is wrong: Otto would not have put the horse on a dead run if he
hadn't been scared."

Jack Carleton proved his training by the keenness and quickness with
which he surveyed his surroundings. The woods were on every hand,
but they were open and free from undergrowth, so that he gained an
extensive view.

As he advanced with vigorous steps along the winding path, his eyes
sometimes rested on the pendulous branches of the majestic elm, a
small purple flower here and there still clinging to the limbs and
resisting the budding leaves striving to force it aside; the massive
oak and its twisted, iron limbs; the pinnated leaves of the hickory,
whose solid trunk, when gashed by the axe, was of snowy whiteness;
the pale green spikes and tiny flowers of the chestnut; the
sycamore, whose spreading limbs found themselves crowded even in the
most open spaces, with an occasional wild cherry or tulip, and now
and then a pine, whose resinous breath brooded like a perennial balm
over the vast solitude.

Jack Carleton was arrayed in the coarse, serviceable garb of the
border: heavy calf-skin shoes, thick trousers, leggings and coat,
the latter short and clasped at the waist by a girdle, also of
woolen and similar to that of the modern ulster. The cap was of the
same material and, like the other garments, had been fashioned and
put together by the deft hands of the mother in Kentucky.
Powder-horn and bullet-pouch were suspended by strings passing over
alternate sides of the neck and a fine flint-lock rifle, the
inseparable companion of the Western youth, rested on the right
shoulder, the hand grasping it near the stock.