Tennessee had become
their objective point, since here was a region to which they
could fix a name, while the rest of the world was strange to
them. As they passed the turn in the road where Murrell had
caught his first sight of them, Yancy glanced back at the blue
wall of the mountains where it lay along the horizon.
"Well, Nevvy," he said, "we've put a heap of distance between us
and old Scratch Hill; all I can say is, if there's as much the
other side of the Hill as there is this side, the world's a
monstrous big place fo' to ramble about in." He carried his
rifle and a heavy pack. Hannibal had a much smaller pack and his
old sporting rifle, burdens of which his Uncle Bob relieved him
at brief intervals.
For the past ten days their journey had been conducted in a
leisurely fashion. As Yancy said, they were seeing the world,
and it was well to take a good look at it while they had a
chance. He was no longer fearful of pursuit and his temperament
asserted itself--the minimum of activity sufficed. Usually they
camped just where the night overtook them; now and then they
varied this by lodging at some tavern, for since there was money
in his pocket, Yancy was disposed to spend it. He could not
conceive that it had any other possible use.
Suddenly out of the silence carne the regular beat of hoofs.
These grew nearer and nearer, and at last when they were quite
close, Yancy faced about. He instantly recognized Murrell and
dropped his rifle into the crook of his arm.
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