"Whut we've got to do,we've got to do mighty quick,"he began,at last."Things air changin'.I seed it over thar in Breathitt.The soldiers 'n'that scar-faced Jellico preacher hev broke up the fightin'over thar,'n'ef we don't watch out,they'll be a-doin'it hyeh,when we start our leetle frolic.We hain't got no time to fool.Old Jas knows this as well as me,'n'thar's goin'to be mighty leetle chance fer 'em to layway 'n'pick us off from the bresh.Thar's goin'to be fa'r fightin'fer once,thank the Lord.They bushwhacked us dunn'the war,'n'they've laywayed us 'n'shot us to pieces ever sence;but now,ef God A'mighty's willin',the thing's a-goin'to be settled one way or t'other at last,I reckon."He stopped a moment to think.The men's breathing could be heard,so quiet was the room,and Rufe went on telling in detail,slowly,as if to himself,the wrongs the Lewallens had done his people.When he came to old Jasper his voice was low,and his manner was quieter than ever.
"Now old Jas have got to the p'int whar he says as how nobody in this county kin undersell him 'n'stay hyeh.Old Jas druv Bond Vickers out'n the mount 'ins fer tryin'hit.He druv Jess Hale away;'n'them two air our kin."The big mountaineer turned then,and knocked the ashes from his pipe.His eyes grew a little brighter,and his nostrils spread,but with a sweep of his arm he added,still quietly:
"Y'all know whut he's done."
The gesture lighted memories of personal wrongs in every breast;he had tossed a fire-brand among fagots,and an angry light began to burn from the eyes that watched him.
"Ye know,too,that he thinks he has played the same game with me;but ye don't know,I reckon,that he had ole Jim Stover 'n'that mis'-able Eli Crump a-hidin'in the bushes to shoot me "-again he grasped the torn lapel;"that a body warned me to git away from Hazlan;n'the night I left home they come thar to kill me,'n's'arched the house,'n'skeered Mollie n'the leetle gal 'most to death."The mountaineer's self-control was lost suddenly in a furious oath.
The men did know,but in fresh anger they leaned forward in their chairs,and twisted about with smothered curses.The old woman had stopped smoking,and was rocking her body to and fro.Her lips were drawn in upon her toothless gums,and her pipe was clinched against her sunken breast.The head of the old mountaineer was lifted,and his eyes were open and shining fiercely.
"I hear as how he says I'm gone fer good.Well,I have been kinder easy-goin',hatin'to fight,but sence the day I seed Rome's dad thar dead in his blood,I hev had jes one thing I wanted to do.Thar wasn't no use stayin'hyeh;I seed that.Rome thar was too leetle,and they was too many fer me.I knowed it was easier to git a new start out West,'n'when I come back to the mount'in,hit was to do jes-whut I'm -going -to -do -now."He wheeled suddenly upon Rome,with one huge hand lifted.Under it the old woman's voice rose in a sudden wail:
Yes;'n'I want to see it done befoh I die.I hain't hyeh fer long,but Ihain't goin'to leave as long as ole Jas is hyeh,'n'I want ye all to know it.Ole Jas hev got to go fust.You hear me,Rome?I'm a-talkin'to you;I'm a-talkin'to you.Hit's yo'time now!
The frenzied chant raised Rome from his chair.Rufe himself took up the spirit of it,and his voice was above all caution.
"Yes,Rome!They killed him,boy.They sneaked on him,'n'shot him to pieces from the bushes.Yes;hit's yo'time now!Look hyeh,boys!"He reached above the fireplace and took down an old rifle-his brother's-which the old mother had suffered no one to touch.He held it before the fire,pointing to two crosses made near the flash-pan."Thar's one fer ole Jim Lewallen!Thar's one fer ole Jas!He got Jim,but ole Jas has got him,'n'thar's his cross thar yit!Whar's yo'gun,Rome?Shame on ye,boy!"The wild-eyed old woman was before him.She had divined Rufe's purpose,and was already at his side,with Rome's Winchester in one hand and a clasp-knife in the other.Every man was on his feet;the door was open,and the boy Isom was at the threshold,his eyes blazing from his whitc face.Rome had strode forward.
Yes,boy;now's the time,right hyeh before us all!
The mother had the knife outstretched.Rome took it,and the scratch of the point on the hard steel went twice through the stillness-one more fer the young un";the voice was the old mother's-then twice again.
The moon was sinking when Rome stood in the door alone.The tramp of horses was growing fainter down the mountain.The trees were swaying in the wind below him,and he could just see the gray cliffs on the other shore.The morning seemed far away;it made him dizzy looking back to it through the tumult of the day.
Somewhere in the haze was the vision of a girl's white face-white with distress for him.Her father and her brother he had sworn to kill.He had made a cross for each,and each cross was an oath.
He closed the door;and then he gave way,and sat down with his head in both hands.The noises in the kitchen ceased.The fire died away,and the chill air gathered about him.When he rose,the restless eyes of the boy were upon him from the shadows.
