The Shepherd of the Hills

Them?

Them as won't let the dead rest!

His uncle, Old Matt,

with his fire-spittin' tongue.

That old she-devil crow, Aunt Mollie.

And Pete, without

no brains and no hope.

All of'em makin' Matt a sick soul,

raisin' him to murder,

to murder his pa

who run off and left him.

And all of'em guilting her,

she who never done no hurt

to no one of God's critters.

She?

His mother.

Coot.

It's Coot Royal.

The baby.

Yeah.

She's needin' some elm bark tea.

Poor young'un can't hardly breathe.

She... She's near dyin'.

I... gonies!

No, you don't, Pappy.

You stay here. You're too gaunted.

I'll go with her.

It's just a trot and gallop

down the trail.

I knowed it.

I knowed it when I heared

the fox bark in the night...

and my voice growed damp

when I prayed.

Sammy.

Get a clean rag and a little stick.

Fix me a swab, Sammy.

She's done it!

She's sent the hex on us!

It's me done it, Granny Lady,

'cause I ain't never been no good.

The sorriest critter on the creek,

with things always

windin' out black for me...

and nothin' to give ya but poke

sallet and no-good hog mollies.

You've given me more than that!

You always call me "lady. "

And I can sit here and rest myself

in a milk-white castle.

It's her in Moanin' Meadow

that walks through the night,

touchin' nothing

but layin' her hand on all.

It's them darn Mathews on the knob.

It's him, the spittin' snake that never

come back to claim his own wood's colt!

It's him!

The stranger, Coot,

he brung her back to us

like a good shepherd.

Your little girl was choked up

and became unconscious.

Just keep her throat clear and keep her wrapped

up warm, and she'll be all right tonight.

By tomorrow, she'll be beggin' to wade the creek

and askin' what makes the sky blue, won't ya?

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