“Wal, you air a long piece from the city, but we uns kin help ye git to the railroad and that’ll take ye to the city.”
Several heads of varying sizes were sticking out of the wagon by this time, and when Steve had been helped in among the occupants he found it was a family moving from one little hamlet to another. The husband and father had recently died and they were going back to their mother’s home to live among her “kin.”
The kindly mother at once bound up Steve’s injured foot with white of egg and salt, which she said would “fetch it round all right,” and hearing the empty rumbles of his poor little stomach she said she didn’t believe “thar was a thing inside of it,” and proceeded to give him a good square meal.
Was there ever anything happier than to be driving along the road with a comfortable foot, a full stomach and in the midst of friends! Steve had never known greater joy than that moment held. They were a “happy-go-lucky” family he had fallen in with,––and for the first time in his life he was in 41 the midst of the merry banter of children. The mountain folk of remote regions lack a sense of humour, and Steve had grown up entirely alone, the cabins of Hollow Hut being scattered, so he sat through the afternoon in a maze of delight. There were snickers and giggles, punching in the ribs and tickling of toes from these children who lived on the border of civilization, for Steve had really gone blindly towards his goal.
As they drove gaily along Steve heard a sudden rumbling which suggested thunder, the children cried, “The train, the train,” and stopping the mules quickly the big brother who was driving jumped down, while three of the children sprang out with a bound and all grasped the bridles at their heads. It was done so quickly there wasn’t time to ask a question and then a monster came tearing, puffing, hissing past them. Steve’s eyes almost started from their sockets and when it was past he sank back limp and quivering.
“Why, chile, didn’t ye nuver see no railroad trains afore?” said the good mother.
Steve managed to say, “No,” and then the children told him all the astonishing things about railroads. To his mingled joy and terror another came along from the opposite direction when they had driven on about a mile further, and this 42 time it came more slowly, making a full stop near them.
“Whut air they a-doin’ that for?” asked Steve, and when it was explained that they had stopped for fuel or water, there being no station near, a quivering light broke over his face, and remembering his watch as his mind tried to grasp new sources of motion, he said:
“They’re jes’ a-stoppin’ to wind hit up, then.”
Very soon after this they came to a cabin by the roadside and all the family within poured out to see the strangers.