MINERVA

e here sooner, Jim?” “Well, ’twarn’t no use to ’sturb you, Huck, tell we could do sumfn—but we’s all right now. I ben a-buyin’ pots en pans en vittles, as I got a chanst, en a-patchin’ up de raf’ nights when—” “_What_ raft, Jim?” “Our ole raf’.” “You mean to say our old raft warn’t smashed all to flinders?” “No, she warn’t. She was tore up a good deal—one en’ of her was; but dey warn’t no great harm done, on’y our traps was mos’ all los’. Ef we hadn’ dive’ so deep en swum so fur under water, en de night hadn’ ben so dark, en we warn’t so sk’yerd, en ben sich punkin-heads, as de sayin’ is, we’d a seed de raf’. But it’s jis’ as well we didn’t, ’kase now she’s all fixed up agin mos’ as good as new, en we’s got a new lot o’ stuff, in de place o’ what ’uz los’.” “Why, how did you get hold of the raft again, Jim—did you catch her?” “How I gwyne to ketch her en I out in de woods? No; some er de niggers foun’ her ketched on a snag along heah in de ben’, en dey hid her in a crick ’mongst de willows, en dey wuz so much jawin’ ’bout which un ’um she b’long to de mos’ dat I come to heah ’bout it pooty soon, so I ups en settles de trouble by tellin’ ’um she don’t b’long to none uv um, but to you en me; en I ast ’m if dey gwyne to grab a young white genlman’s propaty, en git a hid’n for it? Den I gin ’m ten cents apiece, en dey ’uz mighty well satisfied, en wisht some mo’ raf’s ’ud come along en make ’m rich agin. Dey’s mighty good to me, dese niggers is, en whatever I wants ’m to do fur me, I doan’ have to ast ’m twice, honey. Dat Jack’s a good nigger, en pooty smart.” “Yes, he is. He ain’t ever told me you was here; told me to come, and he’d show me a lot of water-moccasins. If anything happens _he_ ain’t mixed up in it. He can say he never seen us together, and it’ll be the truth.” I don’t want to talk much about the next day. I reckon I’ll cut it pretty short. I waked up about dawn, and was a-going to turn over and go to sleep again, when I noticed how still it was—didn’t seem to be anybody stirring. That warn’t usual. Next I noticed that Buck was up and gone. Well, I gets up, a-wondering, and goes down stairs—nobody around; everything as still as a mouse. Just the same outside. Thinks I, what does it mean? Down by the wood-pile I comes across my Jack, and says: “What’s it all about?” Says he: “Don’t you know, Mars Jawge?” “No,” says I, “I don’t.” “Well, den, Miss Sophia’s run off! ’deed she has. She run off in de night some time—nobody don’t know jis’ when; run off to get married to dat young Harney Shepherdson, you know—leastways, so dey ’spec. De fambly foun’ it out ’bout half an hour ago—maybe a little mo’—en’ I _tell_ you dey warn’t no time los’. Sich another hurryin’ up guns en hosses _you_ never see! De women folks has gone for to stir up de relations, en ole Mars Saul en de boys tuck dey guns en rode up de river road for to try to ketch dat young man en kill him ’fo’ he kin git acrost de river wid Miss Sophia. I reck’n dey’s gwyne to be mighty rough times.” “Buck went off ’thout waking me up.” “Well, I reck’n he _did!_ Dey warn’t gwyne to mix you up in it. Mars Buck he loaded up his gun en ’lowed he’s gwyne to fetch home a Shepherdson or bust. Well, dey’ll be plenty un ’m dah, I reck’n, en you bet you he’ll fetch one ef he gits a chanst.” I took up the river road as hard as I could put. By-and-by I begin to hear guns a good ways off. When I come in