Sunlight Patch Part 41

Days of restlessness followed that drive to the chapel. Brent said one afternoon in desperation that they were so heavy and oppressive he was actually creaking under them;--and Uncle Zack, after watching him critically as he walked away, shook his head in doubt whether he could hear anything or not. But the work went stubbornly on, in spite of the dull gnawing which made it, and reform--and life, indeed--seem meaningless. With this grew another worry, shared more deeply by the Colonel, as time brought no hint of Tusk's fate. Both men were beginning to believe that he had crawled back in some ravine and died, but neither would voice so dismal a suggestion.

It was the Fourth of July. In order to dispel some of the gloom, the Colonel had issued a proclamation calling both families to a.s.semble there upon the lawn at four of the clock, to celebrate, in a sane or insane manner, the patriotic day. To Dale, Bip and Aunt Timmie this brought much excitement. The feelings of Miss Liz were also stirred, but rather with a solemn thrill of reverence for her departed heroes.

Boy-like, the old gentleman had sat up late the previous night checking off an a.s.sortment of fireworks especially ordered from the city, and not infrequently examining with pleasurable interest some new pyrotechnic fountain or bomb. But these were for the grand evening display. The afternoon was to be given princ.i.p.ally to oratory. Bip, however, should fire a few crackers, and Dale had yielded to Brent's request to demonstrate the mountain people's skill at rifle shooting. Tales of their prowess, the engineer had declared, were more wonderful than believable.

The Colonel had just beaten him at another game of chess, and they were now leaning back in their chairs weary from the exertion, for it had been a long and difficult struggle, when gradually the murmur of excited voices floated in to them. One of these was ponderous and irascible, while the other possessed the fire of youth. As the disputants neared the gate both men looked up with understanding smiles. Then presently the rickety buggy creaked into view, with Aunt Timmie giving angry tugs at the reins but in no wise stimulating her old mule. On his pony, Bip rode.

She had awakened that morning in a direful mood on account of being entrusted the evening before with a package of fire crackers, each of which, she indignantly told Bob, would put out the little boy's eyes in no time! All during the drive to Arden she had been shaking her head and murmuring her intention of burying them in the creek;--a calamity which Bip was resisting with every argument in his power. They were too hotly engaged in this to notice the silently amused men, and wended their way to the stables, the voices becoming fainter but not losing their strident tones.

As the hour of festivities approached, it was more than curiosity which dragged Dale from the library. The proclamation said that he would hear oratory of the good and stirring kind--the kind of which he had read in the days of Lincoln and Clay. There would be something to learn, and, but for this, the lure of his books might have held him fast. Now, tremendously interested, he was sitting on the top porch step, with his long rifle upright between his knees. This was merely for his own part in the celebration when he intended to satisfy the doubting Brent.

A great deal of badinage accompanied the festivity. Bob acted as master of ceremonies, the Colonel and Brent were pledged to orations, while the three ladies and Mac const.i.tuted the vast throng of spellbound onlookers. Bip, having for the moment forgotten his fire crackers, was dancing with delighted antic.i.p.ation. Zack was teeming with mirth--abetted, no doubt, by a heel-tap or two from the Colonel's retiring goblet. Seated in a half circle on the gra.s.s were cl.u.s.tered the pickaninnies and their grinning forebears. All was ready, and over the scene Miss Liz smiled with placid contentment. It was fitting, she had more than once this day averred, for them to turn their minds patriotward.

Bob now stepped out and introduced the first great feature: "Bip, the Bouncing Buster of Boozicks and the Fearless Firer of Fireworks, with the admirable a.s.sistance of that adaptable and adamant Timorous-are-ye-poor-mortal-worms, will twist the tail of the tawny lion and break the barbarous bandetta of benighted Britain!" This being announced in one sentence, Bob promptly collapsed amidst cheers from the porch and high squeaks from the darker circle--with the one exception of Aunt Timmie. For Zack had maliciously whispered: "He done call you a-dam-ant"--and, indeed, she had heard it with her own ears. A picture of outraged dignity now, she stalked grandly away. It took ten minutes to get the celebration once more in running order, and Aunt Timmie brought to a better understanding.

The little boy advanced into the circle, placed a fire cracker in the gra.s.s, and lit it. But, with the first sputtering of its fuse, the old negress clasped him to her breast and rushed out of harm's way. It was not an exhibition of which a Fearless Firer might have been proud, nor did the screams of laughter greeting it serve to palliate his anger. But it was neither fun nor anger with Aunt Timmie. Her mind was a torment of fear lest he be maimed for life. Since early morning she had employed every art, every diplomatic ruse in which her race is so proficient, to avoid this dangerous pastime. Now suddenly, and without warning, she stopped in a startled att.i.tude of thought until all eyes were turned on her, then sat upon the lowest step and broke into uncontrollable spasms of mirth. Tears ran down her furrowed cheeks, and the oak step, that had not these four generations yielded to the weight of Mays, creaked beneath this onslaught of convulsive avoirdupois.

"Lawd," she finally gasped. "Dis heah fracas jest 'mind me of sumfin ole fool Zack done one time!"

Uncle Zack screwed his face into a network of interrogating wrinkles and furtively watched her. He was not yet sure whether to be amused or offended.

"Ma.r.s.e John," she looked up, "does you 'member dat time he wuz deacon of de new chu'ch, an' busted up de n.i.g.g.e.rs' faith wid Sapry's weddin'

cake?"

It must have brought something to the Colonel's mind, for he began to chuckle.

"Sapry wuz a yaller gal of de Cunnel's, who'se 'ngaged to mahry a dude n.i.g.g.e.r on Mister Lige Dudley's place, turr side of town. Nuthin' 'ud do but Zack must perform dat cer'mony--him jest bein' 'lected haid deacon of de new chu'ch what had its meetin's under a big sycamoh tree down by de crick. Dey called it a Foh Day Baptis' Chu'ch--dat is, fer foh days you'se a Baptis', an' de rest de week you'se nuthin' 't all. Ole Zack wuz crazy 'bout it; in fac', he wuz de prime mover, cyarrin' on most of his op'rations durin' dem las' three days. Well, de Cunnel give us one of de out-buildin's fer dis heah weddin', an' I'd done made de cake--I'd done made two cakes, but de second wuz fer Miss Ann's bu'fday; she bein'

'bout six, or sich a matter. All de n.i.g.g.e.rs seen how purty 'twuz wid de candles on it what Ma.r.s.e John done got in de city; an' de dude n.i.g.g.e.r seen it, too. So what'd he do but slip Zack a piece of money, an' tell him to git some of dem candles fer _his_ cake. Den Zack stole out on a mule, an' rid to town;--an' now i'se gwine tell you how he busted up dat chu'ch!"

She began again to laugh, and the Colonel, wiping tears from his eyes, merrily cried:

"It's the truth, every word of it!"

"Dem wuz de days when de stoh at Buckville never had nuthin' less'n a hund'ed yeahs old," she continued, "--dat is, 'cept when it come down by mistake; an' it jest happen dat dis heah wuz one of dem mistakes. Ole Zack walked in an' axed fer red, yaller, green an' blue candles, an' all at onct a light come in de stoh-keeper's face. 'Why, bress mah soul,' he say, 'some of dem come down yisterday wid anurr order,' he say. 'Dey's marked Roman candles,' he say, 'an' de bill says foh colors,' he say.

But, 'course, dat don' mean nuthin' to him or Zack.

"Den de weddin' night come on. Zack wuz so stuck on hisse'f wid a swaller-tail coat what didn' fit, an' Bible what he couldn' read, dar warn't no gittin' nigh 'im. He go in whar de tables wuz, an' fix dese heah candles on de cake, jest lak he seen 'em on li'l Miss Ann's.

'How-c.u.m dey's bigger?' de dude n.i.g.g.e.r axed. '_You'se_ bigger, ain'

you?' Zack say, an' he walk 'way. Den ole Zack come out 'gin, bowin'

hisse'f an' sc.r.a.pin' his foots to de gals lak he's done lost what li'l sense he ever had. De n.i.g.g.e.rs all prance in de doh, an' stand 'round de table, 'spressin' deyse'ves so proud of dem candles on sich a purty cake. Ole Zack stand at de haid an' say: 'Mah bruddern an' sistern, dis am a 'mentous 'ccasion! I'se gwine to clasp in de th'oes of matermony dis heah couple, but 'foh I does we'll pernounce grace, takin' our tex'

from dat po'tion of de Scripture whar Liza rid out de doh in a charity of fyah! Light de candles, bruddern!' So dey all struck matches, jest lak one man, an' lit dem candles!

"Lawd help us!" Aunt Timmie threw her ap.r.o.n over her face. "If Miss Liza done rid out de doh in a charity of fyah, she suttenly change her min'

an' rid back in agin! Dem candles begin to sizzle an' spit up sparks, an' shoot up b.a.l.l.s of terror dat bust 'ginst de ceilin' an' come down--kersplas.h.!.+ all over us! De n.i.g.g.e.rs stood lak a pa.s.sel of sheep fer a minit--'twarn't as long as dat--den someun yell 'Witches!' An' dey charge fer de doh, an' when de doh git choked up dey charge fer de winder, an' when de winder git choked up--but I ain' got de heart to recall dat turr'ble night!"

"Did it really happen, Colonel?" Brent cried.

"Every word of it, sir," the old gentleman chuckled. "The rascals burned down my out building, and I believe the groom did not come back, at all."

"Dat's de truff," Aunt Timmie declared. "An' poh Sapry run clar in de crick! Dey foun' her standin' waist deep, yellin' an' fightin' off lightnin'-bugs lak dey's gwine set her on fyah. An' it all come from foolin' wid dese heah pop-cracks! I knows!" Then persuasively she whispered to the little boy: "Come 'long, now, honey--let's me an' you set down heah nice, an' see de ole folks cut up!" This time she accomplished it.

When Bob introduced "the Sharpshooter of Sunlight Patch," another great burst of good natured applause went up; although Brent and the Colonel could not help exchanging glances. It seemed such an impertinence, following upon his other performance with this same rifle; but he had apparently given this no thought, and now stepped out, flushed and determined. About his shoulders swung a bullet pouch and powder horn. He loaded the piece, carefully cutting a patch for the ball; then from his waistcoat pocket drew forth a small tin box of percussion caps, fitted one of these, and was ready.

a.s.sisted by Bob, who improvised all manner of moving targets, he made hit after hit with a sureness provoking cries of admiration. Quickly challenged, he clipped the tip of a feather from the wing of an over-flying crow; and to show it were no accident he repeated this on another speeding bird. A dime tossed into the air was whirled through s.p.a.ce, and a plum sent bounding over the ground was shattered. Brent and the old gentleman exchanged another glance and slowly shook their heads, for it seemed there could be no hope for Tusk before so deadly an aim.

The marvel was how he had been able to crawl away.

With this last, and most perfect shot, Bob declared he had fairly won the world's champions.h.i.+p, and presented him with a huge bouquet. The mountaineer flushed with a strange gripping pleasure, looking quickly at Jane who smiled proudly back at him. But there was another surprise to come. Uncle Zack stalked forth with a new high-power rifle like the one Dale had so feverishly admired in the Colonel's possession; and Bob, presenting it, said:

"A token, in admiration of your skill, from Goethals the younger: Mr.

McElroy!"

If this were a surprise to the porch audience, it almost overcame the blus.h.i.+ng Dale, who grasped it, ran his eyes along its sights, and then looked in a bewildered, happy fas.h.i.+on again at Jane. She was smiling--and with a rarely sweet expression--but not at the Sharpshooter of Sunlight Patch. The direction of her eyes suggested the necessity of politeness, and he started across the circle toward Brent, when the air was rent by a sharp explosion.

Everyone was frozen to an instant silence, alert for that cry which so often follows sounds of violence. True enough, from the direction of the cabins, came a long, plaintive wail of distress.

The Colonel and his friends sprang up with shocked faces and hurried back. But before them were the negroes, now gathered in helpless, awe-struck groups about a small boy lying in the path. It was little Mesmie, and a glance at her arms, the shattered, still smoking fragments of a giant cracker, told the pitiful story of inexperience, a quick fuse, irreparable horror.

As gently as the child's mother would have done, had she been alive to view this pitiable sight, Brent stooped and lifted her. The Colonel motioned toward her father's cabin a few yards off, and there the procession wended its solemn way. Someone went after Bradford, while Jane hurried to telephone for Doctor Stone, and in less than ten minutes his runabout was chugging out the pike at its top speed of fifteen good miles an hour.

It was a curious sight when the noisy little machine dashed between the old cla.s.sic gate posts, beneath the low swinging wild-grape vines, and around the silent tanbark circle to the Colonel's secluded home. It was the only thing, indeed, which had been able to check the sobs of Bip for his injured playmate.

To the mutual indignation of the Colonel and Bradford, Doctor Stone sent them quickly from the room, keeping Jane and Timmie to help him with the dressings. Later Jane came out and sat with Ann.

As evening approached, Arden grew deathly still beneath the sadness which had thrust its fangs into the joyous day; the heavy, sickening sadness which comes more poignantly to those whose gaieties have been shocked by tragedy. Silently, and with murmured injunctions to keep them advised, Bob's household took its way homeward, leaving Aunt Timmie to nurse the little sufferer. Miss Liz had offered to do this, and so had Jane and Ann, but the old woman indignantly waved them aside.

"What d' you-all know 'bout nussin'?" she had asked, with a fine degree of scorn.

But the true reason was that Bip loved Mesmie, and this gave Mesmie a claim upon Aunt Timmie's love.

CHAPTER XXVIII

AUNT TIMMIE HEARS A SECRET

Uncle Zack was sitting, shortly after noon a week later, on the door step of Bradford's cottage. Mesmie was sleeping by the aid of a mild narcotic, and Aunt Timmie, having darkened the windows, had now come quietly out to converse with him. Her seven days of vigilance had been trying to a degree, and, although while in the sick room she was the very soul of tenderness, this opportunity for relaxation came as a grateful relief. Therefore, Zack had been pa.s.sing through several uncomfortable minutes, during the course of which he heard a great deal about "wu'thless n.i.g.g.e.rs what sponges off dey twin wife," and other caustic observations.

His position was becoming altogether unbearable, yet he knew that if he attempted flight she would bring him back, and if he openly rebelled she would spank him. Only on the Colonel's last birthday she had turned him over her knee in good earnest, because he imbibed too many heel-taps to wait upon the table. So, resorting to diplomacy, he a.s.sumed a wise air and hinted that he might not be so untrustworthy as she had been misled to believe--that, indeed, he was the possessor of a startling piece of news.

This mollified Aunt Timmie. If she could get nothing else out of her gamble on Zack's earthly existence, she might at least know his secrets.

As a matter of fact, she would be most righteously hurt if every family secret did not with proper humility walk up and lay its head in her lap.

So she began, using a bait which long experience had proven fruitful when angling in Zack's vicinity.

"You don' know nuthin'," she tilted her chin with a grand air of scorn.

"You never did know nuthin', an' it hu'ts me mos' persumptuously to say dat you ain' never gwine know nuthin'!"