The ocean o' progress," went on the mountaineer, with a flourish, "has
rolled all 'roun' the mount'ns, but of all the fleets o' commerce in all
these years, thar has not been one to send out a boat to help the
marooned mount'neer."

"Didn't they ever try to get help?" queried the boy.

"We're not askin' help," the Kentuckian said, "thar's no whinin' on the
mount'ns. I jes' tell yo' that when the time comes for the mount'neers
o' Kentucky an' Virginia an' Tennessee an' Carolina to get a fair
chance, they'll show yo' as fine a race o' men an' women as the Stars
an' Stripes flies over."

"They are mighty fine right now, I think," the boy said.

"They have their good points," the Kentuckian agreed; "thar's nothin'
sneakin' in the men up hyeh, an' thar an't any lengths to which a man
won't go, to do what he thinks is the squar thing. You've heard about
the Beaupoints?"

"No," the boy answered, "what was that?"

"It was jes' an incident in one o' these feuds that you were talkin' of,
an' I'm goin' to tell yo' about it, to show yo' what a mount'neer's
idee o' honor is like. Thar was a family livin' on the other side o' the
Ridge, not a great ways from hyeh, by the name o' Calvern, an' in some
way or other--I never heard the rights of it--they took to shootin' up
the Beaupoints every chance that come along. One day Dandie Beaupoint
found a little girl that had hurt herself, an' he picked her up in his
arms an' was carryin' her home when one o' the Calvern boys shot him in