removed them. The instrument rested on heavy pads in the bottom of the
box, so that we had no trouble in pulling out the ropes. Covering the
piano with the oil-cloth, we screwed on the lid of the case. By this
time it was dark, though we had begun early in the morning.

The next day we made an inclined plane of cotton-wood sticks, upon
which to run the wagon down upon level ground. This we did by hand, and
then we were ready to hitch on the horses. We did not intend to haul it
down to the landing till we heard the whistle of the steamer, for the
boat would wait a whole day for half a ton of freight on her down trip.
But it was three days more before we heard any whistle.

After we had restored the house to its former condition, Ella and I
wandered in the woods and along the banks of the river, waiting
impatiently for the expected signal. I had dressed myself in my best
clothes, discarding forever my hunting-frock and skin cap. I thought I
was a pretty good-looking fellow, and Ella said as much as this to me.

At last we heard the whistle, and Kit and I hastened to hitch on the
horses. We placed all the baggage on the wagon with the piano-case, and
for the last time I drove old Firefly and Cracker down to the landing.
A dozen men lifted the piano from the wagon, and placed it on the deck
of the steamer. The trunks and other baggage were carried on board;
and, after the deck hands had taken in twenty cords of wood, the
whistle sounded again.

"Good by, Kit," said I, as I grasped his rough hand. "May God bless and
keep you. I hope I shall see you again."

"It mought be, and it mought not; leastwise I don't reckon you will, if
you don't come here. But good by, boy. I hope everything will allus go
well with you; and if you kin, just kim up here and see me. Good by,
boy."

Kit displayed more emotion than I had ever seen him exhibit before, and
I found it difficult to suppress a rising tear. Mr. Gracewood and his
family shook hands with him, and left their best wishes for his future
prosperity and happiness.

"Good by, Mr. Greasewood. You are a good man, and you will allus be
happy. Don't forget old Kit."

"I never shall," protested Mr. Gracewood, as the old hunter stepped on
shore; and that was the sentiment in all our hearts.

The bell rang, the boat started, and we waved our adieus to the old man
on shore, who stood gazing solemnly and sadly at us. The wheels of the
steamer were turning, and as I gazed upon th