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Fox, John, 1863-1919

"The Trail of the Lonesome Pine"


"Hold tight!" Hale shouted, "I'm going to let him out now." At the
touch of his spur, the big black horse sprang into a gallop,
faster and faster, until he was pounding the hard road in a swift
run like thunder. At the creek Hale pulled in and looked around.
June's bonnet was down, her hair was tossed, her eyes were
sparkling fearlessly, and her face was flushed with joy.
"Like it, June?"
"I never did know nothing like it."
"You weren't scared?"
"Skeered o' what?" she asked, and Hale wondered if there was
anything of which she would be afraid.
They were entering the Gap now and June's eyes got big with wonder
over the mighty up-shooting peaks and the rushing torrent.
"See that big rock yonder, June?" June craned her neck to follow
with her eyes his outstretched finger.
"Uh, huh."
"Well, that's called Bee Rock, because it's covered with flowers--
purple rhododendrons and laurel--and bears used to go there for
wild honey. They say that once on a time folks around here put
whiskey in the honey and the bears got so drunk that people came
and knocked 'em in the head with clubs."
"Well, what do you think o' that!" said June wonderingly.


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