THE cave had been their hiding-place as children; it was a secret refuge now against hunger or darkness when they were hunting in the woods. The primitive meal was finished; ashes were raked over the red coals; the slice of bacon and the little bag of meal were hung high against the rock wall; and the two stepped from the cavern into a thicket of rhododendrons. Parting the bushes toward the dim light, they stood on a massive shoulder of the mountain, the river girding it far below, and the afternoon shadows at their feet. Both carried guns-the tall mountaineer, a Winchester; the boy, a squirrel rifle longer than himself. Climbing about the rocky spur, they kept the same level over log and bowlder and through bushy ravine to the north. In half an hour, they ran into a path that led up home from the river,

ONTENTS I. The Blight in the Hills II. On the Wild Dog's Trail III. The Auricular Talent of the Hon.Samuel Budd IV. Close Quarters V. Back to the Hills VI. The Great Day VII. At Last--The Tournament VIII.The Knight Passes THE BLIGHT IN THE HILLS High noon of a crisp October day, sunshine flooding the earth with the warmth and light of old wine and, going single-file up through the jagged gap that the dripping of water has worn down through the Cumberland Mountains from crest to valley-level, a gray horse and two big mules, a man and two young girls. On the gray horse, I led the tortuous way. After me came my small sister--and after her and like her, mule- back, rode the Blight--dressed as she would be for a gallop in Central Park or to ride a hunter in a horse show. I was taking them, according to promise, where the feet of other women than mountaineers had never trod--beyond the crest of the Big Black--to the waters of the Cumberland--the lair of moonshiner and feudsman, where is yet pocketed a civilization that, elsewhere, is long ago gone. This had been a pet dream of the Blight's for a long time, and now the dream was coming true. The Blight was in the hills.