"
Zene turned the gray and white, and led on this new march. Hickory
and Henry, backed from the creek without being allowed to dip their
mouths, reluctantly thumped the sled track with their shoes, and
pretended to distrust every tall stump and every glaring sycamore
limb which rose before their sight. Scrubby bushes scraped the bottom
of the carriage bed. Now one front wheel rose high over a chunk, and
the vehicle rolled and creaked. Zene's wagon cover, like a big white
blur, moved steadily in front, and presently Hickory and Henry ran
their noses against it, and seemed to relish the knock which the
carriage-pole gave the feed-box. Zene had halted to listen.
It was dark in the woods. A rustle could be heard now and then as of
some tiny four-footed creature moving the stiff grass; or a twig cracked.
The frogs in the creek were tuning their bass-viols. A tree-toad rattled
on some unseen trunk, and the whole woods heaved its great lungs in the
steady breathing which it never leaves off, but which becomes a roar
and a wheeze in stormy or winter weather.
"There isn't anything"--began Grandma Padgett, but between thing and
"here" came the distinct laugh of a child.
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