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Watch the trail of the lonesome pine
Watch the trail of the lonesome pine











watch the trail of the lonesome pine

There was the way at her feet-that path that coiled under the cliff and ran down loop by loop through majestic oak and poplar and masses of rhododendron.

watch the trail of the lonesome pine

With the thought, she rose slowly to her feet, moved slowly to the cliff that dropped sheer ten feet aside from the trail, and stood there like a great scarlet flower in still air. Beyond those white mists trailing up the hills, beyond the blue smoke drifting in the valley, those limitless blue waves must run under the sun on and on to the end of the world! Her dead sister had gone into that far silence and had brought back wonderful stories of that outer world: and she began to wonder more than ever before whether she would ever go into it and see for herself what was there. It was a big world, though, that was spread before her and a vague awe of it seized her straightway and held her motionless and dreaming. So, she lay back and rested-her little mouth tightening fiercely. She had no business there now, and, if she were found out when she got back, she would get a scolding and maybe something worse from her step-mother-and all that trouble and risk for nothing but smoke. Where was the great glare of yellow light that the circuit rider had told about-and the leaping tongues of fire? Where was the shrieking monster that ran without horses like the wind and tossed back rolling black plumes all streaked with fire? For many days now she had heard stories of the furriners who had come into those hills and were doing strange things down there, and so at last she had climbed up through the dewy morning from the cove on the other side to see the wonders for herself. Beyond them was a gap in the next mountain chain and down in the little valley, just visible through it, were trailing blue mists as well, and she knew that they were smoke. The mountains ran in limitless blue waves towards the mounting sun-but at birth her eyes had opened on them as on the white mists trailing up the steeps below her. There were tiny drops along the roots of her shining hair, for the climb had been steep, and now the shadow of disappointment darkened her eyes. Her breath was still coming fast between her parted lips. She sat at the base of the big tree-her little sunbonnet pushed back, her arms locked about her knees, her bare feet gathered under her crimson gown and her deep eyes fixed on the smoke in the valley below.













Watch the trail of the lonesome pine