Upon the heap, dressed in the picturesque utility garb of buckskin, homespun, and “hickory” which stamped the pioneer of his day, a big man lay at full length: a large man even here, where the law of the fittest reigned supreme. A stubbly growth of beard covered his face, giving it the heavy expression common to those accustomed to silent places, and dim forest trails.
Aside from his size, there was nothing striking or handsome about this backwoods giant, neither of face nor of form; yet, sleeping or waking, working or at leisure, he would be noticed––and remembered. In his every feature, every action, was the absolute unconsciousness of self, which cannot be mistaken; whether active or passive, there was about him 312 an insinuation of reserve force, subtly felt, of a strong, determined character, impossible to sway or bend. He lay, now, motionless, staring with wide-open eyes into the fire and breathing slowly, deeply, like one in sleep.
There was a hammering upon the door; another, louder; then a rattling that made the walls vibrate.
“Come!” called the man, rousing and rolling away from the fire.
A heavy shoulder struck the door hard, and the screaming wooden hinges covered the sound of the entering footfall.
He who came was also of the type: homespun and buckskin, hair long and face unshaven. He straightened from a passage which was not low, then turning pushed the unwieldy door shut. It closed reluctantly, with a loud shrilling of its frost-bound hinges and frame. In a moment he dropped his hands and impatiently kicked the stubborn offender home, the suction drawing a puff of smoke from the fireplace into the room, and sending the ashes spinning in miniature whirlwinds upon the hearth.
The man on the floor contemplated the entry 313 with indifference; but a new light entered his eyes as he recognized his visitor, though his face held like wood.
“Evenin’, Clayton,” he greeted, nodding toward a stool by the hearth. “Come over ’n sit down to the entertainment.” A whimsical smile struggled through the heavy whiskers. “I’ve been seeing all sorts of things in there”––a thoughtful nod toward the fire. “Guess, though, a fellow generally does see what he’s looking for in this world.”
“See here, Bud,” the visitor bluntly broke in, coming into the light and slurring a dialect of no nationality pure, “y’ can’t stop me thataway. There ain’t no use talkin’ about the weather, neither.” A motion of impatience; then swifter, with a shade of menace:
“You know what I came over fer. It’s actin’ the fool, I know, we few families out here weeks away from ev’rybody, but this clearin’ can’t hold us both.”