"Jim," said Shif'less Sol to Long Jim, "there's a spring 'bout twenty
miles north o' Wareville that you an' me hev sat by many a time. Thar are
hundreds a' springs through that country, yes, thousands o' 'em, but this
one is the finest o' 'em all. It comes right out o' the side o' a rock
hill, a stream so pure that you kin see right through it same ez ef it
wuzn't thar, then it falls into a most bee-yu-ti-ful rock pool scooped out
by Natur, an' ez the pool overflows, it runs away through the grass an'
the woods in a stream 'bout two feet wide an' four inches deep. I think
that's 'bout the nicest, coldest, an' most life-givin' water in all
Kentucky. You an' me, Jim, hev gone thar many a time, hot an' tired from
the hunt, an' hev felt ez ef we had landed right on the steps o' Heaven
itself. An' the game, Jim! The game, big an' little, knowed 'bout that
spring, too. Remember that tre-men-je-ous big elk you an' me killed 'bout
two hundred yards north o' the spring. He stood most ez high ez a horse.
An' remember, Jim, when we climbed up on top o' the hill out o' which the
spring runs, we could see a long distance every way, north, south, east
an' west, over the most bee-yu-ti-ful country, an' we could go whar we
pleased.
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