"Any danger of this roost being blown off the mountain?" I inquired.
"Hit's stood hyur twenty year through all the storms; I reckon it can stand one more night of it."
"A man couldn't walk upright, outside the cabin," I asserted, thinking of the St. Louis tornado, in which I had lain flat on my belly, clinging to an iron post.
The hunchback turned to me with a grave face. "I've seed hit blow, here on top o' Smoky, till a hoss couldn't stand up agin it. You'll spy, to-morrow, whar several trees has been wind-throwed and busted to kindlin'."
I recalled that several, in the South, means many--"a good many," as our own tongues phrase it.
"Oh, shucks! Bill Cope," put in "Doc" Jones, "whut do you-uns know about windstorms? Now, _I've_ hed some experiencin' up hyur that 'll do to tell about. You remember the big storm three year ago, come grass, when the cattle all huddled up a-top o' each other and friz in one pile, solid."
"Wal, sir, I was a-herdin', over at the Spencer Place, and was out on Thunderhead when the wind sprung up. Thar come one turrible vyg'rous blow that jest nacherally lifted the ground. I went up in the sky, my coat ripped off, and I went a-sailin' end-over-end."
"Yes. About half an hour later, I lit _spang_ in the mud, way down yander in Tuckaleechee Cove--yes, sir: ten mile as the crow flies, and a mile deeper 'n trout-fish swim."
There was silence for a moment. Then Little John spoke up: "I mind about that time, Doc; but I disremember which buryin'-ground they-all planted ye in."
"Planted! _Me?_ Huh! But I had one tormentin' time findin' my hat!"
The cabin shook under a heavier blast, to match Bill's yarn.
"Old Wind-maker's blowin' liars out o' North Car'lina. Hang on to yer hat, Doc! Whoop! hear 'em a-comin'!"
"Durn this blow, anyhow! No bear 'll cross the mountain sich a night as this."
"Can't we hunt down on the Carolina side?" I asked.
"That's whar we're goin' to drive; but hit's no use if the bear don't come over."
"How is that? Do they sleep in one State and eat in the other?"
"Yes: you see, the Tennessee side of the mountain is powerful steep and laurely, so 't man nor dog cain't git over it in lots o' places; that's whar the bears den. But the mast, sich as acorns and beech and hickory nuts, is mostly on the Car'lina side; that's whar they hafter come to feed. So, when it blows like this, they stay at home and suck their paws till the weather clars."