hauling water," said Lou. She patted her pocket. "And because I've got twenty dollars I
brought with me from New York that's burning a hole in my pocket," she added, staring
at him.
This gigantic sum staggered Diamond, yet even he seemed to understand the possibilities.
'Too fer to walk," he said, fingering the coal lump, as though trying to hurry the diamond
into hatching.
"Then we don't walk," replied Lou.
He glanced at her. "Tremont right closer."
"No, Dickens. I want to go to Dickens."
Oz said, "We could take a taxi."
"If we get to the bridge at McKenzie's," Lou ventured, "then maybe we can hitch a ride to
Dickens with somebody. How far is the bridge on foot?"
Diamond considered this. "Well, by road it a good four hour. Time git down there, got to
come back. And that be a tiring way to spend a day off from farming."
"What way is there other than the road?"
"You really want'a get on down there?" he said.
Lou took a deep breath. "I really want to, Diamond."
"Well, then, we going. I knowed me a shortcut. Shoot, get us there quick as a sneeze."
Since the mountains had been formed, water had continued eroding the soft limestone,
carving thousand-foot-deep gullies between the harder rocks. The line of finger ridges
marched next to the three of them as they walked along. The ravine they finally came to
was wide and seemed impassable until Diamond led them over to the tree. The yellow
poplars here grew to immense proportion, gauged by a caliper measured in feet instead of
inches. Many were thicker than a man was tall, and rose up to a hundred and fifty feet in
height. Fifteen thousand board feet of lumber could be gotten from a single poplar. A
healthy specimen lay across this gap, forming a bridge.
"Going 'cross here cuts the trip way down," Diamond said.
Oz looked over the edge, saw nothing but rock and water at the end of a long fall, and
backed away like a spooked cow. Even Lou looked uncertain. But Diamond walked right
up to the log.
"Ain't no problem. Thick and wide. Shoot, walk 'cross with your eyes closed. Come on
now."
He made his way across, never once looking down. Jeb scooted easily after him.
Diamond reached safe ground and looked back. "Come on now," he said again.
Lou put one foot up on the poplar but didn't take another step.
Diamond called out from across the chasm. "Just don't look down. Easy."
Lou turned to her brother. "You stay here, Oz. Let me make sure it's okay." Lou clenched
her fists, stepped onto the log, and started across. She kept her eyes leveled on nothing
but Diamond and soon joined him on the other side. They looked back at Oz. He made no
move toward the log, his gaze fixed on the dirt.
"You go on ahead, Diamond. I'll go back with him."
"No, we ain't gonna do that. You said you want'a go to town? Well, dang it, we going to
town."
"I'm not going without Oz."
"Ain't got to."
Diamond jogged back across the poplar bridge after telling Jeb to stay put. He got Oz to
climb on his back and Lou watched in admiration as Diamond carried him across.
"You sure are strong, Diamond," said Oz as he gingerly slid down to the ground with a
relieved breath.
"Shoot, that ain't nuthin'. Bear chased me 'cross that tree one time and I had Jeb and a
sack of flour on my back. And it were nighttime too. And the rain was pouring so hard
God must've been bawling 'bout somethin'. Couldn't see a durn thing. Why, I almost fell
twice."
"Well, good Lord," said Oz.
Lou hid her smile well. "What happened to the bear?" she asked in seemingly honest
excitement.
"Missed me and landed in the water, and that durn thing never bothered me no mo'."
"Let's go to town, Diamond," she said, pulling on his arm, "before that bear comes back."
They crossed one more bridge of sorts, a swinging one made from rope and cedar slats
with holes bored in them so the hemp could be pulled through and then knotted. Diamond
told them that pirates, colonial settlers, and later on, Confederate refugees had made the
old bridge and added to it at various points in time. And Diamond said he knew where
they were all buried, but had been sworn to secrecy by a person he wouldn't name.
They made their way down slopes so steep they had to hang on to trees, vines, and each
other to stop from tumbling down head-first. Lou stopped every once in a while to gaze
out as she clutched a sapling for support. It was something to stand on steep ground and
look out at land of even greater angles. When the land became flatter and Oz grew tired,
Lou and Diamond took turns carrying him.