Fred found it hard travelling here and shortly we took off his harness and left the wagon, transferring its load to the basket, while we pushed on to find a camping place.

Back in the thick timber a long way from the road, we built a fire and had our supper.

It was a dry nook in the pines--'tight as a house,' Uncle Eb said--and carpeted with the fragrant needles.

When we lay on our backs in the firelight I remember the weary, droning voice of Uncle Eb had an impressive accompaniment of whispers.

While he told stories I had a glowing cinder on the end of a stick and was weaving fiery skeins in the gloom.
He had been telling me of a panther he had met in the woods, one day, and how the creature ran away at the sight of him.
'Why's a panther 'fraid o' folks ?' I enquired.
'Wall, ye see, they used t' be friendly, years 'n years ago--folks 'n panthers--but they want eggszac'ly cal'lated t' git along t'gether some way.