64 NORTH CAROLINA 



lower country, now to some far-away wood- 

 land waterfall. The days were all too short 

 and all too few. Like a sensible man, to 

 whom years had brought the philosophic 

 mind, I had more than one string to my bow, 

 and toward the end of my three weeks the 

 very thought of ravens had mostly ceased 

 to trouble me. Then, on my last day in 

 the village, I met a barefooted boy near the 

 hotel. " Howdy ? " said I. " Howdy ? " he 

 answered; and then he asked, "Did you 

 git to see your ravens?" "Who is this, I 

 thought, and how does he know me ? For 

 I am not used to being famous. But I an- 

 swered No, I had seen no ravens. How 

 did he know I wanted to see any ? "I saw 

 you at Turtlepond," he said. He was out 

 there with his cousin. Cling Cabe. With 

 that it all came back to me. He was one 

 of the boys who had paid me such flattering- 

 noonday attentions, and of whom I had taken 

 so shabby a leave. I was glad to see him 

 again. But he was not yet done with his 

 story. Probably he had carried the burden 

 of it for the last fortnight. " Two ravens 

 flew over just after you left," he said. Was 

 he sure they were ravens ? Yes, his uncle 



