About midmorning we came to low, red hills and pine trees and pin
oaks that I'd passed before. Then we could see a fork in the
road, where another road branched off. The new road looked a good
bit like the way to go if you want to cross Rocky Head Bridge,
but I couldn't be sure.
"Baby, you know this stretch through here?"
"No, sir. I just know the trees."
"That's good!"
There was a lot of mist everywhere. Fog, Uncle Hiram said.
Miss Mattie took off her shawl and tied it around my head.
"No use a-lettin' you take your death of cold, sugar!"
Before we got to the corner where the two roads came together
we saw a bunch of men on horseback galloping toward us. But they
didn't see us, and as they came to the split in the road, they
turned their horses to go the other way. We were real close to
them. Still, they didn't look toward our wagon!
"It's Papa! Uncle Hiram, yonder's Papa! He's that'n on Jake!
In front! Papa, stop!"
"Thank the Lord!" Miss Mattie squeezed me.
Uncle Hiram stood up, yelling.
"Hey! Hey, there! Hey!"
The horses kept loping up the other road.
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