Old Tomah, her one and only friend for many years, was here. A something Ray had whispered the night before, now returned like a sweet note of music vibrating in her heart, and as if to add their cheer, the birds were piping all about.
For weeks the cheerful words of one of Ray’s songs had haunted her with its catchy rhythm:–
“Dar was an old nigger and his name was Uncle Ned,
He died long ’go, long ’go.”
They now rose to her lips, as she neared the lake. Here she halted, filled a pail, and set it on the log landing.
Nearer and nearer that unconscious girl it crept!
From behind a low spruce one evil, sinister eye watched her.
And now Chip, still humming this ditty, glanced up at the rising sun and out over the lake.