its cable like an
awakening sea-monster. Meanwhile, the mother had cooked a great pone of
corn-bread, three feet in diameter, and had ground coffee and got sides
of bacon ready. All night it poured and the dawn came clear, only to
darken into gray again. But the river--the river! The roar of it filled
the woods. The frothing hem of it swished through the tops of the trees
and through the underbrush, high on the mountain-side. Arched slightly
in the middle, for the river was still rising, it leaped and surged,
tossing tawny mane and fleck and foam as it thundered along--a mad,
molten mass of yellow struck into gold by the light of the sun. And
there the raft, no longer the awkward monster it was the day before,
floated like a lily-pad, straining at the cable as lightly as a
greyhound leaping against its leash.

The neighbors were gathered to watch the departure--old Jerry Budd,
blacksmith and "yarb doctor," and his folks; the Cultons and
Middletons, and even the Dillons--little Tad and Whizzer--and all. And
a bright picture of Arcadia the simple folk made, the men in homespun
and the women with their brilliant shawls, as they stood on the bank
laughing, calling to one another, and jesting like children. All were
aboard now and there was no kissing nor shaking hands in the farewell.
The good old mother stood on the bank, with Melissa holding to her
apron and looking at Chad gravely.

"Take good keer o' yo'self, Chad," she said kindly, and then she looked
down at the little girl. "He's a-comin' back, honey--Chad's a-comin'
back." And Chad nodded brightly, but Melissa drew her apron across her
mouth, dropped her eyes to the old rifle in the boy's lap, and did not
smile.

All were aboard now--Dolph and Rube, old Squire Middleton, and the
school-master, all except Tall Tom, who stood by the tree to unwind the
cable.

"Hold on!" shouted the Squire.

A raft shot suddenly around the bend above them and swept past with the
Dillon brothers Jake and Jerry, nephews of old Tad Dillon, at bow and
stern--passed with a sullen wave from Jerry and a good-natured smile
from stupid Jake.

"All right," Tom shouted, and he unwound the great brown pliant vine
from the sycamore and leaped aboard. Just then there was a mad howl
behind the house and a gray streak of light flashed over the bank and
Jack, with a wisp of rope around his neck, sprang through the air from
a rock ten feet high and landed lightly on the last log as the raft
sho