“Atter while dey come runnin’ back. ‘Mammy! oh, mammy! yon’s a dog! Mus’ we-all run?’
“‘Yes, yes! Run, chillun, run!’
“Dat de way wid me,” said Mink. “Ef I wuz ter hear some un cornin’ I wouldn’t know whedder ter set still an’ nod, or whedder ter break an’ run.”
“That hain’t much of a tale,” remarked Mr. Pruitt, “but ther’s a mighty heap er sense in it, shore.”
“Shoo!” exclaimed Mink, “dat ain’t no tale. You oughter hear dish yer Injun Bill tell um. He kin set up an’ spit um out all night long.—Bill,” said he, turning to his companion, “tell um dat un ’bout how de mountains come ’bout.”
“Oh, I can’t tell de tale,” said Injun Bill, marking nervously in the floor with a splinter. “Ef I could tell dem like my daddy, den dat ’ud sorter be like sumpin’. Me an’ my mammy come from Norf Ca’liny. My daddy wuz Injun, Ef you could hear him tell dem tales, he’d make you open yo’ eyes.”
“How wuz de mountains made, Bill?” asked Mink, after a pause.
“I wish I could tell it like my daddy,” said Bill. “He wuz Cher’kee Injun, an’ he know all ’bout it, kaze he say de Injuns wuz here long time fo’ de white folks wuz, let ’lone de niggers.
“Well, one time dey wuz a great big flood. Hit rain so hard an’ it rain so long dat it fair kivver de face er de yeth. Dey wuz lots mo’ water dan what dey is in our kind er freshets, an’ it got so atter while dat de folks had ter find some place whar dey kin stay, kaze ef dey don’t dey all be drownded, dem an’ de cree-turs, too.
“Well, one day de big Injun man call dem all up, an’ say dey got ter move. So dey tuck der cloze an’ der pots an’ der pans an’ foller ’long atter de big Injun, an’ de creeters dey come ’long, too. Dey march an’ dey march, an’ bimeby dey come whar dey wuz a big hole in de groun’. Dey march in an’ de big Injun he stay behine fer stop up de hole so de water can’t leak in. ’Twant long ’fo’ dey know dey wuz in de middle er de worl’, deep down under de groun’, an’ dey had plenty room. Dey built der fires an’ cook der vittles des same ez ef dey’d a been on top er de groun’.