Part 6 (1/2)

CHAPTER V

GOOD-BYE TO ARKANSAW

”Oh, the wind blows cold and the wind blows raw, When the night comes on in the Arkansaw-- Yes, the wind blows cold and the snow will fall.

And Bosephus and Horatio must travel through it all.”

THE little boy's voice quavered as he sang, and his teeth chattered. It had been more than two months since he started on his travels with Horatio, and the October nights, even in southern Arkansaw, were beginning to be chilly. The night before he had in some way got separated from his friend's warm furry coat and woke s.h.i.+vering. He kindled a fire now, singing as he worked, while Horatio touched the chords of his violin pensively. He did not feel the cold. Nature was providing him with his winter furs.

”Bo,” he said presently, ”you'll have to have some heavier clothes.

Either that or we'll have to go farther South. As for me, you know, I could go to sleep in a hollow tree and not mind the winter, but you couldn't do it, and I don't intend to, either, this year; we're making too much money for that.”

Bo laughed in spite of the cold and jingled his pockets. They were more than half full of coin, and he had a good roll of bills in his jacket besides.

”No,” he said; ”we are getting along too well. We'll be rich by spring if we keep right on. I'm thinking, though, that we'll never be able to get South fast enough if we walk.”

”Look here, Bo; you're not thinking about putting me on that cyclone thing they call a train, are you?”

”Well, not exactly, but yesterday where we performed I heard a fellow say that there was a river right close here, and steamboats. You wouldn't mind a steamboat, would you, Ratio?”

”Of course not. I don't mind anything. I've always wanted to ride on one of those trains, only I knew the people would be frightened at me, and as for a steamboat, why, if I should meet a steamboat coming down the road--”

”But steamboats don't come down the roads, Ratio; they go on the water.”

”Water! Water that you drink, and drown things in?”

”Of course! And if the boat goes down we'll be drowned, too.”

Horatio struck a few notes on the violin before replying.

”Bo,” he said presently, ”you're a friend of mine, aren't you? A true friend?”

”Yes, Ratio, you know I am.”

”Well, then, don't you go on one of those boats. It would grieve me terribly if anything should happen to you. I might not be able to save you, Bo, and then think how lonely I should be.” And Horatio put one paw to his eyes and sobbed.

”Oh, pshaw, Ratio! Why, I can swim like everything. I'm not afraid.”

”But you couldn't save us both, Bo--I mean, we both couldn't save the fiddle--it would get wet. Think--think of the fiddle, Bo!”

The fire was burning brightly by this time and the little boy was getting warm. He laughed and rubbed his hands and began to sing:--

”Oh, we're going down the river on a great big boat, And Horatio's so excited he can hardly play a note, For he never liked the water and he never learned to swim, And he thinks if he goes sailing now his chances will be slim.”

Horatio stopped short and snorted angrily.

”I want you to understand,” he said, sharply, ”that I'm not afraid of anything. You'll please remember that night when the forest people danced and you thought your time had come, how I saved you by making you sing. There's nothing I fear. Why if--”

But what Horatio was about to say will never be known, for at that moment there came such a frightful noise as neither of them had ever heard before. It came from everywhere at once, and seemed to fill all the sky and set the earth to trembling. It was followed by two or three fierce snorts and a dazzling gleam of light through the trees. The little boy was startled, and as for the Bear, he gave one wild look and fled. In his fright he did not notice a small shrub, and, tripping over it, he fell headlong into a clump of briars, where he lay, groaning dismally that he was killed and that the world was coming to an end.