Juba, the negro, moved closer to his master; then upon an impulse stooped, and lifting above his head a great rock, threw it with might into one of the shallow pools.

The crashing sound broke the spell of the loneliness and quiet that had fallen upon the place.

The white man drew his breath, shrugged his shoulders, and turned his horse's head down the way up which he had so lately come.
The cabin in the valley was not three miles away.

Down this ravine to a level place of pines, through the pines to a strip of sassafras and a poisoned field, past these into a dark, rich wood of mighty trees linked together with the ripening grape, then three low hills, then the valley and the cabin and a pair of starry eyes.

It was full moon.