we were to cross. Pine knots were lighted in the
big room, the fiddlers set to again, and then came jigs and three and
four handed reels that made the puncheons rattle,--chicken-flutter
and cut-the-buckle,--and Polly Ann was the leader now, the young men
flinging the girls from fireplace to window in the reels, and back
again; and when, panting and perspiring, the lass was too tired to stand
longer, she dropped into the hospitable lap of the nearest buck who was
perched on the bench along the wall awaiting his chance. For so it went
in the backwoods in those days, and long after, and no harm in it that
ever I could see.

Well, suddenly, as if by concert, the music stopped, and a shout of
laughter rang under the beams as Polly Ann flew out of the door with the
girls after her, as swift of foot as she. They dragged her, a struggling
captive, to the bride-chamber which made the other end of the house, and
when they emerged, blushing and giggling and subdued, the fun began with
Tom McChesney. He gave the young men a pretty fight indeed, and long
before they had him conquered the elder guests had made their escape
through door and window.

All night the reels and jigs went on, and the feasting and drinking too.
In the fine rain that came at dawn to hide the crests, the company rode
wearily homeward through the notches.

CHAPTER VIII. THE NOLLICHUCKY TRACE

Some to endure, and many to quail,
Some to conquer, and many to fail,
Toiling over the Wilderness Trail.

As long as I live I shall never forget the morning we started on our
journey across the Blue Wall. Before the sun chased away the filmy veil
of mist from the brooks in the valley, the McChesneys, father, mother,
and children, were gathered to see us depart. And as they helped us to
tighten the packsaddles Tom himself had made from chosen tree-forks,
they did not cease lamenting that we were going to certain death. Our
scrawny horses splashed across the stream, and we turned to see a gaunt
and lonely figure standing apart against the sun, stern and sorrowful.
We waved our hands, and set our faces towards Kaintuckee.

Tom walked ahead, rifle on shoulder, then Polly Ann; and lastly I drove
the two shaggy ponies, the instruments of husbandry we had been able
to gather awry on their packs,--a scythe, a spade, and a hoe. I
triumphantly carried the axe.

It was not long before we were in the wilderness, shut in by mountain
crags, and p