t trees. Where the sycamore lifted its gaunt, white arms, the
great bald eagle sat immovable, watching with fierce, intent gaze for
its prey in the waters below.

II

The shadows were growing long upon wood and river when the light dip
of a paddle broke upon the stillness, and old Jerry, rousing from his
nap, spied a canoe gliding down stream, guided by two youths who, with
their guns lying crosswise upon their knees, were making for the bank.

"Mars Harry an' Mars Phil," he murmured, eying them with lazy
curiosity, as they brought their little craft to land, and after
making it fast, picked up their guns, crossed the levee, and struck
off into the swamp.

"Dey's after turkey, I 'speck; Mars Harry an' me, we's killed many a
varmint in dese here woods. Dey want no Mars Phil 'bout here in dem
days befo' ole Mars were tuck down."

Thus soliloquizing, the old man continued to gaze wistfully after the
retreating figures; for their appearance had seemed to bring a
disturbing element into his peaceful dreams, and a look of helpless
trouble overspread his face as, taking off his hat and slowly
scratching his head, he murmured:--

"Seem like it mos' a pity Mars Phil trouble hisself for to come here,
anyhow. Well, well, well! we folks all gwine be 'vided up 'twix Mars
Harry an' Mars Phil, 'cause ole Mars, he not long for dis world! Bless
de Lord, whinsoever it please Him for to teck ole Mars to hisself, I
trus' he gwine 'vide off Jerry to Mars Harry's shere, 'cause I
nachally ain't got no use for t'other one--he too outlondesh."

So saying, he rose and reached his bucket from the bough where it
hung. Drive, who had for some moments been watching him out of the
corner of one red eye, rose also, and the two set out upon their tramp
back to the cart.

The old man had climbed the fence, the dog had scrambled through, and
both were threading their way across the swamp, when the report of a
gun close by caused the dog to beat a retreat from the thicket into
which he had thrust his nose, and, with tail tucked in, to creep to
his master's side; while the old man, exclaiming, "Good Gor-a-mighty!
whot dat?" pushed aside the bushes in order to see what game the boys
had brought down.

The sight that met his eyes froze him with horror. Philip's lifeless
body lay upon the ground, while Harry, with scared white face, bent
over it.

For a brief space the old man stood as if petrified, then muttered:
"Jerry ain't gwine know nothi