"In de 'oods, en Mahta want to git dey too."
He had sent the two boys after the young cattle instead of tying Martha to a tree and going too. I said nothing, but rode out into the woods, and after some little trouble brought them back into the road, where by great vigilance and activity we managed to keep them.
As they were unaccustomed to travel they went very slowly and we had often to stop in shady places and let them rest. When they came to a stream of water crossing the road they would lie down, and there was nothing but wait.
However, all the irritation of giving up my plans at home passed from me and I soon was thoroughly enjoying God's beautiful world—the fresh air, the lovely wild flowers, the birds and bees, all rejoicing in the return of spring with its promise of fruition—it was all a joy.
At last we got the party safely through the gate at Casa Bianca, and when they came to the turn where the avenue runs along the river they felt rewarded for all their trials, such thick, rich grass under their feet, cool shade above them, and that great stream of water beside them.
I had not brought the house key, to my sorrow, for there I keep a demijohn of artesian water and a box of crackers—the well is so little used that I do not like to drink the water. I turned my face homeward very hungry and very thirsty. As I rode down the avenue I saw a great mulberry tree loaded with ripe fruit. With delight I rode under the branches and satisfied both hunger and thirst and went on my way refreshed.
It had taken so long to get the cattle down there, what with the various stoppages, that it was 5 o'clock when I got home. Found D. had been very anxious about me and was much surprised to see me so little exhausted by the day. Chloe gave us a delicious dinner and I was not too tired to walk over the fields with Bonaparte and give him directions for his guidance during my approaching absence.
Everything is now about ready and D. V. we leave here next Wednesday. I never can keep up my diary while away and will not attempt it.
I have taken a little boy of 8, Elihu's son, to take the place which Rab and Dab have successively occupied for years about the yard. I cannot afford to keep a man-servant at the pineland. This little boy's name is Green, but he is so strong and capable that I call him Goliah. He did not like it at first, not until I told him Goliah was a giant. I asked him if he had no nickname, as I never could remember to call him Green. He answered gravely that he had a nickname, and when I asked what it was he said "Isaiah." A most unusual nickname, but it seemed to open the way for me, so I said:—
"My nickname for you will be Goliah, because you are so strong."