what Regal had said: 'There's times when a body must defend himself, Echo, an' when that time comes, you'd better win.'
There was a fire going on the hearth, and the table had been spread with a cloth, honorin' the company. 'Ain't often we get folks from the river,' the woman said. 'They don't travel the waters the way they did when I was a girl.'
'They're beginning to cut timber up yonder. Logs will be floated down to the Ohio soon.'
'It's cash money,' I said, 'but I hate to see the trees go down.'
'We need the money,' the woman agreed. 'Jacob may take to cuttin' an' fallin' hisself. Not many cash crops in this here country lest a man goes to moonshinin', an' we don't hold with that. Not that we're teetotalers. Jacob likes his nip, time to time.'
When we'd eaten, we got up and Archie wiped his hands on his pants. 'Thank you, ma'am. I am obliged.'
'Don't forget the bait I put up for you. Take it along in case of need.'
'We will need it,' I said, 'but take our warning. Those behind us ride with the devil. They are not kindly folk.'
'We never turned anybody away,' Jacob repeated.
'Don't turn 'em away, but keep a gun handy.'
We went back to the canoe, hesitated, then got in and shoved off upon the dark, dark water. All of us ached with weariness.
'Up ahead,' I said, 'we'll find a place. We've got to sleep.'
Maybe it was because we were tired. Maybe it was the idea that men followed us to steal what we had, but I had a sense of foreboding, a sense of evil.
Where was Felix Horst? It wasn't like him to disappear and leave the stealing to such as Timothy Oats and Elmer. That man worried me.
'Don't worry about him,' Dorian said. 'He's away behind us, probably in Cincinnati or some such place.'
We paddled more slowly now, moving carefully on the dark water because there were occasional floating logs and sometimes masses of debris and drift stuff all rafted together. By day a body could see them easy enough; by night it was another thing. Even a projecting root or branch could rip the bottom out of a canoe like ours.
'Hey!' Archie was peering into the night. 'There's a landing of some sort.'
'Let's see what's there,' I said.
Archie guided the canoe in alongside the dock, and as we steadied the boat, he climbed out.
'Cabin up yonder,' he said, 'all quiet. I think it's deserted.'
We tied the canoe and climbed out, bringing our gear. Somewhere back in the darkness an owl hooted a question to the night.
'Pull the canoe under the landing,' I suggested. 'If somebody comes along, they aren't apt to see it.'
There were big trees here, tulip, sycamore, oak, and suchlike. There was a smell of decay and a sense of emptiness about the place. There were no cows in the lot, no smell of hogs or horses.
'Deserted,' Dorian said. 'I wonder why.'
'They couldn't cut the mustard,' I said. 'Many try, only a few make it. Some find the work too hard, some can't stand the loneliness.'
'Let's see what's in the house,' Dorian suggested.
'Leave it be,' I said. 'If anybody comes a-lookin', that's where they'll go. We can sleep under the trees yonder, and if anybody comes, we'll hear them.'
Archie had taken a stick he found leaning against a tree and was brushing around. 'Snakes,' he explained.
When we sat down and listened, here and there things rustled in the far-off leaves, branches rubbed one against the other, and now that we were quiet, the frogs started to talk it up again. Occasionally we saw a bat dip and swoop, chasing bugs.
Stretching out on the ground with my arm for a pillow, I stared into the night, wondering where Regal was and if the family worried about me.
It was very dark but our eyes became accustomed to it and we could make out the dim outlines of the cabin, a shed, and a corral. Somewhere we could hear water running, from a spring or a branch, no doubt.
My eyes opened suddenly. I had slept, I do not know for how long. I could hear the breathing of Dorian Chantry, and somewhat father away, that of Archie. The night was still. Yet, what had awakened me?
Something, some sound, some ...
I listened, and seemed to hear something moving near me; there was a faint smell. Then the movement sound ceased, but the smell remained.
What was it? It smelled, faintly, like something wet and slimy. A crocodile? Or alligator? I doubted if there would be one this far north, but a body never knew, and they had been found in swamps and bayous off the Mississippi, but the smell was unlike what I would expect from them.
A wet smell, like a wet dog.
That was it! It was the smell of a wet dog, yet what would a dog be doing here, alone? Or was it alone? A dog was rarely a soliatry creature; dogs liked people, were happiest when with people.
My new rifle-gun lay beside me, my pistol was close to hand, the other Doune pistol was still in the carpetbag, also close by.
Something stirred among the leaves and I drew my pistol. I did not want to shoot, for a shot in the night can be heard a far piece, yet ...
A few stars were out. I could make out the shadows of things, and through the leaves I could see the silver gleam of the river. I listened, straining my ears. All was quiet.
I wanted to be at home. I wanted to be in my own bed, getting up in the morning to familiar chores. I wanted to sit and talk with ma, I wanted to sew, to darn socks, I wanted to behome!
I was tired of running, tired of being hunted, tired of being forever watchful. I wanted to sit with a cup of coffee beside me and watch the shadows lift from the hills of home.
Regal seemed far away now, and Finian Chantry was in another world. I wanted to be home, among decent folks, I wanted to stand beside Ma in church of a Sunday and sing one of the old hymns or maybe set by the fireside of a night and sing 'Greensleeves,' 'Lord Lovell,' 'Black Jack Davy,' or 'Rickett's Hornpipe.'
Something moved again, and I could just make him out. It was a dog, and he was lying near us, seeming to want company.
'It's all right, boy,' I whispered. 'Go to sleep now.'
And I did.
Chapter 17
He was a shepherd dog, mostly black and brown but with some white on his chest and legs, and he looked like he'd been seeing hard times.
'Where'd he come from?' Dorian wanted to know.
'Joined us in the night. Looks like he's been missing some meals.'
Archie was putting together a fire. 'Coffee in a bit,' he said, 'and we can broil some meat.'
The landing where we'd left the canoe was made of home-cut planks and was old, all gray and silvery and no place for a body to walk with bare feet. There was moss growing on the pilings and every sign it had been there for a long time.
What happened here? I wondered. It was a good place to live, with water and fine timber. Some fields had been cleared but lying unused for a long time now.
We fed the dog some scraps and when we climbed into the canoe he whined, wanting to come. Dorian looked over at me. 'What do you think?'
'Why not?' I said, and Archie spoke to the dog and he hopped into the canoe like he'd ridden in one all his life.
'We may be stealing somebody's dog,' Dorian said.
'He's homeless,' Archie replied. 'I can see it in him. Whoever his folks were, they're gone.'
Dorian and Archie did most of the paddling but I'd spell first one, then t'other from time to time, giving them
