A woodpecker's telegraphy broke the quiet like a volley of pistol shots.
But far eastward on the pike there slowly developed a soft, white haze.
It grew denser and larger.

Gradually it rolled nearer.

Dimly behind it could be discerned a darker, moving nucleus that extended far back upon the road.

A heavy tremor began to stir the air--faint manifold sounds, a waxing, increasing, multitudinous rumor.
The pike ascended a long, slight slope leading west up to the Cross-Roads.

From a thicket of iron-weed at the foot of this slope was thrust the hard, lean visage of an undersized girl of fourteen.