving. Miss Molly is eighteen, and if she can bake a pone of corn-bread as it ought to be baked, she 's ready to get married." " That is her strong point ! " cried the colonel. " She beats anybody at that." " Well, then," said Collingsworth, " you just go and get her wedding goods." " I 'm beginning to think so, too," replied the colonel. " No longer than the other day she declared she 'd marry the man that brings her the fox's brush to-morrow. What do you think of that ? " " Why, father ! " exclaimed Mary, blushing violently. " Then it 's just as good as settled," re- plied Collingsworth gravely. " I 'm just as 18 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING certain to tail that fox as the sun shines. I rubbed my rabbit-foot on Music and Rowdy before I started, and I '11 whistle 'em up and shake it at 'em to-night." " But remember, Mr. Collingsworth, you are already married," Mary suggested archly. " I know — I know ! But my old woman has been complaining might'ly of late — com- plaining might'ly. When I started away, she says, ' Tom, you ought n't to ride your big gray ; he 's lots too young for you.' But something told me that I 'd need the big gray, and, sure enough, here 's right where the big gray comes in." " I brought my sorrel along," remarked Colston, sententiously. " Oh, you did ? " inquired Collingsworth, sarcastically. " Well, I '11 give your sorrel half-way across a ten-acre field and run right spang over you with my big gray before you can get out of the way. There ain't but one nag I 'm afraid of, and that 's Jack Preston's roan filly. You did n't bring her, did you, Jack ? Well," continued Collingsworth with a sigh, as Jack nodded assent, " I '11 give you one tussle anyhow. But that roan is a half-sister of Waters's Timoleon. I declare, HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 19 Jack, you ought n't to be riding that filly around in the underbrush." "She needs exercise," Preston explained. " She 's been in the stable eating her head off for a week." Collingsworth shook his head. "Well," he said, after a while, " just keep her on the ground and I '11 try to follow along after you the best I can." That day and nearly all night there was fun in the big house and fun on the planta- tion. The colonel insisted on havino- some yam-potatoes roasted in the ashes to go alono- with persimmon beer. The negroes made the night melodious with their play-songs, and everything combined to make the occasion a memorable one, especially to the young peo- ple. Toward bedtime the hunters went out and inspected their dogs, and an abundant feed of warm ash-cake was served out to them. Then Tom Collingsworth hung his saddle-blanket on the fence, and under it and around it his dogs curled themselves in the oak-leaves ; and the rest of the dogs followed their example, so that when morning came not a hound was missing*. During the night Mary was awakened by 20 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING the tramping of feet. Some one had come in. Then she heard the voice of Collings- worth. " How is it, Harvey ? " " Splendid ! Could n't be better. It 's warmer. Been drizzling a little." " Thank the Lord for that ! " exclaimed Collingsworth. Then Mary heard the big clock in the hall chime three. In a little while she heard Aunt Dilsey, the cook, shuffling in. A fire was already crackling and blazing in the sit- ting-room. Then the clock chimed four, and at once there seemed to be a subdued stir all over the house. The house -girl came into Mary's room with a lighted candle and quickly kindled a fire, and in a quarter of an hour the young lady tripped lightly down- stairs, the skirt of her riding-habit flung over her arm. It was not long before the company of fox- hunters was gathered around the breakfast- table. The aroma of Aunt Dilsey's hot coffee filled the room, mingled with the odor of fried chicken, and, after the colonel had asked a blessing, they all fell to with a heartiness of appetite that made Aunt Dil- HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 21 sey grin as she stood in the door of the dining-room, giving some parting advice to her young mistress. There was a stir in the yard and in front of the house. The dogs, seeing the horses brought out, knew that there was fun on foot, and they were running about and yelp- ing with delight. And the negroes were laughing; and talking-, and the horses snort- ing and whinnying, and, altogether, the scene was full of life and animation. The morning was a little damp and chilly, but what did that matter ? The drifting clouds, tinged with the dim twilight of dawn, were more ominous in appearance than in fact. They were driving steadily eastward and breaking up, and the day promised to be all that could be desired. At half past five the cavalcade moved off. Mary had disposed of a possible complication by requesting Tom Collingsworth to be her escort until the hunt should need his atten- tion. In addition, she had Bob, the man-of- all-work, to look to her safety, and, although Bob was astride of a mule, he considered himself as well mounted as any of the rest. So they set out, Bob leading the way to open 22 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING the plantation gates that led to the old sedge- fields, where a fox was always found. The riders had been compelled to make a detour in order to cross Murder Creek, so that it was near half-past six o'clock when they reached the fields. Once upon a time these fields had been covered with broom- sedge, but now they had been taken by Ber- muda grass, and were as clean-looking as if they were under cultivation. But they were still called the old sedge-fields. As the east reddened, the huge shadows crept down into the valleys to find a hiding- place. They rested there a little, and then slowly disappeared, moving westward, and leaving behind them the light of day. Tom Collingsworth had carried Mary to a hill that overlooked every part of the wide valley in which the dogs were hunting. He had been teasing- her about Colston and Pres- ton. Finally he asked : — " Now, Miss Mary, which of the two would you like to receive the brush from ? " " I '11 allow you to choose for me. You are a good judge." " Well," said Collingsworth, " if a man was to back me up against the wall, and HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 23 draw a knife on me, and I could n't help myself, I 'd say Preston. That 's a fact." What Mary would have said the old hunter never knew until long afterward, for just at that moment a quavering, long-drawn note came stealing up from the valley below. " That 's my beauty ! " exclaimed Collings- worth. " That 's Music, telling what she thinks she knows. Wait ! " Again the long-drawn note came out of the valley, but this time it was eager, significant. " Now she 's telling what she knows," ex- claimed Collingsworth. The dogs went scampering to the signal. Music was not indulging in any flirtation. The drag was very warm. Whalebone, Matt Kilpatrick's brag dog, picked it up with an exultant cry that made the horses prick their ears forward. Then Rowan joined in, and presently it was taken up by every ambitious dog on the ground. But there seemed to be some trouble. The dogs made no headway. They were casting about eagerly, but in con- fusion. " If you '11 excuse me, Miss Mary, I '11 go down and try to untangle that skein. That fox is n't forty yards from Music's nose." 24 HOW WnALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING He spurred his horse forward, but had to rein him up again. Whalebone swept out of the underbrush, a hundred yards away, fol- lowed by Music and Rowan, gave a wild, exultant challenge that thrilled and vibrated on the air, and went whirling past Mary and Collingsworth not fifty yards from where they stood. Collingsworth gave a series of yells that brought the whole field into the chase, not far behind the leaders. The drag led through and across a series of undulations, and Miss Mary and Collings- worth, cantering leisurely along a skirting ridge, had an excellent view of hunt and huntsmen. The draff was warm enough to be inviting, but not warm enough to excite the hounds. Whalebone, Music, and Rowan were running easily twenty yards ahead of the pack, and for a good part of the time a horse-blanket would have covered them. It was evident, Mr. Collingsworth said, that the fox had run around at the head of the valley in some confusion, and had then slipped away before the hunt came upon the ground. It was a red, too, for a gray would have played around in the undergrowth with the doo-s at his heels before breakingr cover. HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 25 The ridge along which Miss Mary and Col- lingsworth rode bore gradually to the left, inclosing for three miles or more a low range of Bermuda hills, and a series of sweeping valleys, fringed here and there with pine and black-jack thickets. The chase led toward the point where this ridge intersected the woodland region, so that the young lady and Collingsworth not only had an almost uninterrupted view of the hunt from the moment the hounds got away, but were taking a short cut to the point whither the dogs seemed to be going. Both Preston and Colston were well up with the hounds, but Preston's roan filly was going at a much easier gait than Colston's sorrel. Where the rid^e and the hunt entered the woods there was what is known as a " clay gall," a barren spot, above two acres in ex- tent. The surface soil had been washed away and the red clay lay bare and unproductive. At this point the fox seemed to have taken unto himself wing's. The drag* had vanished. Who can solve the mystery of scent ? Xenophon, who knew as much (and as little) about it as anybody knew before or has known since, puzzled himself and his readers 26 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING with a dissertation on the subject. There is a superstition that wild animals can withhold their scent, and there is a theory held by some hunters that a fox badly frightened will leave no scent behind him at all. Those who have followed the hounds know that many a hopeful chase has suddenly come to an end under circumstances as mysterious as they were exasperating. The old riders looked at one another sig- nificantly when the dogs ran whining about the clay gall. Matt Kilpatrick groaned and shook his head. Harvey Dennis encouraged the dogs and urged them on, and they seemed to do their best, but not a whimper came from the noisiest of the pack. Some of the huntsmen began to exhibit signs of despair. But the older ones were more philosophical. " Wait," said Matt Kilpatrick. " Whale- bone and Music and Rowan have gone off to investigate matters. Let 's hear what they have to say." This seemed to be a pretty tame piece of advice to give a parcel of impatient people who had just got a taste of the chase, but it was reasonable ; and so they waited with such appearance of resignation as they could mus- HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 27 ter. They did not have long to wait. By the time Collingsworth could throw a lea- over the pommel of his saddle and take out his pocket-knife preparatory to whittling a twio- Whalebone gave a short, sharp challenge a quarter of a mile away. He was joined in- stantly by Rowan and Music, and then Bob the negro, gave a yell as he heard Old Blue' the colonel's brag dog, put in his mouth! Ihe rest of the dogs joined in the best they could, but a good many were thrown out, for the fox had been taking matters easily, it seems until he heard the dogs coming over the hills, and then he made a bee-line for Lit- tle Kiver, seven miles away. The chase went with a rush from the mo- ment Whalebone picked up the drag in the big woods. When the fox broke away he turned sharply to the left, and in a few mo- ments the dogs streamed out into the open and struck across the Bermuda hills. Mr Col- mgsworth still escorting Mary, was compelled to let his big gray out a few links. It was ±un for the young lady, who had a quick eye and a firm hand. She gave the black she was riding two sharp strokes with her whip, and, for a couple of miles, she set the pace for the 28 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING riders. But it was a pace not good for the horses, as the older hunters knew, and Col- lingrsworth remonstrated. " Don't ride so hard, Miss Mary," he said. " You '11 have plenty of hard riding to do when that old red comes back. I 'm going to take my stand on yonder hill, and if you '11 keep me company, our horses will be fresh when the big scuffle comes." So they took their stand on the hill, and the hounds swept away toward the river, fol- lowed by the more enthusiastic riders. They were riders, however, who seemed to have a knack of taking care of their horses. When the hounds went over a hill the music of their voices rose loud and clear ; when they dipped down into the valleys, it came sweet and faint. They disappeared in the woods, two miles away, and their melody swelled out on the morning air like the notes of some powerful organ softly played. Then the music became fainter and fainter, falling on the ears as gently as a whisper, and finally it died away altogether. " Now," said Collingsworth, " we '11 ride a half-mile to the left here, and I think we '11 then be in the hock of the ham." HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 29 " In the hock of the ham ! " exclaimed Mary. " Oh, I was talking to myself," explained the gray cavalier, laughing. " If you '11 put a ham on the ground and make an outline of it, you '11 get a good map of this chase, in my opinion. The line at the big end of the ham will be Little River. The line on the right will be the way the fox went, and the line on the left will be the way he '11 come back. If you ask me why a fox will run up stream when he 's not hard pushed, I '11 never tell you, but that 's the way they do." A quarter of an hour passed — a half-hour — three quarters. Then, far to the left, there came upon the morning wind a whimpering sound that gradually swelled into a chorus of hounds. " He 's cut out a bisror-er ham than I thought he would," said Collingsworth. The sun was now shining brightly. An old bell-cow, browsing on the Bermuda roots on the hillside, lifted her head suddenly as she heard the hounds, and the klinof-kolano'le of the bell made a curious accompaniment to the music of the dogs, as they burst from a thicket of scrub-pine and persimmon bushes 30 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING that crowned the farthest hill on the left. There was a short pause as the leading dogs came into view — a "little bobble," as Mr. Collingsworth phrased it — and they deployed about very rapidly, knowing by instinct that they had no time to lose. Old Blue, the colonel's dog, was still with the leaders, and seemed to be as spry as any of them. It was Old Blue, in fact, that recovered the drag a little to the right of the point where the dogs had made their appearance. The chase then swerved somewhat to the right, and half-way down the hill the dogs took a running jump at a ten-rail fence. Whalebone took it in grand style, knocking the top-rail off be- hind him. Rowan and Music went over easily, but Old Blue had to scramble a little. He made up for lost time when he did get over, and Mary grew enthusiastic. She de- clared that hereafter Old Blue should be treated with due respect. By this time the rest of the dogs had made their appearance. It was a pretty sight to see them swarming, helter-skelter, over the fence, and the sweet discord their voices made was thrilling: indeed. A rider appeared on the hill to the left. HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 31 It was Preston, and lie seemed to be riding easily and contentedly. On the hill to the right the silhouette of another rider appeared. It was Colston, and he was going as hard as he could. The fox, too, had given Colston a decided advantage, for he had swerved con- siderably to the left, a fact that placed Pres- ton nearly a half-mile farther from the dogs than Colston was. Collingsworth glanced at Mary and smiled, but she did not return the smile. She was very pale, and she swished the air with her riding-whip so suddenly and so vigorously that her horse jumped and snorted. " Don't do that, child ! " said Collings- worth, in a low tone. His eye had run ahead of the dogs, and he caught sight of the fox, doubling back up the valley, the dogs going down on one side of a low swampy growth that extended part of the way through the low ground, and the fox going back on the other side. He was going very nimbly, too, but his brush was heavy with dew, and his mouth was half open. Mary glanced at Collingsworth, but that gentleman was looking steadily at Preston. Then a singular thing happened. Preston, 32 HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING riding 1 to the hounds, raised his right hand above his head and held it there an instant. As quick as a flash, Collingsworth leaned from his saddle and shook his left hand, and then bent and unbent his arm rapidly. Pres- ton's roan filly seemed to understand it, for she made three or four leaps forward, and then came to a standstill. At this juncture Mr. Collingsworth gave the view halloo, — once, twice, thrice, — and then spurred his big gray toward the fox, which was now going at full speed. Whale- bone responded with a howl of delight that rang clear and sharp, and in another moment he and Rowan and Music and Old Blue were going with their heads up and tails down. When Bob, the negro, saw Old Blue going with the best, he gave utterance to a shout which few white men could imitate, but which no sensible dog could misunderstand. At that instant the four dogs caught sight of the fox, and they went after him at a pace that nei- ther he nor any of his tribe could improve on. He plunged into the swampy barrier, was forced out, and the dogs ran into him at the roan filly's feet. He leaped into the air with a squall, and fell into the red jaws of Whalebone and Old Blue. HOW WHALEBONE CAUSED A WEDDING 33 Preston leaped from the filly so quickly that some of the others thought he had been thrown. When he rose to his feet he held the coveted brush in his hand, and without saying " By your leave," tied it to Miss Mary's saddle-bow. Mr. Collingsworth growled a little because Music was not the first to touch the fox. But otherwise he seemed to be very happy. Colston rode up, a little flushed, but he was not sulky. Mary seemed to pay no attention whatever to the little episode. Her face was somewhat rosier than usual, but this was undoubtedly due to the excitement and exercise of the chase. When the belated hunters arrived — those who had ambled along with the colonel — the whole party turned their horses' heads toward the Rivers place, and, as they went along, Collingsworth noticed that Mary kej3t watch- ing the brush to see that it was not lost. A good deal more might be said, but I simply set out to explain why Matt Kilpat- rick of Putnam used to laugh and say that his dog Whalebone caused a wedding". THE COLONEL'S "NIGGER DOG" One morning Colonel Rivers of Jasper, standing on his back porch, called to a negro man who was passing through the yard. " Ben ! " « Yasser ! " " How 's everything at the home place ? " " Tollerble, suh, — des tollerble." " Tell Shade I want to see him this morn- ing." " Unk Shade done gone, suh. He sho is. He done gone ! " " Gone where ? " "He done tuck ter de woods, suh. Yas- ser ! he done ij-one ! " A frown clouded the colonel's otherwise pleasant brow. " What is the matter with the old simple- ton ? " " Some kinder gwines on 'twix him an' Marse Preston, suh. I dunno de rights un it. But Unk Shade done gone, suh ! " THE COLONEL'S "NIGGER DOG" 35 "When did he go?" " Yistiddy, suh." The colonel turned and went into the house, and the negro passed on, shaking his head and talking to himself. The colonel walked up and down the wide hall a little while, and then went into his library and flung himself into an easy-chair. As it hap- pened, the chair sat facing his writing-desk, and over the desk hung a large portrait of his mother. It was what people call "a speaking likeness," and the colonel felt this as he looked at it. The face was full of character. Firmness shone in the eyes and played about the lips. The colonel regarded the portrait with an interest that was almost new. Old Shade in the woods, — old Shade a runaway ! What would his mother say if she were alive ? The colonel felt, too, — he could not help but feel, — that he was largely responsible for the fact that old Shade was a fugitive. When Mary Rivers married Jack Preston, the colonel, Mary's father, insisted that the couple should live at the old home place. The desire was natural. Mary was the apple of his eye, and he wanted to see her rule in 36 THE COLONEL'S " NIGGER DOG" the home over which his mother had reiffned. The colonel himself had been born there, and his mother had lived there for more than forty years. His father had died in 1830, but his mother lived until the day after the fiftieth anniversary of her wedding. For near a quarter of a century this excel- lent lady had been the manager of her own estate, and she had succeeded, by dint of hard and pinching economy and untiring energy, in retrieving the fortune which her husband had left in a precarious condition. It was said of the colonel's father, William Rivers, that he was a man perverse in his ways and with a head full of queer notions, and it seems to be certain that he frittered away large opportunities in pursuit of small ones. When William Rivers died he left his widow as a legacy four . small boys — the colonel, the oldest, was in his teens — a past-due mortgage on the plantation, and a whole raft (as you may say) of small debts. She had one consolation that she breathed often to her little boys, — their father had lived temperately and died a Christian. Be- sides that consolation, she had an abundance THE COLONEL'S "NIGGER DOG" 37 of hope and energy. She could have sold a negro or two, but there were only a dozen of them, big and little, and they were all mem- bers of one family. The older ones had grown up with their mistress, and the younger ones she had nursed and attended through many an hour's sickness. She would have parted with her rio-ht hand sooner than sell one of them. She took her little boys from school — the youngest was ten and the oldest four- teen — and put them to work in the fields with the negroes for one year. At the end of that period she began to see daylight, as it were, and then the boys went back to school, but their vacations for several years afterward were spent behind the plough. She was as uncompromising in her business as in her religion. In one she stickled for the last thrip that was her due ; in the other she be- lieved in the final perseverance of the saints. It is enough to say that she succeeded. She transacted her own business. She did it well at the very beginning, and thereafter with an aptitude that was constantly grow- ing. She paid the estate out of debt, and added to it, and when her oldest son gradu- ated at Princeton, she had the finest and 38 THE COLONEL'S " NIGGER BOG" most profitable plantation in Jasper County. All the old people said that if her father, Judge Walthall, could have returned to life, he would have been proud of the success of his daughter, which was in that day and still remains the most remarkable event in the annals of Jasper County. The main dependence of Mrs. Rivers, even after her boys grew up, was a negro man named Shadrach. He grew old with his mis- tress and imbibed many of her matter-of-fact ways and methods. At first he was known as Uncle Shed, but the negro pronunciation lengthened this to Shade, and he was known by everybody in the counties round as Uncle Shade. Uncle Shade knew how important his ser- vices were to his mistress and what store she set by his energy and faithfulness, and the knowledge made him more independent in his attitude and temper than the average negro. The truth is, he was not an aver- age negro, and he knew it. He knew it by the fact that the rest of the negroes obeyed his most exacting orders with as much alac- rity as they obeyed those of white men, and were quite as anxious to please him. He THE COLONEL'S "NIGGER BOG" 39 knew it, too, by the fact that his mistress had selected him in preference to his own father to take charge of the active manage- ment of the plantation business. The selection was certainly a good one. Whatever effect it may have had on Uncle Shade, it was the salvation of the plans of his mistress. The negro seemed to have a keen appreciation of the necessities of the situation. He worked the hands harder than any white man could have worked them, and kept them in a good humor by doing as much as any two of them. The Saturday half-holiday was abolished for a time, and the ploughs and the hoes were kept going just as long as the negroes could see how to run a furrow. A theory of the neighborhood was that Uncle Shade was afraid of going to the sher- iff's block, and if this theory was wrong it was at least plausible. The majority of those who worked under Uncle Shade were his own flesh and blood, but his mistress had made bold to hire four extra negroes in order to carry out the plans she had in view, and these four worked as hard and as cheerfully as any of the rest. 40 THE COLONEL'S " NIGGER DOG" Such was the energy with which Uncle Shade managed the rougher details of the plantation work, that at the end of the first year his mistress saw her way clear to enlar- ging her plans. She found that within five years she would be able to pay off all the old debts and make large profits to boot. So she sent her boys back to school, bought two of the four hired hands, and hired four more. These new ones, under Uncle Shade's man- agement, worked as willingly as the others. In this way the estate was cleared of debt, and gradually enlarged, and Mrs. Rivers had been able, in the midst of it all, to send her boys to Princeton, where they took high rank in their studies. The youngest drifted to California in the fifties, and disappeared ; the second went into business in Charleston as a cotton factor and commission merchant. The oldest, after tak- ing a law course, settled down at home, prac- ticed law a little and farmed a great deal. He finally fell in love with a schoolma'am from Connecticut. His mother, who had been through the mill, as the saying is, and knew all about the dignity and lack of dignity there is in labor, rather approved the match, THE COLONEL'S "NIGGER DOG" 41 although some of the neighbors, whose pre- tensions were far beyond their possessions, shook their heads and said that the young man might have done better. Nevertheless, the son did very well indeed. He did a great deal better than some of those who criticised his choice, for he got a wife who knew how to put her shoulder to the wheel when there was any necessity for it, and how to economize when her husband's purse was pinched. The son, having married the woman of his choice, built him a home within a stone's throw of his mother's, and during her life not a day passed but he spent a part of it in her company. He had always been fond of his mother, and as he grew older, his filial devotion was fortified and strengthened by the profound impression which her character made on him. It was a character that had been moulded on heroic lines. As a child, she had imbibed the spirit of the Revolution, and everything she said and did was flavored with the energy and in- dependence that gave our colonial society its special and most beautiful significance, — the significance of candor and simplicity. Something of his mistress's energy and in- 42 THE COLONEL'S "NIGGER DOG" dependence was reflected in the character of Uncle Shade, and the result of it was that he was not very popular with those that did not know him well. The young master came back from college with a highly improved idea of his own importance. His mother, although she was secretly proud of his airs, told him with trenchant bluntness that his vanity stuck out like a pot-leg and must be lopped off. This was bad enough, but when Uncle Shade let it be understood that he was n't going to run hither and yon at the beck and call of a boy, nothing prevented a collision but the firm will that controlled everything on the plantation. After that, both the young master and the negro were more considerate of each other, but neither forgot the little episode. When the young man married, he and Uncle Shade saw less of each other, and there was no more friction between them for four or five years. But in 1850 the negro's mistress died, and he and the rest of the negroes, together with the old home place, became the property of the son, who was now a prosperous planter, looked up to by his neighbors, and given the title of colonel THE COLONEL'S " NIGGER BOG" 43 by those who knew no other way of showing their respect and esteem. But in her will the colonel's mother made ample provision, as she thought, for the protection of Uncle Shade. He was to retain, under all circum- stances, his house on the home place ; he was never to be sold, and he was to be treated with the consideration due to a ser- vant who had cheerfully given more than the best part of his life to the service of the family. The terms of the will were strictly com- plied with. The colonel had loved his mother tenderly, and he respected her memory. He made it a point to treat Uncle Shade with consideration. He appealed to his judgment whenever opportunity offered, and frequently found it profitable to do so. But the old negro still held himself aloof. Whether from grief at the death of his mistress, or for other reasons, he lost interest in the affairs of the plantation. The other negroes said he was " lonesome," and this description of his con- dition, vague as it was, was perhaps the best that could be given. Except in the matter of temper, Uncle Shade was not the negro he was before his old mistress died. 44 THE COLONEL'S "NIGGER DOG" This was the state of affairs when the colo- nel's daughter, Mary, married Jack Preston in 1861. When this event occurred, the colonel insisted that the young couple should take up their abode at the old home place. He had various sentimental reasons for this. For one thing, Mary was very much like her grandmother, in spite of her youth and beauty. Those who had known the old lady remarked the " favor " — as they called it — as soon as they saw the granddaughter. For another, the old home place was close at hand, almost next door, and the house and grounds had been kept in apple-pie order by Uncle Shade. The flower-garden was the finest to be seen in all that region, and the house itself and every room of it was as carefully kept as if the dead mistress had simply gone on a visit and was likely to return at any moment. Naturally, the young couple found it hard to resist the entreaties of the colonel, particu- larly as Mary objected very seriously to living in town. So they went to the old home place, and were affably received by Uncle Shade. They found everything arranged to their hands. Their first meal at the old home place was THE COLONEL'S "NIGGER DOG" 45 dinner. The colonel had told Uncle Shade that he would have company at noon, and they found the dinner smoking on the table when they arrived. A young negro man was set to wait on the table. He made some blun- der, and instantly a young negro girl came in, smiling, to take his place. Uncle Shade, who was standing in the door of the dining- room, dressed in his Sunday best, took the offender by the arm as he passed out, and in a little while those who were at table heard the swish of a buggy whip as it fell on the negro's shoulders. The unusual noise set the chickens to cackling, the turkeys to gobbling, and the dog's to barking". " Old man," said Preston, when Uncle Shade had gravely resumed his place near the dining-room door, " take 'em farther away from the house the next time you kill em." " I '11 do so, suh," replied Uncle Shade dryly, and with a little frown. Matters went along smoothly enough for all concerned, but somehow Preston failed to appreciate the family standing and importance of Uncle Shade. The young man was as genial and as clever as the day is long, but he knew 46 TEE COLONEL'S " NIGGER DOG" nothing of the sensitiveness of an old family servant. On the other hand, Uncle Shade had a dim idea of Preston's ignorance, and resented it. He regarded the young man as an interloper in the family, and made little effort to conceal his feelings. One thing led to another until finally there was an explosion. Preston would have taken harsh measures, but Uncle Shade gathered up a bundle of " duds," and took to the woods. Nominally he was a runaway, but he came and went pretty much as suited his pleasure, always taking care to keep out of the way of Preston. At last the colonel, who had made the way clear for Uncle Shade to come back and make an apology, grew tired of waiting for that event ; the longer he waited, the longer the old negro stayed away. The colonel made one or two serious efforts to see Uncle Shade, but the old darky, mis- understanding his intentions, made it a point to elude him. Finding his efforts in this di- rection unavailing, the colonel grew angry. He had something of his mother's disposition — a little of her temper if not much of her energy — and he decided to take a more seri- THE COLONEL'S "NIGGER DOG" 47 ous view of Uncle Shade's capers. It was a shame and a disgrace, anyhow, that one of the Rivers negroes should be hiding in the woods without any excuse, and the colonel determined to put an end to it once for all. He would do more — he would teach Uncle Shade once for all that there was a limit to the forbearance with which he had been treated. Therefore, after trying many times to cap- ture Uncle Shade and always without success, the colonel announced to his wife that he had formed a plan calculated to bring the old negro to terms. " What is it ? " his wife asked. " Well, I '11 tell you," said the colonel, hes- itating a little. " I 'm going to get me a nigger dog and run old Shade down and catch him, if it takes me a year to do it." The wife regarded the husband with amaze- ment. " Why, Mr. Rivers, what are you thinking of?" she exclaimed. "You don't mean to tell me that you are going to put yourself on a level with Bill Favers and go trolloping around the country, hunting negroes with hound-dogs? I never heard you say that 48 THE COLONEL'S " NIGGER DOG" any o£ your family ever stooped to such as that." " They never did," the colonel rejoined testily. " But they never had such a rantan- kerous nigfffer to deal with." " Just as he is, just so he was made," was Mrs. Rivers's matter-of-fact comment. " I know that mighty well," said the colonel. " But the time has come when he ought to be taken in hand. I could get Bill Favers's dogs and run him down in an hour, but I 'm going to catch my own nigger with my own nigger dog." " Why, Mr. Rivers, you have n't a dog on the place that will run a pig out of the gar- den, much less catch a negro. There are ten or fifteen hound-dogs around the yard, and they are actually too no-account to scratch the fleas off." " Well," replied the colonel, wincing a lit- tle, " Matt Kilpatrick has promised to give me one of his beagles, and I 'm going to take him and train him to track niggers." " Another dog on the place ! " exclaimed Mrs. Rivers. " Well, you '11 have to sell some negroes. We can't afford to feed a lot of no-account negroes and no-account dogs THE COLONEL'S " NIGGER DOG" 49 without selling- something. You can't even give the dogs away — and I would n't let you impose on anybody that way, if you could ; so you '11 have to sell some of the negroes. They are lazy and no-account enough, good- ness knows, but they can manage to walk around and pick up chips and get a thimble- ful of milk from twenty cows, and sweep off the porch when there 's anybody to keep them awake." Nevertheless, the colonel got his beagle, and he soon came to take more interest in it than in all his other dogs. He named it Jeff, after Matt Kilpatrick's old beagle, and Jeff turned out to be the cutest little dog ever seen in that section. The colonel trained him assiduously. Twice a day he 'd hold Jeff and make one of the little negroes run down by the spring-house and out across the cow-lot. When the little negro was well out of sight the colonel would unleash Jeff and away the miniature hunt would go across the fields, the colonel cheering it on in regulation style. The colonel's " nigger dog " was eight months old when he was taken in hand, and by the time he was a year old he had developed amazingly. The claim was gravely made that 50 THE COLONEL'S " NIGGER DOG" he had a colder nose than Bill Favers's dog Sound, who could follow a scent thirty-six hours old. It is not to be supposed that the training of Jeff Avent no farther than tracking the little negroes within si^ht of the house. The time speedily came when he was put on the trails of negroes who had hours the start, — negroes who crept along on fences and waded wide streams in their efforts to baffle the dog. But Jeff was not easily baffled. He devel- oped such intelligence and such powers of discriminating scent as would have put to shame the lubberly and inefficient dogs known as bloodhounds. Bloodhounds have figured very largely in fiction and in the newspapers as the incarnation of ferocity and intelligence. As a matter of fact, Jeff, the little beagle, could have whipped a shuck-pen full of them without ever showing his teeth, and he could run half a mile while a bloodhound was holding 1 his senseless head in the air to give tongue. Naturally the colonel was very proud of Jeff. He had the dog always at his heels, whether going to town or about the planta- tion, and he waited for the opportunity to THE COLONEL'S " NIGGER DOG" 51 come when be might run Uncle Shade to his hiding-place in the swamps of Murder Creek and capture him. The opportunity was not long in coming, though it seemed long to the colonel's impatience. There was this much to be said about Uncle Shade. He had grown somewhat wary, and he had warned all the negroes on both plan- tations that if they made any reports of his movements, the day of wrath would soon come for them. And they believed him fully, so that, for some months, he might have been whirled away on a cloud or swallowed by the earth for all the colonel could hear or dis- cover. But one day, while he was dozing in his library, he heard a dialogue between the housemaid and the cook. The housemaid was sweeping in the rear hall, and the cook was fixing things in the dining-room. They judged by the stillness of the house that there was no one to overhear them. " Mighty quare 'bout Unk Shade," said the house-girl. " Huh ! dat ole nigger-man de devil, mon ! " replied the cook, rattling the dishes. " I boun' ef 'twuz any er we-all gwine on 52 THE COLONEL'S "NIGGER DOG" dat away runnin' off an' comin' back when we git good an' ready, an' eatin' right dar in de house in broad daylight, an' marster gwine right by de do' — I boun' you we 'd be kotch an' fotch back," remarked the girl, in an in- jured tone. " La ! I ain't studyin' 'bout ole Shade kingin' it 'roun' here," exclaimed the cook. " He been gwine on dat away so long dat 't ain't nothin' new." Here she paused and laughed heartily. " What you laughin' at ? " inquired the girl, pausing in her work. " At de way dat ole nigger man been gwine on," responded the cook. " I hear tell dat marster got dat ar little houn'-dog trainin' now fer ter track ole Shade down. Dar de dog an' dar old Shade, but dey ain't been no trackin' done yit. Dat dog bleedzter be no 'count, kaze all he got ter do is to go down dar by the house whar ole Shade live at 'twix' daybreak an' sun-up, an' dar he '11 fin' de track er dat ole nigger man hot an' fresh." " I don't keer ef dey does ketch 'im," said the house-girl, by way of comment. " De wuss frailin' I ever got he