The tail sank, the whole beast seemed to shrink, and
suddenly he slunk away with amazing agility. Poor fellow
--he did not know that many a time I had fed some of his
brothers in cruel winters. But he came to know me, as I
knew him; for whenever he left me on later drives, very
close to Bell's corner, after I had finished my lunch,
he would start right back on my trail, nose low, and I
have no doubt that he picked up the bits of bacon which
I had dropped as tidbits for him.
I drove and drove. The sun neared the horizon now It was
about six o'clock. The poplar thickets on both sides of
the road began to be larger. In front the trail led
towards a gate in a long, long line of towering cottonwoods.
What was beyond?
It proved to be a gate indeed. Beyond the cottonwoods
there ran an eastward grade lined on the north side by
a ditch which I had to cross on a culvert. It will
henceforth be known as the "twelve-mile bridge." Beyond
the culvert the road which I followed had likewise been
worked up into a grade. I did not like it, for it was
new and rough. But less did I like the habitation at the
end of its short, one-mile career.
Pages:
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27