CHAPTER III

A NEW ACQUAINTANCE

I drew rein upon the upper river bank, before we finally plunged into
the dark woods beyond, and glanced back. I had to brush the gathering
tears from my eyes before I could see clearly; and when I finally rode
away, the picture of that dear old home was fixed in my memory forever.
Our house stood near the centre of an oak opening,--a little patch of
native prairie-land, with a narrow stream skirting it on one side, and
a dense fringe of forest all about. The small story-and-a-half cabin
of hewn logs, with its lean-to of rough hand-riven planks, fronted to
the southward; and the northern expanse of roof was green with moss.
My father sat in the open doorway, his uplifted hand shading his eyes
as he gazed after us; while my mother stood by his side, one arm
resting upon the back of his chair, the other extended, waving a white
cloth in farewell. Rover was without, where I had bidden him remain,
eagerly watching for some signal of relenting upon my part. Beyond
stood the rude out-buildings, silhouetted against the deep green. It
was a homely, simple scene,--yet till now it had been all the world to
me.

With a final wave of the hand, I moved forward, until the intervening
trees, like the falling of a curtain, hid it all from view. Seth was
astride the old mare, riding bareback, his white goat-like beard
hanging down his breast until it mingled with her mane, while his long
thin legs were drawn up in the awkward way he had. He was a strange,