Allegories; Christian fiction; Clergy -- Fiction; Ozark Mountains -- Fiction
The big man, looking on, cursed again beneath his breath. “It’s from
Ollie,” he whispered to his companions. “She stopped at the house. He
says his uncle will give me a job in the shops, and that it’ll be fine
for me, ’cause Ollie will be my boss himself. He my boss! Why, dad burn
his sneakin’ little soul, I could crunch him with one hand. I’d see him
in hell before I’d take orders from him. I told her so, too,” he
finished savagely.
“And what did she say?” asked the shepherd quietly, his eyes on the
girl below.
“Just said, kind o’ short like, that she reckoned I could. Then I come
away.”
The girl finished her letter, and, after another long call for Dad,
moved on over the shoulder of the mountain. Pete, who had withdrawn a
little way from his companions, was busily talking in his strange
manner to his unseen friends.
Then Young Matt opened his heart to the shepherd and told him all. It
was the old, old story; and, as Mr. Howitt listened, dreams that he had
thought dead with the death of his only son, stirred again in his
heart, and his deep voice was vibrant with emotion as he sought to
comfort the lad who had come to him.
While they talked, the sun dropped until its lower edge touched the top
of the tallest pine on Wolf Ridge, and the long shadows lay over the
valley below. “I’m mighty sorry I let go and cuss, Dad,” finished, the
boy. “But I keep a holdin’ in, and a holdin’ in, ’til I’m plumb wild;
then something happens like that letter, and I go out on the range and
bust. I’ve often wished you knowed. Seems like your just knowin’ about
it will help me to hold on. I get scared at myself sometimes, Dad, I
do, honest.”
“I’m glad, too, that you have told me, Grant. It means more to me than
you can guess. I—I had a boy once, you know. He was like you. He would
have come to me this way, if he had lived.”
The sheep had begun working toward the lower ground. The shepherd rose
to his feet. “Take them home, Brave. Come on, boys, you must eat with
me at the ranch, to-night.” Then the three friends, the giant
mountaineer, the strangely afflicted youth, and the old scholar went
down the mountain side together.
As they disappeared in the timber on the lower level, the bushes, near
which they had been sitting, parted silently, and a man’s head and
shoulders appeared from behind a big rock. The man watched the strange
companions out of sight. Then the bushes swayed together, and the
mountain seemed to have swallowed him up.
The three friends had just finished their supper when Pete saw Sammy
entering the ranch clearing. Young Matt caught up his hat. At the rear
door he paused. “I’ve got to go now, Dad,” he said awkwardly. “I can’t
see her any more to-day. But if you’ll let me, I’ll come again when
things get too hot.”
The shepherd held out his hand, “I understand. Come always, my boy.”
The big fellow, with Pete, skipped away into the timber at the rear of
the cabin, a moment before Sammy appeared at the open door in front.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account