So the big-hearted mill
hands paid him good money for doing many odd jobs, the most important of
which was to keep a lantern lighted every dark night, both summer and
winter, to warn them of the danger spot in the Wildcat river, that raced
in its treacherous course between the mill and their shanty homes on the
opposite shore.
This danger spot was a perfect snarl of jagged rocks, just below the
surface of the black waters that eddied about in tiny whirlpools, deadly
to any canoe in summer, and still more deadly in winter, for the ice
never formed here as in the rest of the river. Only a thin, deceptive
coating ever bridged that death hole, and the man who mistook it for
solid ice would never live to cross that river again. So, on the high
bank above this death trap old Andy lighted his lantern, year in and
year out. Sometimes he was accompanied by his old grey horse, who
followed him about like a dog. Sometimes little Jacky Moran, his young
neighbor, went to help him on very stormy or windy nights. Sometimes
both Jacky and the horse would go, and as a reward for his assistance
old Andy would always lift the boy to the grey's back and let him ride
home.
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