Читать книгу Goose Creek Folks. A Story of the Kentucky Mountains онлайн

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“Lands, no,” said Mrs. Twilliger. “Hold up your head with the best of ’em, Gincy; Goose Creek folks hain’t never took a back seat fer nobody.”

At last the callers melted away and the weary people they left behind hurried to bed to get what sleep they might before time for their early departure.

As the little party started down the slope the next morning, a wonderful light quavered above the mountain-tops for the most part covered with a thick, gorgeous leafage of crimson, green, and gold flaming out among the duller browns. Now and then a rough, scraggy peak like Bear Knob showed grimly against the sky. Below them the mists lay huddled asleep awaiting the coming of the sun. The cool smell of the night was still in the air. Down where the creek path trailed out of sight came a jubilant chorus of bird voices.

A strange feeling made Gincy’s heart beat faster, and a lump rose in her throat. But what might have happened did not, for Talitha, with foresight, reached up and laid a rough, brown hand tenderly over the one on the pommel of the saddle. Gincy looked down into the blue eyes smiling encouragement and was herself again.