How air ye? " she said, with ready hospitality. " Come in an' hev a cheer." "No, thank you," he answered, a little embarrassed by Easter's odd behavior. " May I get some water? "Sartinly," said the old woman, looking him over curiously. " Easter, go git some fresh." The girl started to rise, but Clayton, picking up the bucket, said, quickly: "Oh no; I won't trouble you. I see the spring," he added, noticing a tiny stream that trickled from a fissure at the base of the cliff. Who air that feller, Easter? " the mother asked, in a low voice, when Clayton was out of hearing. "One o' them furriners who hev come into Injun Creek," was the indifferent reply. That's splendid water," said Clayton, returning. "May I give you some?" The old woman shook her head. Easter's eyes were still on the mountains, and apparently she had not heard him. "Hit air good water," said the mother. "That spring never does go dry. You better come in and rest a spell. I suppose ye air from the mines?" she added, as she turned to resume spinning. Yes," answered Clayton. "There is good hunting around here, isn't there? " he went on, feeling that some explanation was due for his sudden arrival away up in that lone spot. There was no answer. Easter did not look toward him, and the spinning stopped. "Whut d'you say?" asked the old woman. Clayton repeated his question. "Thar used to be prime huntin' in these parts when my dad cleared off this spot more'n fifty year ago, but the varmints hev mostly been killed out. But Easter kin tell you better'n I kin, for she does all our huntin', 'n' she kin outshoot 'mos' any man in the mountains." Yes; I saw her shoot at the match the other day down at the mines." Did ye? "-a smile of pleasure broke over the old woman's face-" whar she beat Sherd Raines? Sherd wanted to mortify her, but she mortified him, I reckon." The girl did not join in her mother's laugh, though the corners of her mouth twitched faintly. I like shooting, myself," said Clayton. "I would go into a match, but I'm afraid I wouldn't have much chance." "I reckon not, with that short thing? " said the old woman, pointing at his repeating-rifle. "Would ye shoot with that?" Oh, yes," answered Clayton, smiling; "it shoots very well." "How fer?" "Oh, a long way." A huge shadow swept over the house, thrown by a buzzard sailing with magnificent ease high above them. Thinking that he might disturb its flight, Clayton rose and cocked his rifle. "Ye're not going to shoot at that?" said the old woman, grinning. The girl had looked toward him at last, with a smile of faint dension. Clayton took aim quickly and fired. The huge bird sank as though hit, curved downward, and with one flap of his great wings sailed on. "Well, ef I didn't think ye had hit him!"said the old woman, in amazement. "You kin shoot, fer a fac'."