Stringtown on the Pike

A Novel by John Uri Lloyd

Chapter Fifteen

STRINGTOWN JAIL

Into Stringtown County Seat from the flat Creek road the three horsemen rode leisurely towards the county jail. As they passed, a boy swinging on a grapevine that dangled from a hackberry tree near the first house by the roadside gave a yell that carried with it the information that only a country boy can put into a wordless cry. Immediately from the house a number of faces peered, some black, others white, and yet, aside from the cry of the boy, no other voice was heard. Scampering from his place, he ran after the passing horsemen, following their footsteps in the dust; the yell of the boy was repeated as house after house was neared, and a flash of faces could be seen in the windows; an occasional female form, perhaps with broom in hand as an excuse for outdoor appearance, stood motionless on the front porch; a gathering of boys thronged about the heels of the horsemen, and old Cupe, well known to every person of that village, became the centre of attraction.

Time and again had he ridden on horseback into that village unnoticed; but now, he was stared at by men and women, followed by hooting boys and preceded by snarling dogs, for each boy owned a dog, which, as his young master fell into line, sprang from cover and joined the four-footed advance-guard. Thus Cupe, with his snow-white beard, his bleached woolly pate, his shiny, wrinkled face, his garments of patches of many colours, was ushered to the jail of Stringtown County. The troop of snapping dogs, that included in its membership every species, from a short, bench-legged fice to one gaunt coon hound, moved in front; on either side of the prisoner rode an officer of the law, while behind came the troop of urchins, black and white. The advance-guard needed no director; on they went to the blind street that led to the county-jail; into this the troop of dogs turned, and simultaneously arranged themselves about the entrance to the jail. Too well did they, dumb brutes as they were, know the ending of the journey of these horsemen. Then, amid the clustering of boys and dogs, the three horsemen dismounted and pressed their way through the gaping crowd. A heavy knocking at the door brought the ?Innkeeper,? who signed a paper handed him by the sheriff; the form of the black man vanished within the gloomy structure; the two officers remounted, and, leading the riderless horse, turned back toward the world without; the boys and dogs scampered after them, and the back street was vacated by every creature?with one exception. The great, gaunt, old coon hound, with lank sides, made no movement when the others departed; he stood with drooping ears and uplifted nose silently facing the door by which the negro had entered. His nostrils sniffed the air, his ungainly tail slowly wagged back and forth, his long, red tongue lolled from between two ivory incisors, and from its tip an occasional drop of spittle fell upon the earth. Motionless he stood with eyes set upon the grim door; and then, closing them, he pointed his nose straight upward, and from his throat a long, plaintive howl arose that, beginning low and weird, reached to a height seldom heard from hound?s throat, and then, descending, died away in plaintive sadness. Again the dog howled and listened; and not hearing a reply, again, louder than before, he bayed the silent door. This last appeal seemed to bring an answer, but one that human ear could not have caught. Turning from his place, the animal crossed the narrow street and carefully selected a bed of thick dog-fennel beneath a clump of wild black-currant bushed, turned ?three times ?round,? sinking each time lower than before, and then dropped upon the earth and curled himself into a heap, where with eyes closed, his sentinel nose pointing toward the new home of his old master, he lay motionless.

The jailer conducted Cupe to the second story of the jail and halted before one of the back cells.

?Ef et am pert?nent t? de yocasion,? said Cupe, ?befo? yo? go t? de trouble ob openin? de doaoh, de pris?nah ud ax a question.?

?Certainly,? said the jailer.

?Fo? some fo?ks dis heah room am all dat kin be ?spected, but fo? me, ef et am de same t? yo, a front room am moah t? de taste.?

The jailer thrust his key into the lock.

?Yo? know bery well dat Cupe am not gwine t? make yo? no trouble, an? he doan ax no?? the negro stopped, put his hand to his ear, as if listening to a sound unheard by the jailer?it was the mournful howl of his old hound?then gave a sharp, penetrating whistle, and continued his sentence??lux?ry. Ef de front room am empty, et won?t cost yo? nuffin? moah t? open an? lock dat doah instead ob dis heah doah. A doah am a doah t? de man what opens it, but dah am reasons t? de man what rests in de room fo? wantin? t? be behind one doah instead ob ?nuddah.?

?Well, I don?t see what ?s the use of growling at this room,? said the jailer.

?De fac? am, Ma?se Kindum,? said the negro, quick to observe that in getting a reply he had gained a point, ?dat Cupe am not growlin? at de room, but at de place de room sits in. Ef de sunshine an? de moonlight could come into de room yo? hab s?lected fo? Cupe, dah would n?t be no sort ob argyment. But Cupe hab seen de sunshine an? de moonlight all ob his life, an? he doan know jes how long a spell he?ll be heah. Yo? hab knowed Uncle Cupe sense yo? wah a chile, Ma?se Kindum; yoah chilluns know him too, an? doan knows no hahm ob him needah.?

The jailer withdrew the key, led Cupe to the front of the building and opened one of the two front rooms.

With tattered hat in hand the negro bowed and courtesied as only one of the old black uncles of Kentucky could do, but his profuse thanks were largely lost upon the jailer, who without a word turned and departed.

Stepping to the barred window, Cupe remarked: ?De sunshine an? de moonlight am monstrous thin when dese head windahs am considahd, an? et am cut inter slices by de iron bars, but Cupe hain?t done nuffin? t? make him afeard ob light what shine cleah in de sky er froo cross bars eider. ?Sides, he wan? t? talk t? his fren? ? and pressing his sable face against the bars old Cupe gazed intently up and down the street. ?Et am monstrous strange,? he murmured, ?ef Dgawge Wash?n?t?n hab gone back on Cupe.? Presently his aged eyes caught sight of a weed in the opposite fence corner that, as his voice sounded, began to vibrate as if uniform blows were being struck upon it, and peering at the clump of dog-fennel at its base he made out the curled-up form of his faithful dog, who, with beating tail, raised nose and open eyes, was staring at the face of his master. ?Yo? am only a dawg,? said Cupe, ?but yo? may hab work t? do, Dgawge Wash?n?t?n, befo? yoah teef git dull; put yoah head down an? stop yoah tail, and keep yoah strength ready fo? de time ob need.?


Typed by Sharon Franklin, M. L. S., Boone County Public Library; Manager, Walton Branch

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