.

"Am I likely to tumble into the water while I'm fishing, James?"

"That depends, Davy." James looked profoundly at the sky.

"And what's the chance of my being bit by a rattlesnake, James?"

"I wouldn't say they was absolutely none, nor yet would I say they was
any chance at all." At every word of this sage opinion James wagged
his head.

We rode some distance in silence, and then I came to the real point of
my examination. "James, what kind of a man is a professor?"

James looked down at me gravely. "I s'pose, Davy, you have in mind
what Stacy Shunk said about him catchin' you."

"Oh, dear, no," I protested. "I was just wondering what kind of a man
he was."

"Well, Davy," James said, in a voice of mockery which silenced as well
as encouraged me, "if you can fall into the creek, be bit by a rattler,
and catched by the Professor all in the one-half hour we will be in the
mountains while I loaden this wagon with wood, I'll give you a medal
for being the liveliest young un I ever heard tell of. Mind, Davy,
I'll give you a medal."

With that he checked further questioning by breaking into a song, and
had he once descended from the heights to which he soared and shown any
sign that he was aware of my presence, pride would have restrained me
from pressing my trembling inquiry.

So, singing as we rode, we crossed the ridge, the mountain's guarding
bulwark; we left the open valley behind us and descended into the
wooded gut. We passed a few scattered houses with little clearings
around them, and then the trees drew in closer to us until the green of
their leafy masonry arched over our heads. At last I was in the
mountains! This was the mysterious topsy-turvy land, the land of
strange light and shadow to which I had so often gazed with wondering
eyes. In the excitement of its unfolding, in the interest with which I
followed the windings of the narrow road, I forgot the dangers which
threatened me in these quiet, friendly woods; and when I cast my line
into the tumbling brook I should have laughed at Mr. Pound, at Squire
Crumple, and Stacy Shunk, had I given them a thought. But even James's
kindly warnings were now uncalled for. That he should admonish me at
all I accepted as merely a formal compliance with his promise to my
mother that he would keep an eye on me. For him to keep an eye on me
was a physical impossibility, as the road plunged deeper into the
woods, bending just beyond the little bridge