I got down, shortly, and walked beside him, holding on to the rifle with one hand.

We stumbled, often, and were long in the trail before we could see the moonlight through the tree columns.

In the clearing I climbed to my seat again and by and by we came to the road where my companion sat down resting his load on a boulder.
'Pretty hot, Uncle Eb, pretty hot,' he said to himself, fanning his brow with that old felt hat he wore everywhere.

'We've come three mile er more without a stop an' I guess we'd better rest a jiffy.' My legs ached too, and I was getting very sleepy.

I remember the jolt of the basket as he rose, and hearing him say, 'Well, Uncle Eb, I guess we'd better be goin'.' The elbow that held my head, lying on the rim of the basket, was already numb; but the prickling could no longer rouse me, and half-dead with weariness, I fell asleep.