Feb. 12, 1910.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
249 
softened for a moment and he paused in his 
narrative. Then with an appealing look at his 
sister he continued: 
“Well, we camped right there an’ next morn- 
in’ give the holler tree a smokin’, then we cut 
it down an’ when it fell it struck across a 
sound log which lay on the ground and crushed 
in its side an’ pressed the honey comb so tight 
at that spot that the pure honey poured out of 
a knot hole on the other side which Link sot 
down on to keep the honey back till we could 
git a plug, but he no more’n sot down when he 
changed his mind and jumped more’n ten feet, 
for a bee struck him about the time he struck 
the log. It’s amazin’ how quick a man can 
change his mind, ain’t it?” 
After supper pipes were filled and we gath¬ 
ered around the hickory fire. 
“Boys,” said Uncle Nathan, “I guess you will 
find a good many pa’tridges down about Long 
Gorge and the cave to-morrow. I’ve seen lots 
of them there lately.” 
“Speaking of the cave, Uncle Nathan, will you 
tell us the story of how you found it?” 
“Good many years ago,” said Nathan, “back 
in 1830, there was a good many bear an’ deer 
in the mountains then and a lot of cats, and 
I bein’ a young feller and likin’ the rifle, I was 
in the mountains a good deal. One mornin’ I 
starts out at the crack of day—it was the last 
week in August—to meet a young man named 
Judson Frost from the other side of the river. 
We started into the mountains above Rocky 
Glen, and after gittin’ pretty well on top, we 
still-hunted until noon. Then we agreed to 
separate and meet about an hour by the sun 
near the point of rocks southeast from the bar¬ 
racks two miles. 
“Things worked all right for me. I follered 
up an’ shot a buck an’ had him skinned ready 
for carryin’ by half-past five. So I trudged 
along toward the meetin’ place and hadn’t been 
there more'n twenty minutes afore Judson he 
came up an’ was worried an’ excited over a 
bear he had seen a mile south, but had not been 
able to make a tellin’ shot at. So we agreed to 
start right off and try an’ kill that bear afore 
dark and then camp for the night. We got down 
to the big ledge on the east side of the moun¬ 
tain and hunted careful an’ could not see the 
bear. Judson says to me: ‘I’ll go to the north 
end of the ledge an’ you to the south.’ We 
found some sign, but couldn't find the critter, 
an’ it was gettin’ dark. We concluded he must 
have winded us an’ made tracks for other parts 
to the east. We found a good place to camp 
right by a spring head. Before us there was a 
high ridge covered with big rocks an’ thifck with 
bushes. We made no fire, for the night was 
warm an’ we had nothing to cook an’ lay down 
under a big cedar tree an’ went sound asleep. 
“I woke up by hearin’ somebody speak, I 
thought. Any rate, I was starin’ wide awake 
in ten seconds. It must ’a’ bin after midnight 
and the moon was high up an’ bright. So I 
sot up an’ looked around an’ had about made 
up my mind that Judson must ’a’ spoke in his 
sleep, or I had dreamed it, when I see a man 
standin’ in some low bushes right by a big rock 
a little way up on the side of the ridge. The 
moon was a-shinin’ rieht on him an’ he was a- 
lookin’ down the valley. So thinks I, ‘How did 
you come here?’ You see, he was dressed in 
dark clothes and didn’t look like a hunter. Well, 
I was on the p’int of speaking to him, knowin’ 
he couldn’t see me from where he stood, when 
he stepped out of sight in the bushes an’ be¬ 
hind the big rock—just seemed to sort of vanish 
—an’ I felt queer all over. 
“I waited an’ waited an’ the man did not 
appear. Then I gets up and goes exactly to 
the spot where I sees him a-standin’, an’ what 
do you think? Why, there was the bushes and 
there was the big rock what I could walk all 
around, an’ there was the loose stones, but no 
man in dark clothes. So says I to myself, ‘This 
is curious; can’t make it out.’ I looked an’ I 
looked an’ couldn’t see no man or any place 
where he could hide; besides what was the use 
of his hidin’? 
“I went back under the cedar tree an’ sot 
down by Judson, an’ the more I thought on it 
the more I was worked up. Sometimes I thought 
I hadn’t seen the man, but was only half awake 
an’ thought I had seen him, but then I had 
seen him a-standin’ right before me not more 
than twenty-five or thirty yards, an’ when I’d 
think of it that way I was sort of scairt. In 
them days I wasn’t afraid of anything that I 
could face. I laid down an’ a-thinkin’ the hull 
thing over an’ over an’ went half way to sleep. 
“At daybreak I shook Judson an’ asked him 
to come back to the p’int of rocks an’ we’d have 
some deer meat for breakfast an’ then try and 
git the bear’s trail. I was on the p’int of tellin’ 
Judson wha N t I had seen an’ then felt sort of 
’shamed-like, for in the broad daylight I begun 
to think it was all a dream. I didn’t feel true 
right all the same, so I blazed the cedar tree 
an’ me an’ Judson took up the ridge right past 
the big rock an’ bushes, an’ then I thought it 
must be a dream, for no human man could ’a’ 
stood by that rock an’ got out of my sight an’ 
hearin’ on that rough ground so quick. 
“‘What you stoppin’ an’ lookin’ at?’ said Jud¬ 
son. ‘Oh, nothin’,’ said I. ‘Looks as if you 
was lookin’ for somethin’,’ he says, ‘an’ you 
look sort of pale.’ So then I up an’ told Jud¬ 
son all about it, an’ he says, ‘Well, you just 
dreamed it, for don’t you see that no one could 
stand by that rock an’ disappear so suddent an’ 
you not be able to foller the sound?’ 
“We didn’t say much more about it, but when 
I did say anything, Judson only laughed an’ 
wanted to know if I hadn’t been takin’ a leetle 
too much Santa Cruz rum. We did git good 
Santa Cruz in them days an’ your grandfather, 
William, could help lower the jug in hay an’ 
harvest; he alius kept it free as water for his 
hands. 
“Soon we reached the p’int of rocks an’ after 
a good breakfast from deer meat an’ what bread 
we had left, we started back to the ledge an’ 
took up the bear’s trail as best we could, but 
had to give it up by noon. Then we started for 
my house, reachin’ there about 2 o’clock, fixed 
to go back takin’ a couple of hounds. You re¬ 
member hearing us speak of ‘Dutch,’ an old black 
an’ tan hound? Well, Dutch was one of the 
hounds an’ the best dog that ever tracked an 
animal, but that was his last hunt.” 
The old man’s eye brightened and his figure 
straightened as he remembered the incidents 
surrounding the tragic death of the good dog 
endeared to him by the many ties that exist be¬ 
tween dog and master. 
“Well, we made ready to go back an’ took 
enough to eat for two men an’ the hounds for 
a couple of days. It must have been nigh to 
5 o’clock afore the dogs found the bear’s trail, 
an’ the scent not bein’ very warm, the hounds 
found trouble jn trackin’ the animal, an’ worked 
slow an’ of course we didn’t have much trouble 
in keepin’ up with them. The young dog worked 
very fair. Dutch didn’t make much fuss till 
we came to a place where the bear had laid 
down, an’ the scent was warm. Then the old 
dog give tongue an’ was off like a streak, fol¬ 
lowed by the young dog, both of them makin’ 
the most beautiful music. We knew the dogs 
would drive the bear on to the divide an’ corner 
him among some of the rocks, an’ then we 
might git in for a shot; besides, there was a 
likelihood he might cross in front of us some 
where near enough for a shot. 
“The night was fine. The moon as bright as 
I’d ever seen it. After we arrived at a place 
where we agreed to wait, we sot down on a log 
an’ listened for the yap of the hounds which 
just then we could not hear. At last we heard 
them away off to the south’ard, just as soft as 
the cry of a baby. I could recognize the voice 
of old Dutch, an’ I know’d when he was a- 
callin’ that way the animal what he was trackin’ 
was near an’ goin’ his best licks. 
“Then Judson says: ‘Nathan, it won’t be long 
afore they’ll be this way,’ and then we could 
hear it down the gorge. We got our rifles ready, 
an’ havin’ the wind in our favor, stood a-look- 
in’, expectin’ every minute to see the bear a- 
comin’, for we were in the track he would most 
likely take, as we stood there. We heard the 
bear cornin’ over the broken ground, breathin’ 
hard, almost winded, an’ Judson raised his rifle 
an’ I gripped mine. At this minute we heard 
the sharp crack of a rifle followed by the miss- 
able cry of a hound, an’ at that minit the bear 
was in plain sight and stopped an’ raised up at 
the sound of that rifle. Then we cut loose on 
him. He turned clear around an’ dropped dead. 
“Says Judson: ‘Who fired that shot?’ The 
Lord knows,’ says I. ‘Did you hear the hound? 
It was Dutch that made that cry. What does 
it mean? No man that is a man would shoot a 
hound.’ 
“Then, boys, a queer feelin’ come over me, 
an’ the very first thought that come into my 
mind was the man I had seen a-standin’ by the 
big rock dressed in dark clothes. I could see 
his white face and white hands in the moon¬ 
light. Presently the young dog came in, an’ as 
soon as he seen the bear he howled over the 
remains. We waited a long time for Dutch an’ 
he didn’t come. I was jist a tellin’ Judson that 
I was goin’ to look for the dog, when we heard 
a whimperin’. I rushed forward and there was 
poor old Dutch a-crawlin’ toward me, an’ when 
he looked up at me so mournful-like, an’ when 
I found he was hit by a rifle ball in the body 
an’ was a-dyin’, I thought if I had the devil 
that done that I could all but kill him. I took 
Dutch in my arms an’ talked to him an’ he 
licked my face an’ my hands, moanin’ and 
mournful an’ looked at me as if sayin’: ‘Ain’t 
I been a good dog? Ain’t it too bad for me 
to die this way?’ I jist laid him down in a soft 
place and cried. 
“ ‘Nathan, look at Dutch,’ says Judson. I 
looked an’ the old dog’s head was raised in the 
air an’ he was snuffin’ the breeze; his eyes 
glared an’ he staggered to his feet. I spoke to 
him an’ he turned a little an’ wagged his tail. 
