d bull-dogs stopped
likewise; only the hounds and the shrill-voiced young dogs continued
barking.

The darkness was rent by a long narrow lane of light. A door had been
opened in a tightly-closed house, just beyond the dogs.

"Down, Tige! Git out, Beauty!" said Forstner, imperiously. "Lay down,
Watch! Quiet Bruno!"

The clamors of the gang changed to little yelps of welcome.

"Is that you, Jim?" inquired a high-pitched but not unpleasant voice,
from the door.

"Yes, Aunt Debby," answered Fortner, "an' I hev some one with me."

As the two approached, surrounded by the fawning dogs, a slender, erect
woman appeared in the doorway, holding above her head, by its nail and
chain, one of the rude iron lamps common in the houses of the South.

"Everything all right, Aunt Debby?" asked Fortner, as, after entering,
he turned from firmly securing the door, by placing across it a strong
wooden bar that rested in the timbers on either side.

"Yes, thank God!" she said with quiet fervor. She stepped with graceful
freedom over the floor, and hung the lamp up by thrusting the nail into
a crack in one of the logs forming the walls of the room. "An' how
is hit with ye?" she asked, facing Fortner, with her large gray eyes
eloquent with solicitude.

"O, ez fur me, I'm jes ez sound ez when I left heah last week, 'cept
thet I'm tireder 'n a plow mule at night, an' hongrier nor a b'ar thet's
lived all Winter by suckin' hits paws."

"I s'pose y' air tired an' hongry; ye look hit," said the woman, with
a compassionate glance at Harry, who had sunk limpy into a chair before
the glowing wood-fire that filled up a large part of the end of the
room.

"Set down by the fire," she continued, "an' I'll git ye some pone an'
milk. Thar's nothin' better ter start in on when yer rale empty." She
went to a rude cupboard in the farther part of the room, whence the note
of colliding crockery soon gave information that she was busy.

Fortner took a bunch of tow from his pouch, and with it wiped off every
particle of dampness from the outside of his rifle, after which he
laid the gun on two wooden hooks above the fireplace, and hung the
accouterments on deer horns at its breech.

"Pull off yer shoes an' toast yer feet," he said to Harry. "The fire'll
draw the tiredness right out."

Harry's relaxed fingers fumbled vainly with the wet and obstinate
shoe-strings. Aunt Debby came up with a large bowl of milk in each hand,
and a great circular loaf