Latest / Classic Dog Stories / The Pursuit, by Samuel A. Derieux

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The Pursuit, by Samuel A. Derieux · Classic Dog Stories

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Speaker 1: Section eight of Best Dog Stories. This is a LibriVox recording.
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Speaker 1: All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more
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Speaker 1: information or to volunteer, please visit libervox dot org. Section eight.
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Speaker 1: The pursuit by Samuel A d'arreeu cyclone. Bill Simmons, burly,
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Speaker 1: hard and crimson of face, turned an overheated runabout out
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Speaker 1: of the blazing highway and into a grove of oaks
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Speaker 1: where stood the convict camp. All right, he said, get out,
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Speaker 1: Tom Abercrombie face drawn hands, manacled clambered out of the car.
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Speaker 1: He was a man of sixty or thereabout, long, lank wiry,
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Speaker 1: with a white patriarchal beard and white beetling brows. His
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Speaker 1: cheap suit of black and his black slouch hat were
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Speaker 1: covered with dust. That way, ordered Simmons, as if he
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Speaker 1: did not hear. The old man glanced about him at
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Speaker 1: the long weather stained tent, open at both ends and
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Speaker 1: at the sides, and showing within two rows of untidy bunks,
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Speaker 1: at the smaller tents that formed a hollow square, at
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Speaker 1: the shed for mules. Deeper within the grove, at the
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Speaker 1: small group of Negro convicts, cooks and trustees who from
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Speaker 1: near the big tent, stared curiously at him. This way,
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Speaker 1: repeated Simmons harshly. The lean cheeks flushed. The old man
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Speaker 1: looked quickly at Simmons, who during the twenty mile drive
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Speaker 1: from the county seat had not spoken a word to him.
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Speaker 1: Then head bowed, he followed the man towards one of
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Speaker 1: the smaller tents. It was plainly the guard tent. It
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Speaker 1: stood at the entrance to the camp, where a path
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Speaker 1: turned in from the road. In front, under the shade
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Speaker 1: of an oak, were two or three splint bottom chairs
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Speaker 1: and chained to the oak by a staple. Driven into
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Speaker 1: the trunk, drowsing in the heat of the summer mid afternoon,
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Speaker 1: lay a bloodhound. He had barely looked up when the
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Speaker 1: car drove in. His heavy black body with its tan
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Speaker 1: belly and legs, was completely relaxed, and he was panting slightly.
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Speaker 1: His head, which he held up as with an effort,
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Speaker 1: was massive, leonine, rugged with chops and dewlaps that hung
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Speaker 1: loosely down, giving the impression of a detached and judicial
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Speaker 1: attitude towards life. His expression was grave, thoughtful, melancholy, as
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Speaker 1: of his ancestors pondering through the sentries on the frailty
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Speaker 1: of humanity as they saw it, had set their indelible
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Speaker 1: stamp of gloom and sorrow on his face. Toward the end,
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Speaker 1: the burly guard and the tall bearded prisoner made their way.
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Speaker 1: There are men to whom no dog can be insensible,
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Speaker 1: men with a secret quality of magnetism of understanding, which
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Speaker 1: makes any dog at their approach look up. When Simmons passed,
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Speaker 1: the great hound did not stir, But when Tom Abercrombie
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Speaker 1: came opposite him, he lifted his buzzle, grizzled with age
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Speaker 1: and his melancholy. The amber colored eyes met the man's.
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Speaker 1: The old man stopped. It was as if he had
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Speaker 1: found in all this strangeness a friend. He spoke before
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Speaker 1: he thought, half under his breath. Old whiskers, he said, gently,
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Speaker 1: Old gray whiskers. Simmons turned in a flash, his face
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Speaker 1: suddenly more crimson than ever, his eyes blazing. What did
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Speaker 1: you say to that dog? He yelled. The old man
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Speaker 1: looked at him steadily, but did not reply. Now Here,
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Speaker 1: the guard's voice rang out in the grove. I know you, Abercrombie,
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Speaker 1: and I know your game, you bloody long whiskered knife
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Speaker 1: tote in throat cutter. You're trying to make friends with
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Speaker 1: that dog. He went to a nearby bush, got out
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Speaker 1: his knife and cut a heavy switch. Take this, he commanded, Oh,
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Speaker 1: you can catch hold of it. Catch it with both hands,
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Speaker 1: never mind the bracelets. Take it. Hit that dog hit him.
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Speaker 1: The dream like state in which the old man had
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Speaker 1: been wandering dissolved. His eyes narrowed to mere behind the
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Speaker 1: beetling brows, the cold steel of the mountaineer. The mountaineer
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Speaker 1: who weighs his words, was in the slow drawled reply,
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Speaker 1: while now I reckon, I won't. A moment they faced
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Speaker 1: each other, Simmons' eyes murderous, some fear of an investigation
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Speaker 1: if he struck the old man. Something daunting too, that
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Speaker 1: he saw in the mountaineer's eyes restrained him. Abercrombie, he said,
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Speaker 1: and moistened his lips with his tongue. I've brought out
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Speaker 1: in that car three boxes of shotgun shells bug shot,
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Speaker 1: extra heavy loaded. Get me. Such was the initiation of
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Speaker 1: old Tom Abercrombie as a convict. That afternoon, he was
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Speaker 1: entered on the books as a dangerous prisoner. That night,
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Speaker 1: he lay on an iron cot, staring up at the
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Speaker 1: roof of a solitary tent, which, according to law, had
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Speaker 1: to be provided for him. On his ankles were locked
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Speaker 1: two steel anklets connected by a chain eighteen inches long.
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Speaker 1: This chain, in turn was locked to the cot. Shame
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Speaker 1: lay with him as he stared upward, Shame and a
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Speaker 1: terrible loneliness and dread of the future. At sunset, he
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Speaker 1: had watched a long line of shackled negroes, followed by
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Speaker 1: guards with shotguns, file into camp. Tomorrow he himself would
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Speaker 1: be one of that gang, and not only tomorrow, but
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Speaker 1: for two years. Assault and battery with intent to kill.
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Speaker 1: This was the verdict. And yet he hadn't intended to
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Speaker 1: kill anybody. He had only meant to remonstrate three young fellows.
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Speaker 1: Sitting at a table in a cheap ice cream parlor.
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Speaker 1: It had seemed a crystal palace to the old man
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Speaker 1: and to Molly, his wife. Fresh from the deepest recesses
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Speaker 1: of the mountain, had made fun of Molly and her
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Speaker 1: sun bonnet. When they did that. The mirrors that lined
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Speaker 1: the walls, the enameled top tables, the sunlit street showing
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Speaker 1: through wide open doors, had all turned red before his eyes.
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Speaker 1: He had risen from his chair and gone toward the
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Speaker 1: sea of this scornful You fellers, he had worn in
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Speaker 1: a low voice. You fellers don't want to say anything
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Speaker 1: like that. Again, they had looked at him in sullen astonishment.
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Speaker 1: Then they had sprung to their feet. According to the
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Speaker 1: testimony they gave in court, he had confronted one of
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Speaker 1: them an open knife hidden up his sleeve. This was
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Speaker 1: not true, and he denied it stoutly on the stand.
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Speaker 1: As a matter of fact, he had not thought of
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Speaker 1: his knife until the three young bruisers, habitues of the
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Speaker 1: place and of the questionable pool room in the rear,
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Speaker 1: rushed him altogether, and a dirty aproned waiter coming up
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Speaker 1: from behind, hit him a crack that jarred his skull.
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Speaker 1: Then he had sprung back and drawn his knife. The
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Speaker 1: wounds he inflicted were not serious. He had simply held
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Speaker 1: his assailants off. But the policeman who ran in, followed
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Speaker 1: by a crowd, found the knife in his hand. The
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Speaker 1: testimony was against him. Besides, he did not make a
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Speaker 1: good witness. No man does who holds something back, And
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Speaker 1: what old Tom held back was the remark the young
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Speaker 1: man had made. On that point. His lips were stubbornly sealed.
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Speaker 1: He did not even tell his lawyer. As for Molly,
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Speaker 1: she had not heard, poor girl, she was a bit deaf.
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Speaker 1: Her sunbonnet came down close over her ears, and she
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Speaker 1: had been eating her ice cream oblivious. He did not
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Speaker 1: want her to know. Ever, he did not want the
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Speaker 1: court to hear. What's more, he did not mean that
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Speaker 1: it should hear. The courts of justice, like the mills
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Speaker 1: of the gods, ought to grind slow and grind, exceeding
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Speaker 1: small sifting carefully the evidence, examining deeply into the character
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Speaker 1: and motives of accuser and accuse. But the gods have
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Speaker 1: eternity at their disposal, and their mills are run by unerring,
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Speaker 1: self administering laws, while the courts are sometimes harassed with
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Speaker 1: a heavy docket that must be got through with, and
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Speaker 1: the laws are made and administered by erring mortals. When
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Speaker 1: they are overcrowded, there is inevitably now and then a victim.
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Speaker 1: Hence Old tom Abercrombie chained to staring up at the
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Speaker 1: roof of a tent, oppressed with a terrible loneliness, thinking
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Speaker 1: of a long double cabin in a mountain girded valley
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Speaker 1: far over the Tennessee line, where he and Molly had
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Speaker 1: lived forty years, of the cornfields in a creek, bottom
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Speaker 1: of children and grandchildren, of widely scattered neighbors and friends.
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Speaker 1: Next day he was put to driving four mules hit
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Speaker 1: to a road scraper, chains clanking, He had to climb
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Speaker 1: as best he could into the iron seat, the humiliation
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Speaker 1: of striped clothes. He was spared that barbarity had been
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Speaker 1: done away with by law. He wore his black trousers,
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Speaker 1: a blue shirt, and his broad brimmed hat. Once on
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Speaker 1: the seat, no one passing along the road could see
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Speaker 1: his shackles, but as if they were heated red hot,
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Speaker 1: the symbols of shame burned into his flesh. In the
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Speaker 1: road ahead and in the road behind, Negro pickers and
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Speaker 1: shovelers toiled away, watched over by guards with shotguns. He
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Speaker 1: saw the eyes of these guards turned constantly toward him.
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Speaker 1: You want to watch that old devil Simmons had worn them.
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Speaker 1: He's dangerous. The days that followed were all alike, days
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Speaker 1: of toil that began before sunrise, continued through blazing mid days,
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Speaker 1: and ended after sundown. Always before and behind the gang
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Speaker 1: picked and shoveled, always the eyes of the guards were
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Speaker 1: turning toward him, always against the horizon. The mountains, like
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Speaker 1: at midday, with clouds and shadows, beckoned him like a mirage.
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Speaker 1: Sometimes from the top of a hill under his broad hat,
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Speaker 1: he studied the lay of the land. In his mind,
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Speaker 1: he mapped out the water courses and the stretches of
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Speaker 1: woodland that led with least open country to the mountains.
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Speaker 1: Sometimes at night he dreamed of a double cabin in
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Speaker 1: a cool mountain girded valley. You want to watch him,
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Speaker 1: warned Simmons, again and again. Once Molly came to see him,
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Speaker 1: Simmons himself at the guard tent, questioned her roughly, then
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Speaker 1: shrugged his shoulders and let her pass. Throughout the interview,
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Speaker 1: though he sat over there by the guard tent, his
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Speaker 1: eyes always on the two of them, and at his side,
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Speaker 1: but never looking up at him. They share the bloodhound panting.
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Speaker 1: She told him how hard she had tried to get
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Speaker 1: him off, how hard his friends had tried. They had
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Speaker 1: been to see the solicitor, the sheriff, and finally the
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Speaker 1: governor himself. They were all nice to me, Tom, She
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Speaker 1: declared that they say they can't do nothing. The governor
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Speaker 1: talked to me a long time in his office. He
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Speaker 1: asked about all of us, where we lived, how many
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Speaker 1: children we had, how it all happened. But he says
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Speaker 1: he was elected to see the laws carried out and
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Speaker 1: can't interfere. Here's what folks say, though, she whispered quickly,
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Speaker 1: if you got away over into Tennessee, the law wouldn't
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Speaker 1: follow you. The newspaper folks tell me that the sheriff
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Speaker 1: as good as told me. The governor wouldn't requisition you.
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Speaker 1: They say he wouldn't either, Tom, I know he wouldn't.
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Speaker 1: Then her eyes widen with horror. Oh, I wasn't going
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Speaker 1: to tell you that, She gasped, don't try to get away.
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Speaker 1: That man over yonder he'll kill you, Tom. Folks say
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Speaker 1: he would, said he had killed two. I know he will,
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Speaker 1: since I've seen him. He's awful, awful. She went on,
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Speaker 1: protesting in terror that he would try to do the
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Speaker 1: very thing she had suggested. She told him about the bloodhound.
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Speaker 1: The newspaper men said he never lost a trail, that
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Speaker 1: nobody who stayed on the ground had ever got away
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Speaker 1: from him. They know everything, these newspaper men. She went on.
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Speaker 1: They advised me right Tom, two years ain't long. He
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Speaker 1: waited longer than that to get married. Remember Tom, we
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Speaker 1: ain't old yet, poor Old Gal, said Tom. It was
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Speaker 1: the sight of a dilapidated and deserted blacksmith's shop near
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Speaker 1: the road they were widening, and of some rusted fragments
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Speaker 1: of tools scattered about here and there, which caused Old Tom,
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Speaker 1: as the road scraper passed and repassed the spot, to
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Speaker 1: look very closely down into the upturned dir And it
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Speaker 1: was the glimpse of something in that dirt that caused
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Speaker 1: him suddenly to rain up the four mules and glanced
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Speaker 1: quickly in the direction of the two guards. It was
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Speaker 1: an afternoon of terrific heat following a prolonged drought. In
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Speaker 1: the road ahead, the gang of Negro convicts told silently
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Speaker 1: sluggishly in the blinding glare. Simmons had driven off in
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Speaker 1: the direction of the city an hour before. The two
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Speaker 1: remaining guards, with shot guns under their arms, stood in
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Speaker 1: the scant shade of two dust covered trees. Jake, said
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Speaker 1: the old mountaineer calmly to the Negro on the machine
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Speaker 1: behind him. The Negro who handled the levers, Jake, there's
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Speaker 1: a bolt loose somewhere on this scrape reckon, I better
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Speaker 1: tend to it myself. Without any apparent hurry, he clambered
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Speaker 1: down from the seat quickly. Secretly he picked out of
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Speaker 1: the upturned earth an object, which he thrust into his
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Speaker 1: shirt deliberately, as if encountering obstacles which caused him trouble.
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Speaker 1: He hammered away at the supposed loose bolt. When at
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Speaker 1: last he clambered back into the iron seat, heated like
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Speaker 1: the top of a stove. There was a slight flush
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Speaker 1: on his lean cheeks and a brightness as of triumph
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Speaker 1: in his deep set eyes. On the way back to camp,
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Speaker 1: a country store stood beside the road. Here he asked
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Speaker 1: permission of one of the guards they were not all
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Speaker 1: like Simmons, to go in and buy himself some tobacco.
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Speaker 1: The guard who wung in with him saw nothing suspicious
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Speaker 1: in the fact that along with the tobacco, the old
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Speaker 1: man purchased also a package of chewing gum. That night,
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Speaker 1: he did not sleep. By raising up on his elbows
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Speaker 1: in his cot he could see, in a chair tilted
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Speaker 1: back against an oak tree, the night guard with a
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Speaker 1: gun across his knees, and farther on in front of
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Speaker 1: the guard tent, the outline of the bloodhound asleep. Once,
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Speaker 1: when he thought the guard nodded, he reached in his shirt.
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Speaker 1: He got out the objects he had picked up in
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Speaker 1: the road and rubbed it against his shackles. The rasp
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Speaker 1: of file on steel sounded loud in his tent, like
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Speaker 1: an alarm. He thought he saw the guard stir and
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Speaker 1: the bloodhound lift his head. He lay silently down. Later,
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Speaker 1: he punched a hole in the mattress and stuck a
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Speaker 1: file deep into the straw. Next day, he thought of
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Speaker 1: Molly and home as he sat on the road scraper.
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Speaker 1: The mountains, purple and lofty against the sky, seemed now
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Speaker 1: to be beckoning him. He was satisfied of that from
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Speaker 1: what Molly had told him. He bided his time until
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Speaker 1: one stormy night, when wind and rain drove the bloodhound
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Speaker 1: within the shelter of the guard tent and thrashing through
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Speaker 1: the branches of the oaks and flapping The canvas of
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Speaker 1: the big tent drowned out to all ears but his
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Speaker 1: own the rasp of a file on steel. Next day,
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Speaker 1: the continued rain made road work impossible, and as he
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Speaker 1: hobbled back and forth to feed the mules chewing gum
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Speaker 1: hid too triangular cuts in his shackles. Again that night,
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Speaker 1: storm and rain drowned out the sound that came from
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Speaker 1: the tent where he sat, hunched forward on his cot,
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Speaker 1: sawing patiently and methodically away. Hours before dawn, he slipped
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Speaker 1: out of the rear of his tent and walked quickly
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Speaker 1: toward the mule sheds, where he stood listening. Then hat
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Speaker 1: pulled down low, he hurried through the grove, across the field,
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Speaker 1: and made for the black rim of the surrounding forest.
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Speaker 1: He could not have picked a better night had choice
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Speaker 1: been given him. The rain, falling steadily, was washing his trail.
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Speaker 1: It was the season of full moon, and in spite
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Speaker 1: of storm clouds, the night was dimly luminous. He struck
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Speaker 1: straight for the bottoms and the creek, whose swollen turbulence
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Speaker 1: sounded above the rain. He plunged into the water, which
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Speaker 1: at the deepest places came no higher than his waist,
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Speaker 1: and partly by feeling, partly by sight now and then
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Speaker 1: stumbling over boulders now and then having to push aside
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Speaker 1: thick underbrush, he made his way for something like two
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Speaker 1: miles upstream. Carefully, he chose the spot where he left
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Speaker 1: the creek. His eyes, grown accustomed to the night, picked
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Speaker 1: out a tree that grew out of the ground at
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Speaker 1: a distance from the bank, then bent over it. He
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Speaker 1: caught hold of the branches, swung himself up, felt his
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Speaker 1: way like an opossum along the trunk, swung to another tree,
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Speaker 1: and did not touch ground until he was some hundred
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Speaker 1: feet from the shore. An indistinct, dripping dawn that showed
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Speaker 1: low driving clouds found him wet to the skin, like
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Speaker 1: an old fox who is run all night. Were confident,
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Speaker 1: like one who has covered up all trace of a trail.
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Speaker 1: Making his steady way with long mountaineers, strides across tangled bottoms,
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Speaker 1: into stretches of woodland, over hills that grew ever steeper
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Speaker 1: and higher, through undergrowth that grew ever denser. His face
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Speaker 1: was very serious, but not anxious. His nerve was too cool,
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Speaker 1: his courage too steady for him to feel any impulse
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Speaker 1: to run. His lifelong experience as a hunter who travels
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Speaker 1: far had taught him to save his energy. As the
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Speaker 1: light of the gray day grew stronger, he distinguished at
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Speaker 1: no great distance ahead, it seemed the outlines of misty mountains.
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Speaker 1: He recognized the gap where the highway crossed this first
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Speaker 1: ridge into the recesses of the big Smoky Mountains beyond
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Speaker 1: the Tennessee line. On the night after tomorrow, he calculated
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Speaker 1: he would tramp up on his porch and Molly would
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Speaker 1: open the door for him. Now and then, as twilight advanced,
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Speaker 1: he stopped and listened. One of the guards, more kindly
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Speaker 1: disposed than Simmons and the other guard, had, during the
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Speaker 1: hour of lunch one day, told him something about the bloodhound.
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Speaker 1: Sheri of the dog, he said, was not a full
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Speaker 1: bred bloodhound. His grandfather was a foxhound. Consequently, he ran
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Speaker 1: a man freely as a hound runs a fox barking
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Speaker 1: on the trail. He was hard to hold in. The
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Speaker 1: guard had gone on to say, so hard that Simmons
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Speaker 1: never tried to run him to the leege, but turned
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Speaker 1: him loose to find the track himself. Then Simmons followed
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Speaker 1: as fast as he could, no trouble to follow him.
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Speaker 1: You never heard such a voice as he's got in
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Speaker 1: your life, the guard had added, with a grin. He
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Speaker 1: usually puts a man up a tree inside two hours
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Speaker 1: and keeps him there till Simmons comes up. No danger
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Speaker 1: of the man coming down either not with that dog
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Speaker 1: at the bottom of the tree. And so, remembering these things,
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Speaker 1: Old Tom stopped now and then to listen. No sound
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Speaker 1: but the steady dripping of rain from trees, no sound
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Speaker 1: of pursuit. Miles lay between him and the camp, and
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Speaker 1: still the rain was washing his trail. It was on
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Speaker 1: top of a treeless hill that commanded the sights and
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Speaker 1: sounds of the country for miles about that. He stopped
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Speaker 1: once more to listen, and his white hair stirred on
18:52
Speaker 1: his head, just as the hair of the old fox
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Speaker 1: who has run all night might rise on his back
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Speaker 1: from far behind, through the enveloping mists and over intervening hills,
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Speaker 1: so far that at first he could not be sure
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Speaker 1: had come the bay of a solitary hound. Trailing he
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Speaker 1: stood transfixed, his patriarchal beard, dripping many a creature, fox
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Speaker 1: and wolf and man himself, as through the sentries trembled
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Speaker 1: at that sound. There was a silence during which he
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Speaker 1: collected his wits, momentarily upset. Then again, faint and far away,
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Speaker 1: like the ringing of a distant bell, came the sound
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Speaker 1: miles between where he sung himself out of the creek
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Speaker 1: and where he now stood the hound was coming on
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Speaker 1: his trail. Tom turned like a stag, rushed aside the bushes,
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Speaker 1: and began for the first time to run. At the
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Speaker 1: top of the next hill, not having heard it, while
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Speaker 1: he crashed through the undergrowth of the bottom, he stopped again, panting.
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Speaker 1: Though still far away and faint, it was unmistakable now,
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Speaker 1: and there was in the sound a note of melancholy
19:58
Speaker 1: triumph and joy. The shrewdness of all hunted animals took
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Speaker 1: hold now of the old man's nature. He ran half
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Speaker 1: a mile, then turned and doubled his track at a
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Speaker 1: stony spot where a trail does not remain long at best,
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Speaker 1: and stopped, swung his arms and jumped as far as
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Speaker 1: he could to the right. For a quarter of a mile.
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Speaker 1: He continued trotting at right angles to the original trail.
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Speaker 1: Then he turned once more toward the mountain. He could
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Speaker 1: hear it most of the time now, even when he ran.
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Speaker 1: Occasionally as the dog crossed the bottom, evidently it was
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Speaker 1: almost inaudible and seemed far away. Then, as he reached
20:37
Speaker 1: a high land, it became clearer and surer, more resonant
20:40
Speaker 1: and closer than ever. And now from back there, farther
20:44
Speaker 1: away than the dog, came a sound that, for a
20:46
Speaker 1: moment chilled his blood. The wild fate yell of a
20:49
Speaker 1: man urging the hound on unreasoning rage stirred within The
20:54
Speaker 1: old man flushed his face with hot blood, made his
20:57
Speaker 1: eyes blaze. Who was he to run away from any man?
21:00
Speaker 1: Then quickly rage cooled and calculation took its place. He
21:04
Speaker 1: must throw the hound off his trail. He back tracked
21:08
Speaker 1: once more, he turned at right angles to his original trail.
21:12
Speaker 1: He continued for an eighth of a mile, then turned
21:15
Speaker 1: back on his second track and crossed the original trail
21:18
Speaker 1: at the point where he had left it, and kept
21:20
Speaker 1: straight on, forming the letter T once more, on the
21:23
Speaker 1: short arm of the tea, he turned at right angles,
21:26
Speaker 1: this time toward the camp itself, and retracing his steps,
21:30
Speaker 1: formed another tee. Thus he made an intricate pattern of trails,
21:35
Speaker 1: comparable somewhat to the visible marks made by a fancy skater.
21:39
Speaker 1: The hound, finding tracks running apparently in every direction, would
21:43
Speaker 1: grow bewildered. He would circle, of course, but the circles
21:47
Speaker 1: themselves would lead him off on tracks that turned back
21:50
Speaker 1: on themselves. As an additional puzzle, wherever the old man doubled.
21:54
Speaker 1: He put his arms about a tree and remained his
21:57
Speaker 1: body pressed against the trunk a moment, as if he
22:00
Speaker 1: had climbed it. His whiskers will be whiter than they
22:03
Speaker 1: are now, he grinned. Before ever he works all that out.
22:07
Speaker 1: Two malls farther on, breathing hard, he sat down on
22:11
Speaker 1: a log, for he must have some rest, he knew.
22:14
Speaker 1: When the oncoming hound, who had worked out the first
22:17
Speaker 1: and simpler puzzle, struck the second and intricate one. First
22:21
Speaker 1: deathlike silence. The hound had come to the end of
22:24
Speaker 1: the trail. Probably he was whipping the trunks of the
22:27
Speaker 1: trees round about, looking up eagerly into them, as if
22:31
Speaker 1: he had been in one of those trees himself. Tom
22:33
Speaker 1: could see it all so well, did he know the
22:35
Speaker 1: way of a hound. Still silence. The dog would be
22:39
Speaker 1: circling now, following an eager bay as he struck one
22:43
Speaker 1: of the misleading trails he thought he was off. Then
22:46
Speaker 1: silence again, and after a moment, the long drawn howl
22:49
Speaker 1: of a hound frankly perplexed, and the fierce, angry yell
22:53
Speaker 1: of a man far behind, with fingers that trembled because
22:56
Speaker 1: of the chase he had run. Tom reached in his
22:59
Speaker 1: pocket and got out a cob pipe. This he filled
23:02
Speaker 1: with tobacco, and fumbling in an upper pocket of his shirt,
23:05
Speaker 1: found some matches. For ten minutes he sat on that
23:08
Speaker 1: fallen pine, smoking and listening to the unseen drama in
23:12
Speaker 1: the bottoms over there beyond the hill, his hopes of
23:15
Speaker 1: a rising, and with these hopes a gratifying sense of
23:18
Speaker 1: achievement and triumph. Once or twice the dog bade uncertainly.
23:22
Speaker 1: Once or twice the man yelled, it seemed to him
23:25
Speaker 1: with lessened confidence. Once it sounded as if the hound
23:28
Speaker 1: had sat down on his haunches, raised his muzzle on high,
23:32
Speaker 1: and poured out to heaven. His perplexity, Tom had seen
23:36
Speaker 1: them do that. Then another silence, as if the chase
23:39
Speaker 1: had died out. Still Tom sat, listening. In his exultation
23:44
Speaker 1: he had forgotten for the time home and Molly and
23:47
Speaker 1: the horrors he had left. Suddenly he rose, and his
23:51
Speaker 1: face was drawn and white. He turned and began to run,
23:54
Speaker 1: But even as he did so, he knew that it
23:56
Speaker 1: was all over between him and the farthest outscoe. Of
24:00
Speaker 1: the pattern he had worked out had come one long,
24:03
Speaker 1: drawn triumphant bay after another. The veteran, wiser by far
24:08
Speaker 1: than any dog Tom had ever known in all his
24:10
Speaker 1: knowledge of dogs, had worked the puzzle out, had run
24:13
Speaker 1: in ever greater circles, keeping his head, knowing that somewhere,
24:18
Speaker 1: cutting the circumference of a greater circle, he would find
24:21
Speaker 1: the true and straight trail. And he was coming, coming fast.
24:26
Speaker 1: He could not be more than a mile behind. He
24:29
Speaker 1: must be at the top of the hill where Tom
24:31
Speaker 1: had enjoyed his brief triumph. He must be smelling the
24:34
Speaker 1: very log on which Tom had sat. He had left
24:36
Speaker 1: the log. The sound burst on the old fugitive now
24:40
Speaker 1: almost like a chorus, menacing terrible, inexorable as fate. All
24:45
Speaker 1: the hills, all the valleys were echoing, as if a
24:48
Speaker 1: whole pack were running. How much worse than Feudal had
24:51
Speaker 1: been his tricks. It had only halted the great Bloodhound
24:55
Speaker 1: long enough for men and shotguns to come up. From
24:58
Speaker 1: now on he kept straight forward, sometimes walking, sometimes trotting,
25:03
Speaker 1: and sometimes breaking into a run. Now and then he
25:06
Speaker 1: stumbled with weariness. Once he fell face downward. Anybody but
25:11
Speaker 1: a fighter would have taken to a tree like an
25:13
Speaker 1: a possum. Run at last, to shelter. Out of breath,
25:18
Speaker 1: he came at length to the top of a ridge,
25:20
Speaker 1: and through an opening in the trees, looked across a
25:23
Speaker 1: wooded valley, beyond which rose the lofty undulations of the
25:27
Speaker 1: Tennessee Mountains. The clouds had been growing thin, and now
25:31
Speaker 1: the sun burst through and flooded those mountains with light.
25:36
Speaker 1: They ain't a goin to take me, said the old mountaineer,
25:39
Speaker 1: not alive, not even the fox waits for hounds to
25:44
Speaker 1: seize him. But his race over turns at bay and
25:47
Speaker 1: dies with his face to his enemies. And now in
25:51
Speaker 1: the woods of the extensive bottoms that lay between the
25:54
Speaker 1: ridge and the mountains. Old Tom Abercrombie, his race over,
25:58
Speaker 1: stopped and turned to face toward his pursuers. And as
26:02
Speaker 1: he did so, all fear left him. His mind became
26:06
Speaker 1: as clear as the sparkling sunlight about him. He was
26:09
Speaker 1: no longer a fleeing animal matching wits with a pursuing one.
26:13
Speaker 1: He was a man standing upright, looking on coming fate
26:16
Speaker 1: in the face. Old Tom did not think of it
26:20
Speaker 1: this way, And yet, perhaps because of some sense of
26:23
Speaker 1: the fitness of things, he took off his hat and
26:26
Speaker 1: dropped it beside him. Near at hand, a giant sycamore,
26:30
Speaker 1: dead and leafless, rose loftily above the smaller growth into
26:33
Speaker 1: the sky. Beside this tree he stood, his white hair
26:37
Speaker 1: and beard, disheveled and glistening in the sun, his eyes
26:40
Speaker 1: that had shone a momentary despair when he sprang up
26:43
Speaker 1: from the log, steady, fierce, undismayed. If the hound attacked him,
26:49
Speaker 1: he would fight, fight with his hands, for he had
26:52
Speaker 1: no other weapon. If the hound merely bade him, he
26:55
Speaker 1: would wait until the guards came up their commands. He
26:58
Speaker 1: would disregard. He would not even throw up his hands.
27:02
Speaker 1: He knew what the result would be. He had no
27:04
Speaker 1: illusions about that Simmons would kill him. He did think
27:08
Speaker 1: of Molly. He saw her all her life, tramping back
27:12
Speaker 1: and forth from the spring to the house, solitary and lonely.
27:16
Speaker 1: He saw the cornfield in the bottom where he had
27:19
Speaker 1: plowed so many things. He saw the faces of children
27:22
Speaker 1: and grandchildren. One by one. These things made him choke,
27:26
Speaker 1: but they had no effect upon his mind that was
27:29
Speaker 1: made up. Life is good, but it is not worth something.
27:33
Speaker 1: All these impressions ran through his mind swiftly, independent of
27:37
Speaker 1: the element of time, as a matter of fact, it
27:40
Speaker 1: was not sufficient interval for connected thought. Ahead of him
27:44
Speaker 1: was an open place in the woods, a place strewn
27:46
Speaker 1: with flinty stones and arrow heads, with now and then
27:50
Speaker 1: a black and rounded boulder rolled there by glaciers that
27:54
Speaker 1: had once moved over the face of the earth. This
27:57
Speaker 1: open spot, made barren by forces older than man himself,
28:01
Speaker 1: he had crossed in one last effort to make his
28:03
Speaker 1: trail difficult for the hound. His eyes were fastened on it. Now,
28:09
Speaker 1: the sun, hot and brilliant since the passing of the storm,
28:12
Speaker 1: blazed down upon it. On the other side, the forest
28:16
Speaker 1: grew dense and high, like a wall of green. And
28:19
Speaker 1: now out of this forest, into the ancient opening, came
28:23
Speaker 1: the hound. Tom had never felt any grudge against the dog.
28:27
Speaker 1: He was only obeying a law of his nature, only
28:30
Speaker 1: running a trail. Fascinated, he watched the animal, oblivious for
28:35
Speaker 1: the moment of the significance of his presence. He had
28:38
Speaker 1: been running fast in the forest, and now on this
28:41
Speaker 1: flinty and difficult ground, he slackened his pace and came
28:45
Speaker 1: on slowly, like a patient, methodical fellow who makes sure
28:49
Speaker 1: he's right as he goes along. His nose almost touching
28:52
Speaker 1: the ground, never left the trail. In crossing the opening,
28:57
Speaker 1: the old man's foot had turned on a stone, staggered,
29:00
Speaker 1: and placed his hand against one of the black boulders
29:03
Speaker 1: for support. And now when the hound came to this
29:06
Speaker 1: spot he stopped. He lifted his head and whiffed the
29:09
Speaker 1: rock the man had touched with his hand. Next he
29:13
Speaker 1: reached up on the boulder and looked at its top.
29:16
Speaker 1: Then he came on nose low once more angeleoss ears
29:20
Speaker 1: actually dragging on the ground, tail erect and now and
29:23
Speaker 1: then wagging stiffly as with joy. While Tom still watched him,
29:28
Speaker 1: he raised his muzzle, and there came from his throat
29:31
Speaker 1: a deep, musical, fell like challenge that echoed loudly in
29:35
Speaker 1: the opening itself, and more airily and sweet between the
29:39
Speaker 1: ridge and the mountains beyond. In answer, from a mile behind,
29:44
Speaker 1: so Tom calculated, came a far more terrible sound, the wild,
29:48
Speaker 1: savage yells of two men, one wilder and more savage
29:51
Speaker 1: than the other. The old man took a deep breath,
29:55
Speaker 1: and his beard was thrust suddenly forward before the dog.
29:59
Speaker 1: Those men would be helpless, but for the dog. He
30:02
Speaker 1: could turn now, and the woods would swallow him up
30:06
Speaker 1: in a flash, an inspiration was borne, a conquering purpose,
30:10
Speaker 1: such as must have entered the mind of prehistoric man.
30:13
Speaker 1: He waited his eyes on the hound. A dog is
30:17
Speaker 1: near sighted at best, and Sheriff was old. When he
30:20
Speaker 1: was a short two hundred feet from the tree, there
30:22
Speaker 1: came to his nose the smell, not of a trail itself,
30:25
Speaker 1: but of the man who made the trail. He stopped
30:29
Speaker 1: and lifted his head. A moment he stared. Then he
30:32
Speaker 1: raised his grizzled muzzle to the sky and poured out
30:35
Speaker 1: to the high heaven the announcement that here in the woods,
30:38
Speaker 1: at the end of the trail, standing beside a tree,
30:41
Speaker 1: was a man. Then he started back, amazed, for this man,
30:45
Speaker 1: instead of climbing the tree as all men did when
30:48
Speaker 1: he bade them, was coming straight toward him. His hand
30:51
Speaker 1: was outstretched, his eyes were blazing, and there was a
30:54
Speaker 1: smile on his face. Old whiskers. He was saying, hush, now, hush, hush.
31:00
Speaker 1: The man had stooped down, his hands still extended, Come here,
31:03
Speaker 1: he commanded. The greyhound began to tremble. Those terrible eyes
31:08
Speaker 1: were looking deep into his They were commanding him. They
31:11
Speaker 1: were pleading too. He had seen them before, back there
31:15
Speaker 1: in the camp, and he had not forgotten. He heard
31:18
Speaker 1: behind him another yell. He tried to look back, but
31:21
Speaker 1: the eyes held him. No, the man cried sternly. Then
31:25
Speaker 1: old boy, old whiskers. He began to pant. The baar
31:29
Speaker 1: he would have uttered died in his throat. Another yell
31:31
Speaker 1: and another. Still he did not reply. His tail was tucked.
31:35
Speaker 1: Now he was looking at the man, wonderingly, beseechingly. His
31:39
Speaker 1: universe was changing, or centering in that man before him,
31:43
Speaker 1: that man who understood again the yells, and now beyond
31:47
Speaker 1: the opening, behind the faint crash of running footsteps, His
31:51
Speaker 1: hair rose on his back with rage. His world had
31:54
Speaker 1: turned about. Those were his enemies coming. All the loyalty
31:58
Speaker 1: of his dog's soul had gone out to this man
32:00
Speaker 1: who understood, all his hatred to those who never had.
32:04
Speaker 1: He started to turn about. He would meet them in
32:06
Speaker 1: the opening. He would rush at them. No, cried the
32:09
Speaker 1: man who understood. When he looked at Tom once more,
32:12
Speaker 1: the miracle of ages past had been repeated. The man
32:16
Speaker 1: saw in the eyes of the dog trust, humility, undying devotion.
32:21
Speaker 1: His voice trembled for the first time, Old whiskers, he
32:25
Speaker 1: said gently, Old gray whiskers. Quick now. The pursuing guards
32:30
Speaker 1: never knew why the woods ahead of them suddenly grew silent,
32:34
Speaker 1: while the tree bay of the bloodhound, that had sounded
32:36
Speaker 1: once clear and unmistakable, sounded no more. Though as they
32:40
Speaker 1: ran they filled the morning with their yells. They did
32:43
Speaker 1: not see the great hound go trembling to the man.
32:46
Speaker 1: They did not see the old man for just a
32:48
Speaker 1: second catched the massive head between his hands. They did
32:52
Speaker 1: not see the two turn and disappear swiftly, silently into
32:56
Speaker 1: the undergrowth that grew densely behind the open space and
32:59
Speaker 1: the giant sycamore tree. When all out of breath, they
33:04
Speaker 1: reached the spot from whence had preceded the solitary tree bay,
33:08
Speaker 1: they looked about at vacant woods. Frantically, they searched the undergrowth,
33:12
Speaker 1: shotguns ready, calling to each other in their excitement. Man
33:16
Speaker 1: and dog had vanished, as if they had never been.
33:19
Speaker 1: The Simmons did not believe in miracles. The old devil
33:22
Speaker 1: killed the dog, he cried, he had a knife about him.
33:25
Speaker 1: But where's the blood and where's the body? They hurried
33:28
Speaker 1: here and there as they glimpsed red spots, only to
33:31
Speaker 1: find a leaf killed by the sun and fallen before season,
33:35
Speaker 1: for a bush reddened by berries. We miscalculated the spots
33:39
Speaker 1: or simmons. It wasn't here, it happened, and he sat down,
33:43
Speaker 1: out of breath, and leaned his burly back against the
33:46
Speaker 1: trunk of a giant sycamore tree. The sun was dropping
33:50
Speaker 1: over the mountains when the two guards, empty handed, got
33:54
Speaker 1: back to camp. The valleys lay in shadow, but far
33:57
Speaker 1: up in the enormous folds of the Tennessee Mountains. Its
34:01
Speaker 1: last crimson rays shone on a bearded old man trudging
34:04
Speaker 1: along a narrow road toward the west. He looked weary
34:09
Speaker 1: and footsore, and his clothes were torn by briars, but
34:12
Speaker 1: his face was alight, as if with anticipation of tomorrow now.
34:16
Speaker 1: And then he spoke, and behind him, a great, strange looking,
34:20
Speaker 1: long eared hound lifted his head as if drinking in
34:24
Speaker 1: the sound of his voice. End of Section eight.