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republished for browzerbooks in the year 2012 ce all rights are reserved this is not public domain

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to the reader lest my readers should feel that certain incidents of this story are startling and improbable i wish to say that every word in it relating to the issues of our national life has been drawn from authentic records in my possession nor have i at any point taken a liberty with an essential detail in historical scenes thomas dixon reader discretion advised if this were a movie on television it would be rated pg-13 or higher for its civil war violence there are no token sex scenes and the use of profanity is restricted and moderated read rights and wrangles at the end of the book for further cautions this novel is a work of fiction it has been produced in the year 2012 ce solely for your entertainment except for those men and women of historical note the main characters have been fabricated entirely from the original author s imaginative speculations then professionally modified by a modern author and design specialist do not assume or repeat that anyone or any event in this novel is historically accurate beyond a surface resemblance that any professor of american history would document from publicly available sources all rights are reserved this is not public domain.

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have you never realized it my friends that lincoln though grafted on the west is essentially in personnel and character a southern contribution walt whitman the supper was over tom lincoln leaned back in his chair and proclaimed nancy it was a meal fit for a king his eyes glowed with deep satisfaction as he smoked his pipe before the cabin fire of blazing logs with quiet satisfaction he admired the wooden dishes he had made and smoothed with his own hands but while nancy cleared the table his eyes narrowed like the eyes of a hare that has seen the shadow of a circling hawk he watched her get the paper the goose-quill pen and ink ­ and the blood drained down from his face as when a prisoner sees the scaffold building for his execution.

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now we re all ready nancy said with brave cheer tom laid his pipe down with a helpless look a brief respite flashed through his mind maybe he could sidestep the lessons before she pinned him down lord nancy i forgot my gun i must grease her right away he cried he rose with a quick decisive movement and took his rifle from the rack she knew it was useless to protest and she strived to keep a smile on her lips as she let him have his way tom lincoln rushed to the mantle over the fire place and plucked down a long rifle over every inch of its heavy barrel and polished walnut stock he rubbed a piece of greased linen with loving care drew back the flint-lock and greased carefully every nook and turn of its mechanism lifted the gun finally to his shoulder and drew an imaginary bead on the head of a turkey gobbler about two hundred yards away a glowing coal of hickory wood in the fire served for his game he lowered the gun at last and held it before him with pride nancy she s the dandiest piece o iron that wuz ever twisted inter the shape of a weepon old speakeasy s her name she s got the softest voice that ever whispered death to a varmint or an injun hit ain t much louder n the crack of a whip but man alive when she talks she says somethin kerpeow she whispers soft an low she s got a soft voice like yourn nancy kinder sighs when she speaks well nancy broke in with a shake of her dark head has mother s little boy played long enough with his toy i reckon so tom laughed but his eyes were hollow then it s time for school she gently took the rifle from his hands placed it on the buck horns and took her seat at the table.

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tom looked ruefully at the stool suddenly straightened his massive frame lifted his hand above his head and cocked his eye inquiringly may i git er drink er water fust nancy laughed in spite of herself yes you big lubber and hurry it up tom seized the water bucket and lurched for the door where are you going she cried in dismay i ll jest run down to the spring fer a fresh bucket o tom she exclaimed i ll be right back in a minute honey he protested softly hit s goin ter be powerful hot in here while i m studying ­ and i ll need a whole bucket uh water time i m through before she could say a word he had slipped out the door he managed to stay gone for nearly a half hour nancy put the baby to sleep and sat waiting with her pensive young eyes gazing at the leaping flames she heard him stop and answer the call of an owl from the woods next a whip-poor-will was softly singing from the bushes nearby he stopped to call him also and then found an excuse to linger ten minutes more just fooling with his dogs the laggard came at last and dropped on his stool by her side he sat for five minutes staring helplessly at the copy she had set big beads of perspiration stood on his forehead when he took the pen he held it awkwardly and timidly as if it were a live reptile she took his clumsy hand in hers and showed him how to hold it his imagination ran to excuses and he poured them out one by one my but yo hand s soft an sweet nancy jest lemme hold that a while she rapped his knuckles trying to smile as she did it all right teacher i ll be good he protested and bent his huge shoulders low over his task he bore down so hard on the frail quill pen the ink ran in a big blot.

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not so hard tom she cried but i got so much strength in my right arm i jist can t hold it back strength can be trained and restrained you must try again softer tom did try again and managed to make a heavy tremulous line his arm moved at a snail s gait and wobbled frightfully make the line quicker and it will be straighter she urged encouragingly begin at the top and come down here you show me how she took his rough hand quietly in hers and guided it swiftly from right to left in straight smooth lines until a dozen were made when he suddenly drew her close kissed her lips and cuddled the slender fingers in a grip of iron she lay still in his embrace for a moment released herself and turned from him with a sigh he drew her quickly to the light of the fire and saw the unshed tears in her eyes what s the use ter worry nancy gal he asked give it up ez a bad job i wouldn t fool with no sech scholar ef i wuz you ye can t teach an old dog new tricks i won t give up she cried with sudden energy i can teach you -and i will i won t give up and let a fine man like you be just a nobody o tom you promised me before we were married to let me teach you didn t you didn t you promise me yes honey i did he paused and his fine white teeth gleamed through the full black beard but ye know a feller ll promise most any thing ter git his gal did you lie to me she broke in sharply didn t you even mean to keep your word of course i did nancy the sweat was popping out in big drops on his forehead again why i never wuz more earnest in my life ­ well ceptin that time when i got religion but honey i had no idee larnin come so hard to a man like me why i d ruther fight injuns an wil cats at the same time or or rob a bee tree widout smoke any day than ter tackle them pot hooks you re sickin after me

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well i won t give up she interrupted impatiently and you d just as well make up your mind that you are going to stick to it you can do what other men have done you re good honest and true you re kindhearted and and you re popular too why they ve already made you the road supervisor of this whole township if you ll just learn to read and write you can make a good speech and go to the legislature ah nancy what do ye want me ter do that fur anyhow gal i d be the happiest man in the world right here in this cabin by the woods ef you d jest be happy with me like i am can t ye please quit hankerin after them things honey she shook her dark head firmly her eyes flashed in the firelight you know nancy we wuz neighbors to dan l boone we thought he wuz about the biggest man that ever lived somehow the love o the woods an fields is always singin in my heart them still shinin stars up in the sky out thar to-night keep a callin me i could hear the music o my hounds in my soul ez i stood by the spring a while ago ye know what scares me most ter death sometimes gal he paused and looked into her eyes intently no what she asked that you ll make a carpenter outen me yit ef i don t mind again a smile broke through the cloud in her eyes i don t think there s much danger of _that tom yes ther is too he laughed ye see i love you so and try ter make ye happy an ef there wuz ter come er time that there wuz plenty o work an real money in it i d stick to it jist ter please you an be a lost an ruined soul yessir they d carve on my headstone jest one line born a man and died a jackleg carpenter wouldn t that be awful

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the momentary smile on the woman s sensitive face faded into a look of pain she tried to make a good-natured reply but her lips refused to move tom pressed on eagerly o nancy why can t ye be happy here we ve a snug little cabin nest we ve enough to eat and enough to wear the baby s laughin at yer heels all day and snugglin in her little bed at night the birds make music fur ye in the trees the creek down thar s laughin an singing winter an summer the world s too purty an life s too short ter throw hit away fightin an scramblin fur nothin no it s for something tom something big don t keer how big tis what of it all turns ter ashes in yer hands bye an bye an yer life s gone we can t live these young days over again can we ye know the preacher says what shall hit profit a man ef he gain the whole world an lose his life let me off n these lessons honey i m too old ye can t larn me new tricks now let me off fer good an all won t ye no was the firm answer it means too much i won t give up and let the man i love sign his name forever with a cross mark i ain t goin ter sign no more papers nohow tom broke in tom i signed our marriage bond with a mark she went on evenly just because you couldn t write your name and i didn t want to shame you you ve got to learn at least that much i won t give up well it s too late to-night fur any more lessons now _ain t it yes it is but we ll make up for it next time tom lincoln was soon sound asleep dreaming of the life that was the breath of his nostrils through the still winter s night nancy lay with wide staring eyes over and over again she weighed her chances in the grim struggle begun for the mastery of his mind the longer she asked herself the question of success or failure the more doubtful seemed the outcome how still the world!

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the new life within her strong young body suddenly stirred and a feeling of awe thrilled her heart god had suddenly signaled from the shores of eternity when tom sprang from bed at dawn he stared at her smiling face in surprise what ye laughin about nancy she turned toward him with a startled look i had a vision tom it was jest a dream i reckon said tom in troubled tones god had answered the prayer of my heart she told him breathlessly and he sent me a son i saw him grow up a strong brave patient wise and gentle man thousands hung on his words and great men came to do him homage with bowed head he led me into a beautiful home that had shining white pillars he bowed low and whispered in my ear this is yours my angel mother i bought it for you with my life all that i am i owe to you she paused a moment and whispered o man tom there s a new song singing in my soul this morning

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nancy rose quietly and went the rounds of her daily work she made her bed to-day in trance-like silence while it was no gilded couch it had been built by the hand of her lover and was sacred it filled the space in one corner of the cabin farthest from the fire a single post of straight cedar securely fixed in the ground held the poles in place which formed the side and foot rail the walls of the cabin formed the other side and head across from the pole were fixed the slender hickory sticks that formed the springy hammock on which the first mattress of moss and grass rested on this was placed a feather bed made from the wild fowl tom had killed during the past two years the pillows were of the finest feathers from the breasts of ducks a single quilt of ample size covered all and over this was thrown a huge counterpane of bear skins two enormous bear rugs almost completely covered the dirt floor and a carpet of oak leaves filled out the spaces with the feather bed beaten smooth the fur covering drawn in place and the pillows set upright against the cabin wall she turned to the two bunks in the opposite corner and carefully re-arranged them they might be used soon this was the corner of her home set aside for guests tom had skillfully built two berths boat fashion one above the other in this corner and a curtain drawn over a smooth wooden rod cut this space off from the rest of the room when occupied at night by visitors the master of this cabin never allowed a stranger to pass without urging him to stop and in a way that took no denial a savory dish of stewed squirrel and corn dumplings served for lunch the baby s face was one glorious smear of joy and grease at its finish the mother took the oaken bucket from its shelf and walked leisurely to the spring whose limpid waters gushed from a rock at the foot of the hill the child toddled after her the little moccasined feet stepping gingerly over the sharp gravel of the rough places before filling the bucket she listened again for the crack of tom s rifle and could hear nothing a death-like stillness brooded over the woods and fields he was probably watching for muskrat under the bluff of the creek he had promised to stay within call to-day.

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the afternoon dragged wearily she tried to read the one book she possessed the bible the pages seemed to fade and her eyes refused to see o man man why don t you come home she cried at last she rose walked to the door looked and listened only the distant rattle of a woodpecker s beak on a dead tree in the woods the snow began to fall in little fitful dabs it was two miles to the nearest cabin and her soul rose in fierce rebellion at her loneliness it was easy for a man who loved the woods the fields and running waters this life but for the woman who must wait and long and eat her heart out alone -she vowed anew that she would not endure it by the sheer pull of her will she would lift this man from his drifting life and make him take his place in the real battle of the world if her new baby were only a boy he could help her and she would win again she stood dreaming of the vision she had seen at dawn her dark young face suddenly went white and her hand gripped the facing of the door she waited half doubting half amused at her fears it was only the twinge of a muscle perhaps she smiled at her sudden panic the thought had scarcely formed before she blanched the second time and the firm lips came together with sudden energy as she glanced at her daughter playing on the rug at her feet there was another sharp pain in her belly and nancy seized the horn that hung beside the door and blew the pioneer s long call of danger its shrill note rang through the woods against the hills in cadences that seemed half muffled by the falling snow again her anxious eyes looked out from the doorway would he never come the trembling slender hand once more lifted the horn a single wild note rang out and broke suddenly into silence the horn fell from her limp grasp and she lifted her eyes to the darkening sky in prayer seconds later tom s voice from the edge of the woods came strong and full hold on honey i m comin there was no question of doctor or nurse the young pioneer mother only asked for her mate for two fearful hours she gripped his rough hands until at last her nails brought the blood but the man didn t know or care every smothered cry that came from her lips began to tear the heart out of his body at last.

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he could hold the long pent agony no longer without words my god nancy what else can i do for ye honey her breath came in gasps and her eyes were shining with a strange intensity nothing tom nothing now i m looking death in the face and i m not afraid please lemme give ye some whiskey he pleaded pressing the wooden cup to her lips no no take it away i hate it my baby shall be clean and strong or else i want to die the decision seemed to brace her spirit for the last test when the trembling feet entered the shadows of the dim valley that lies between life and death the dark slender figure lay still and white at last she heard the sharp cry from lusty lungs and the grey eyes slowly opened with a timid wondering look tom she cried with quick eager tones yes nancy yes a boy of course he s a boy didn t god tell ye so and a genuine buster he is too give him to me ­ quick tom bent over the bed and laid the little red bundle in her arms she pressed him tenderly to her heart felt his breath on her breast and the joyous tears slowly poured down her cheeks.

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iii before the first year of the boy s life had passed the task of teaching his good-natured stubborn father became impossible the best nancy could do was to make him trace his name in sprawling letters that resembled writing and painfully spell his way through the simplest passages in the bible the day she gave up was one of dumb despair she resolved at last to live in her boy all she had hoped and dreamed of life should be his and he would be hers her hands could make him good or bad brave or cowardly noble or ignoble abraham lincoln was a remarkable child physically and grew out of his clothes faster than she could make them it was easy to see from his second year that he would be a man of extraordinary stature both mother and father were above the average height but he would overtop them both if he kept growing when he tumbled over the bear rugs on the cabin floor his father would roar with laughter for the lord s sake nancy look at them legs they re windin blades ef he ever gits grown he won t have ter ax fer a blessin he kin jest reach up an hand it down hisself abe was four years old when he got the first vision of his mother that time should never blot out his father was away on a carpenter job of four days sleeping in the lower bunk in the corner abe waked with a start to hear the chickens cackling loudly his mother was quietly dressing he leaped to his feet shivering in the dark and whispered what is it ma something s after the chickens not a hawk no it s not a hawk nor an owl or fox or weasel or they d squall ­ these chickens are cackling even the rooster something is in there with them but isn t diving at them

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the rooster awked louder than ever and then abe recognized the voice of his speckled hen accompanying the old rooster how weird those soft sounds echoed into the house from the darkness of this still spring night the cold chills ran down his back and abe caught his mother s dress as she reached for the rifle that stood beside her bed you re not goin out there ma abe protested of course i am that s a dirty thief out there trying to steal our horse her voice was low and her hand was without tremor as she grasped his get back in bed i won t be gone but a minute she left the cabin and noiselessly walked toward the low shed in which the horse was stabled abe was at her heels she knew it and rejoiced in the love that made him brave for her sake at the corner of the coop-barn she paused a moment listened and then lifted her tall slim form and advanced steadily her bare feet made no noise the waning moon was shining with soft radiance abe s heart was in his throat as he watched her slender neck and head outlined against the sky never had he seen anything so calm and utterly brave when abe got close enough to smell the heady aroma of chicken manure there was a slight noise from inside the stable a man s voice responded angrily the chickens awked louder five minutes passed and they were silent a shadowy figure appeared at the corner of the stable with the horse tromping close behind it abe s mother raised the rifle and flashed a dagger-like flame into the darkness there was a smothered yelp of pain then the shadow leaped the fence and the beat of swift feet could be heard tearing away into the distance abe clung close to his mother s side and his voice was husky as he spoke ain t you afraid ma the calm answer would ring forever through the halls of his memory you never have time to be afraid when you re doing what s right next morning abe saw the dark blood marks on the trail over which the thief had fled and he looked into his mother s wistful grey eyes with a new reverence and awe.

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iv abe was quick to know and love the birds of hedge and field the martins that built their nests in his gourds on the tall pole had opened his eyes the red and bluebirds the thrush the wren the robin the catbird and song sparrows were his daily companions a mocking-bird came at last to build her nest in a bush beside the garden and her mate began to make the sky ring with his song the puzzle of the feathered tribe whose habits he couldn t fathom was the whip-poor-will his mother seemed to dislike his ominous sound but the soft mournful notes appealed to abe s fancy often at night he sat in the doorway of the cabin watching the gathering shadows and the flicker of the fire when supper was cooking listening to the tireless song within a few feet of the house why don t you like em ma he asked while one was singing with unusually deep and haunting voice so near the cabin that its echo seemed to come from the chimney jamb it was some time before she replied they say it s a sign of death for them to come so close to the house abe laughed surely you don t believe it he looked up into her sombre face with a smile no was the gentle answer but i want to live to see abe a fine strong man she paused stooped and drew him into her arms there was something in her tones that brought a lump into his throat the moon was shining in the full white glory of the southern spring a night of marvelous beauty enfolded the little cabin he looked into her eyes and they were shining with tears what s the matter abe asked tenderly nothing boy i m just dreaming of you the first day of the fall in his sixth year he asked his mother to let him go to the next corn-shucking.

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