l holding fast to the pointed head.

"God made ye beautiful," she crooned, "ye can stay there and let me pet
ye. I air got to have somethin' to love."

Turning back to the table, she contemplated the remaining fish for
thirty seconds or so in indecision. Had her own desire ruled, she would
have put them all back into the lake--she would not have killed them;
but to-night--to-night it was for Daddy's sake--he was more to her than
all of nature's creatures. With expert fingers, she sent the life from
the twisting eels, and gathering them into a small bag, Tessibel slung
them over her arm and broke off into the dark forest, the twigs
cracking under her small bare feet as she went. Here and there the curls
of red hair would catch in the branches, and the girl would tear them
loose, leaving a blazed trail of copper threads marking her path.

Up to the ragged rocks she went, through the gorges and brooks until she
came in sight of a small dark hut set deeply in the opposite bank of a
ravine, through which water was flowing. To reach the hut the child
scaled the deep gorge and clambered up the other side.

The shanty was dark and Tessibel stood long looking intently at it. Over
the top, which was covered with tar paper, scraped the branches of a
large tree--the wind was dashing a dead vine mournfully against a broken
window. Although on friendly terms with Mother Moll, Tess had always
stood in awe of her, but the squatter girl had infinite confidence in
the future events foretold by the witch. To-night she must see the
woman--must ask her news of Daddy Skinner from the fortune pot. The dead
fish hanging upon the slender arm were to propitiate the witch's anger
for being dragged from her bed in the night.

Tess stepped shivering to the door and knocked. Receiving no answer, she
sent another pealing sound through the howling wind, for she knew Mother
Moll was there.

Suddenly a voice came from within.

"What in the devil's name do ye want here, at this time of the
darkness?"

"It air Tess, Ma Moll. I wants yer fortune pot."

"Go home and come agin to-morry."

"Won't," Tess sent back defiantly, "air goin' to see ye to-night. I air
goin' to give ye somethin' for yer luck pot."

A scramble, a hurrying sound from within, and the door was dragged open.
Tess stepped into the dark room,--the whizzing of insects overhead
coming dimly to her through the rocking of the shanty. One broad-winged
clammy night bat whirled close t