t out on foot to find the
cliff, the moonbeams, though brilliant, were so intermittent that his
progress was fitful and necessarily cautious. When the disk shone out
full and clear, he made his way rapidly enough, but when the clouds
intervened, he stood still and waited.

"I ain't goin' ter fall off'n the bluff 'thout knowin' it," he said to
himself, in one of these eclipses, "ef I hev ter stand hyar all night."

The moonlight was brilliant and steady when he reached the verge of the
crag. He identified the spot by the mass of broken vines, and more
indubitably by Ethan's rifle lying upon the ground just at his feet. He
called, but received no response.

"Hev Ethan fell off, sure enough?" he asked himself, in great dismay and
alarm. Then he shouted again and again. At last there came an answer,
as though the speaker had just awaked.

"Pretty nigh beat out, I'm a-thinkin'!" commented Pete. He tied one end
of the cord around the trunk of a tree, knotted it at intervals, and
flung it over the bluff.

At first Ethan was almost afraid to stir. He slowly put forth his hand
and grasped the rope. Then, his heart beating tumultuously, he rose to
his feet.

He stood still for an instant to steady himself and get his breath.
Nerving himself for a strong effort, he began the ascent, hand over
hand, up, and up, and up, till once more he stood upon the crest of the
crag.

And, now that all danger was over, Pete was disposed to scold. "I'm
a-thinkin'," said Pete severely, "ez thar ain't a critter on this hyar
mounting, from a b'ar ter a copper-head, that could hev got in sech a
fix, 'ceptin' ye, Ethan Tynes."

And Ethan was silent.

"What's this hyar thing at the e-end o' the rope?" asked Pete, as he
began to draw the cord up, and felt a weight still suspended.

"It air the tur-r-key," said Ethan meekly.

"I tied her ter the e-end o' the rope afore I kem up."

"Waal, sir!" exclaimed Pete, in indignant surprise.

And George, for duty performed, was remunerated with the two "whings,"
although it still remains a question in the mind of Ethan whether or not
he deserved them.

IN THE "CHINKING"

Not far from an abrupt precipice on a certain great mountain spur there
stands in the midst of the red and yellow autumn woods a little log
"church-house." The nuts rattle noisily down on its roof; sometimes
during "evenin' preachin'"--which takes place in the afternoon--a
flying-squirrel frisks near the window; the hym