or his
later years. The glare of noonday lay on the unshaded spaces of the
quadrangle without; for all trees had been felled, even far around the
inclosure, lest thence they might afford vantage and ambush for musketry
fire or a flight of arrows into the stockade. Through rifts in the
foliage at considerable distance one could see the dark mountain looming
high above, and catch glimpses of the further reaches of the Great Smoky
Range, blue and shimmering far away, and even distinguish the crest of
"Big Injun Mountain" on the skyline. The several cabins, all connected
by that row of protective palisades from one to another like a visible
expression of the chord of sympathy and mutual helpful neighborliness,
were quiet, their denizens dining within. At the blockhouse a guard was
mounted--doubtless a watchful and stanch lookout, but unconforming to
military methods, for he sang, to speed the time, a metrical psalm of
David's; the awkward collocation of the words of this version would
forever distort the royal poet's meaning if he had no other vehicle of
his inspiration. There were long waits between the drowsy lines, and in
the intervals certain callow voices, with the penetrating timbre of
youth, came to Emsden's ear. His eyes followed the sound quickly.

The little sisters of Peninnah Penelope Anne were on the floor before a
playhouse, outlined by stones and sticks, and with rapt faces and
competent fancies, saw whatsoever they would. In these riches of
imagination a little brother also partook. A stick, accoutred in such
wise with scraps of buckskin as to imitate a gallant of the place and
period, was bowing respectfully before another stick, vested in the
affabilities of age and the simulacrum of a dressing-gown.

"I love your granddaughter, sir, and wish to make her my wife," said the
bowing stick.

"Command me, sir; command me!" suavely replied the stick stricken in
years.

The scene had been an eye-opener to the tender youth of the little
Mivanes; the pomp and circumstance of a sentimental disclosure they
would never forget.

Emsden, as hardy a pioneer as ever drew a bead on a panther or an
Indian, passed on, quaking at the thought of the wits of the Station as
he had never yet feared man, and his respected Irish blood ran cold. And
when it waxed warm with wrath once more it came to pass that to utter
the simple phrase "Command me" was as much as a man's life was worth at
Blue Lick Station.

Emsden thought r