The mountain was grand in its loneliness; but doubtless was a desolate spot to the settlers, whose cabins were scattered at long distances from each other in the depths of the wood.  I could imagine how cut off from the whole world the women and children in these cabins would feel, for it is natural for human beings to love society.  The perpetual stillness must have been hard to bear when months sometimes passed away, especially in the winter season, without their getting a glimpse of other human faces.

The mountains were full of wildcats too, which made their situation worse, as these fierce animals were frequently known to attack men as savagely as wolves do.  One day while we were there two travelers camped under the tree where our family was roosting.  They had evidently had a hard time making their way through the tangled undergrowth, for as one of the men flung himself down on the ground and stretched himself out at full length, he exclaimed peevishly: 

“Well, I don’t want any more such experiences.  I’m dead tired; my face is all scratched with the thorns and bushes; and I haven’t seen a newspaper for a week.  If the railroad company needs any more work of this kind done, they must get somebody else.”

“Fiddle-dee-dee!  You mustn’t be so easily discouraged,” answered the other young man, who had already set to work scraping up dry chips and pieces of bark to make a fire, “Think of these poor mountaineers who stay here all their lives.  Your little tramp of a few days is nothing to what they do all the time and never think of complaining.  The half of them are too poor to own a mule.  They eat hog and hominy the year around, and are thankful to get it.  Their clothes are fearfully and wonderfully made, but for all that they don’t give up and think life isn’t worth living.”

As the two young fellows talked on in this strain I named them Growler and Cheery, because the one was so determined to look on the dark side, while the other took a cheerful view of everything.  Growler continued to lounge on the ground, looking with careless interest at Cheery, who was preparing dinner.

The dinner was in a small tin box which he took from his coat pocket.  Opening it he disclosed some eatables very compactly put in.  He took out several articles and set them on the ground in front of him.  In the box was a bottle stoutly corked containing a dark liquid, some of which he poured into a flat tin cup which formed a part of the lid of the box.  This he set over the fire, which by this time was snapping cheerily.

“Come,” he said.  “Here’s a lunch fit for a king.  Get up and have your share.  Maybe when your stomach is warmed up with a few ham and mustard sandwiches, some cheese and coffee, you’ll be in better spirits.  These crackers are good eating too.”

“Fit for a king, eh?  Mighty poor kind of a king, I should say,” growled Growler sarcastically; but he rose and flicked the leaves and twigs from his clothing before he helped himself to the coffee which was now hot.