"I'll see his bones burn—he cyan't cum back ef I burn his bones all up—th' ol' Scratch'll have t' keep em, ef I burn his bones up—he'll have t' keep em." The jungled hills, a-hush, were ominously empty of night voices.
And all the soft-footed creatures of the wild crouched fear-crazed in their lairs, and peered tremblingly out at this fire-swept, fearful night. A furtive, fleeing wind, ocean-bound, whipped the slatternly dawn clouds away from the wan face of a vigilant moon. Its haggard visage looked pityingly down upon a boy-heart clasping a rifle to his breast like a brother, his dream-dizzied head, pillowed upon the soughing bosom of a wilderness world—fast asleep.
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
GOLIATH'S BRIDE
THE APOSTLE ON HELLSFORK
A GHOST'S VENGEANCE
THE REDEMPTION OF ZACK McCOY
MR. HARTEM'S SPECULATION