pliant saplings! Then, on a run, they would rush back to start the stroke
again, while the old Squire yelled:

"Hit her up thar now--easy--easy! NOW! Hit her up! Hit her up--NOW!"

Now they passed between upright, wooded, gray mountain-sides, threaded with
faint lines of the coming green; now between gray walls of rock streaked white
with water-falls, and now past narrow little valleys which were just beginning
to sprout with corn. At the mouth of the creeks they saw other rafts making
ready and, now and then, a raft would shoot out in the river from some creek
ahead or behind them. In an hour, they struck a smooth run of several hundred
yards where the men at the oars could sit still and rest, while the raft shot
lightly forward in the middle of the stream; and down the river they could see
the big Dillons making the next sharp turn and, even that far away, they could
hear Jerry yelling and swearing at his patient brother.

"Some o' these days," said the old Squire, "that fool Jake's a-goin' to pick
up somethin' an' knock that mean Jerry's head off. I wonder he hain't done it
afore. Hit's funny how brothers can hate when they do git to hatin'."

That night, they tied up at Jackson--to be famous long after the war as the
seat of a bitter mountain-feud. At noon the next day, they struck "the
Nahrrers" (Narrows), where the river ran like a torrent between high steep
walls of rock, and where the men stood to the oars watchfully and the old
squire stood upright, watching every movement of the raft; for "bowing" there
would have meant destruction to the raft and the death of them all. That night
they were in Beattyville, whence they floated next day, along lower hills and,
now and then, past a broad valley. Once Chad looked at the school-master--he
wondered if they were approaching the Bluegrass--but Caleb Hazel smiled and
shook his head. And had Chad waited another half hour, he would not have asked