Novel 1968 - Down The Long Hills (v5.0) Read Free Page B

chips between the notches until the log was shaped into a square beam. Hardy liked gathering them, and they made a grand fire.
    He had always gone to the woods with his father when he went to search for herbs and nuts, or to select the logs for the cutting. He could even help with hoisting the beams into place when they were ready to build the house. Using oxen, ropes, and a greased log over which the ropes could slide, the huge logs could be lifted into place.
    At night they would sit by the fire making nails, heating the long nail-rod, sharpening it to a point with hammer blows, then indenting it at the proper length and breaking off the nail.
    When not making nails, they wove baskets from reed fibers to make containers for grain and vegetables. Pa was so good at this that he often traded his baskets for food or other things he wanted to have.
    When they were sitting together of an evening, pa would tell Hardy stories of his own boyhood in his native Ireland, and how he had been apprenticed to a millwright when he was ten years old. At fifteen he had been tall and strong enough to be swept up by a press gang and taken off to sea, but after a year of that he left his ship in New Orleans and went up the Mississippi and the Ohio, and then over the mountains to New York. From there he had gone to sea again, this time as a ship’s carpenter, and after the voyage he worked around New York, and had gone to New Hampshire, where he met ma.
    After ma died they had gone west, as far as Wisconsin, but even there pa was still restless. He wanted a larger place, in more open country where he could raise horses. At his home in Ireland there had been fine saddle stock all around, and it was such horses he intended to raise.
    Once when pa went off to market he left Hardy alone for two whole days and nights. Somebody had to stay and care for the stock, and keep the crows out of the corn. When pa returned Mr. Andy was with him, and he took up land close by.
    Pa had been listening to stories about California; but it had not been the gold that took him off across the plains, but the attraction of a good climate and a place to ranch horses. He had been gone for a year when he sent for Mr. Andy to come west and bring Hardy.

    S UDDENLY HARDY FOUND himself awake, scarcely aware he had slept. The sky was faintly gray. Easing away from Betty Sue’s side, he got Big Red and and led him to water, then went back to camp and picketed the big horse again.
    Among the trees and brush he found some straight shafts for arrows, and a good piece for the bow. His father had taught him how the Indians made their bows and arrows, and he had often hunted rabbits and squirrels with them. Working kept him from thinking now how hungry he was, and how hungry Betty Sue must be. He ate another of the pawpaws as he worked.
    He was just finishing the bow when he heard the horses coming. Big Red heard them first and his ears went up and his nostrils fluttered as if he was going to whinny. Hardy caught the lead rope and whispered, “No! No!” Big Red was silent, but he was very curious.
    Watching under the willows, Hardy saw three Indians with feathers in their hair. All were naked to the waist, and one had a quarter of an antelope on his saddle. They drew up about thirty yards downstream, and Hardy could hear the low murmur of their voices. He noticed that they were not painted, and they carried no scalps.
    One of the Indians dropped from his pony and lay down to drink. As he started to rise he hesitated, then stood up. When he came to his full height he looked upstream, and for a long moment seemed to be looking right into Hardy’s eyes. The boy knew he could not be seen, but he held very still and prayed that neither Betty Sue nor Big Red would make a sound. After a long, long minute, the Indian looked away.
    Soon all three rode off together, with the others, but even as they left, the one Indian turned and looked back. Hardy held very still until they had gone, and