The washing away of a bridge ten miles
farther down the valley had put an end to all thought of progress by
rail, for the night, at least. Rigid necessity compelled them to
proceed in the face of the direst hardships. Their mission was one
which could not be stayed so long as they possessed legs and stout
hearts. Checked by the misfortune at the bridge, there was nothing
left for them but to make the best of the situation: they set forth on
foot across the mountain, following the short but more arduous route
from the lower to the upper valley. Since three o'clock in the
afternoon they had been struggling along their way, at times by narrow
wagon roads, not infrequently by trails and foot paths that made for
economy in distance.
The tall man strode onward with never decreasing strength and
confidence; his companions, on the contrary, were faint and sore and
scowling. They were not to the mountains born; they came from the
gentle lowlands by the sea,--from broad plantations and pleasant
byways, from the tidewater country. He was the leader on this ugly
night, and yet they were the masters; they followed, but he led at
their bidding.
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