>S 3507 
 .fi712 
 
 05 
 
 1920 
 Copy 1 
 
 
 VAGABOND PLAYS—No. 2 
 
 )N VENGEANCE 
 HEIGHT 
 
 A Play in One Act 
 By Allan Davis and Cornelia C. Vencill 
 
 Baltimore 
 
 The Norman, Remington Company 
 
 1920 
 
ON VENGEANCE 
 HEIGHT 
 
 A Play in One Act 
 
 \ 
 
 BY 
 ALLAN DAVIS and CORNELIA C. VENCILL 
 
 The Norman, Remington Company 
 
 Baltimore 
 
 1920 
 
$"1 c 
 
 
 K^ ^'^ ^ 
 
 Copyright, 1914, 1920 
 By ALLAN DAVIS 
 
 All Rights Reserved 
 
 Application for the acting rights 
 of this play should be made to Allan 
 Davis in care of the publishers. 
 
 ate 28 1920 
 
 'Gi.D 5 6H6 3 
 
TO 
 
 M. D. D. 
 
This play was first produced by 
 the Vagabond Players in Baltimore, 
 Maryland, on February 2, 1920. 
 
First Produced at the Vagabond Theatre Feb. 
 2, 1920, WITH THE Following 
 
 Cast of Characters 
 
 Cheridah Gormley Edmonia Nolley 
 
 Hope Somia Whitman 
 
 Lem Carmalt Clapham Murray, Jr. 
 
 Clay Patrick Riley 
 
 Produced by Mrs. John E. Boisseau 
 Setting by Edward Berge 
 
 scene: a cabin in the Tennessee Mountains, 
 Thirty years ago. 
 October. Evening. 
 
 Note on the dialogue: 
 The mountaineers often use several forms of the 
 same word interchangeably. 
 
ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 
 
 {Right and Left are from the point of view of 
 the actor) 
 
 Scene: The cabin of the Gormleys in the Ten- 
 nessee mountains. Everything primitive. 
 
 The heavy door is in the centre of the rear wall, 
 and to the right and left of it are small windows. 
 In the right wall, towards the front, an open fire- 
 place with crane, kettle, and other implements. On 
 the left, a rude framework supporting a pallet cov- 
 ered with dark gray blankets and a bear robe. At 
 the further end of this bed, ladder-like steps rising 
 from the floor to a trap-door in the low ceiling, lead- 
 ing to the loft. 
 
 A log settle stands out in the cabin at the upper 
 end of the fireplace. In front of the fireplace, a 
 spinning-wheel and chair. A rough pine table and 
 two chairs, made of scantling, at the centre. A 
 single shelf in the centre of the room hung from 
 the low, unhewn beam which run^ from left to right 
 across the room. A rifle over the chimney piece; 
 pelts. Brushwood, kindling, and logs. 
 
 It is mid-October. Evening. A fire under the 
 kettle. 
 
 As the curtain rises, it discloses Cheridah 
 GORMLEY (Gram) spinning. She is past sixty and 
 blind, but vigorous with the wiry strength of the 
 mountain people. The door, which swings inward 
 to the left, is open. Through it, a last crimson ray 
 of the setting sun falls upon the woman, showing 
 
 7 
 
8 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 
 
 her face as that of one whose elemental nature has 
 become softened and spiritualized by loneliness and 
 grief. 
 
 The ray fades, disappears. Twilight upon the 
 mountains. 
 
 The woman spins, and hums. As the twilight 
 deepens, she sings the words of the hymn. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 "0 Thou fr*m Whom all goodness flows, 
 
 I lif my soul ter thee; 
 In all my sorrers, conflicts, woes, 
 Dear Lord, remember me." 
 {She stops abruptly and listens. Then, before 
 anybody appears — challengingly) 
 Who's thar? Who's thar, I say? 
 (Brightly) 
 That yo', Hope? 
 (Bustling, as she rises) 
 Come in, child, come in. 
 
 HOPE TAVENDER 
 
 (Entering with a basket — a young mountain 
 woman, barefoot and in homespun) 
 
 Seems like yo' could hear a robin a-hoppin' on 
 th' sof grass, th' way yo' know who's a-comin', 
 Gram. Seems like yo' could mos' see. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Pleased) 
 
 W'en th' Lord takes one thing, he gives anuther. 
 My hearin' gits better'n' better. 
 
 (As she feels her way to the center) 
 Whar air ye, child? 
 
ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 9 
 
 HOPE 
 
 (Putting her basket upon the table) 
 Hyar. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Taking her hands — motherly) 
 
 Light th' lantern, an' set down. Yo' mus' be 
 ti-erd. 
 
 (Sitting right of table as Hope goes to the fire- 
 place with the lantern) 
 
 Yo're the workingest gal in these hyar hills, 
 Hope. An* yo' mus'n't come way over hyar so of en 
 jes' fur me. 
 
 HOPE 
 
 (As she lights the lantern with a sliver of kin- 
 dling) 
 
 Wen my pore mammy war a-dyin', didn' yo' come 
 way down four cabin in all weathers nights, f keer 
 fer her? My pap he don't fergit hit even ef he is 
 old and cain't come hisself. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (As Hope rises and crosses back of her to the 
 head of the table. 
 
 Yo'r mammy war my neighbor. Hit pleasured 
 me. 
 
 HOPE 
 
 (Almost sharply) 
 
 Wall, yo're my neighbor, and hit pleasures me 
 now. 
 
 (In a milder tone) 
 
 fve fotched yo' some shortened bread I jes' 
 baked, an' some quinces fur jelly. They's all peeled 
 an' ready. An' hyar's some chinquapins and paw- 
 paws. They's jes' right now. 
 
10 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Gratefully) 
 
 Yo' do more'n ketch my chickens an' do my chores 
 an' fotch me corn pone an' quinces an' chinquapins 
 an' paw-paws, Hope. Yo' fotch me yer'self w'en 
 hit's lonely, an' yer voice wen hit's a-quiet. . . . 
 The days air long an' always — black. I set a-list- 
 enin' fur th' owls ter hoot so's I'll know w'en night 
 comes. 
 
 (With a change) 
 
 I dunno whut I'd a done without ye, sence Clay 
 done went away t'larn. 
 
 HOPE 
 
 Hit won't be so lonesome fer yo' w'en he comes 
 back. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (With hurried evasion) 
 
 Oh, I hain't in no hurry fur Clay t' come back. 
 No hurry 't all. 
 
 HOPE 
 
 (Thoughtfully) 
 
 He mus' be purty near ter growed up now. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Anxiously) 
 
 Growed up? W'y he's jes' a child. 
 
 HOPE 
 
 He's sixteen. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Whut's sixteen? 'Tain't nuthin' but a boy, that's 
 what he is — nuthin' but a little boy. 
 
ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 11 
 
 HOPE 
 
 Been gone six years, hain't he? 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Uneasily) 
 
 Yas — sence his father war shot. 
 
 HOPE 
 
 The men at the Gap war a-sayin' 
 
 (Catches herself up) 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Quickly, but with difficulty) 
 Whut war they a-sayin'? 
 
 HOPE 
 
 Oh, nuthin' 
 
 (Attempting to change the subject) 
 
 Is thar ennything I kin do hyar fur yo'. Gram, 
 afore I go? 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Yo' hain't good at keepin' things back, Hope. 
 Whut war th' men down ter the Gap a-sayin'? 
 
 HOPE 
 
 (Sullenly) 
 Nothin'. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Sharply — with authority) 
 Whut war they a-sayin', I axed? 
 (Pause — strongly ) 
 I'm a-waitin' fer ter hear. 
 
 HOPE 
 
 Well, they sez ez how you're a-keepin' Clay from 
 comin' back. 
 
12 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Glibly) 
 
 0' course Fm a-keepin' him fr'm comin' back. 
 Everybody knows that. I want him ter git some 
 larnin' afore he's growed up an' too old. 
 
 HOPE 
 
 (Slowly) 
 
 They sez hit's 'cause you're scairt. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Springing to her feet aroused) 
 
 Who sez that? Scairt? 
 
 (Walking up and down wrathfully) 
 
 Me, Cheridah Gormley, scairt? Ev'fybody in 
 these hyar mountains knows how scairt I am. 
 
 (With proud laughter) 
 
 Scairt am I? Scairt! — w'en I killed Bryce Car- 
 malt with my own hands. 
 
 (With a change) 
 
 Gowd fergive me my wicked pride. Gowd fer- 
 give me my sins. 
 
 (With a cry) 
 
 Hope — air you thar? 
 
 HOPE 
 
 Yas. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Kem hyar. 
 
 (Hope goes to her — the older woman clings to 
 her) 
 
 Hope, I am scairt. I hain't never tole nobody 
 before, but it's Gowd's truth an' it's always with 
 me — a-watchin' me. 
 
ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT V6 
 
 (Tremblingly) 
 
 I'm scairt — Fm scairt. 
 
 HOPE 
 
 (Soothing her) 
 
 I know how yo're feelin'. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Swaying herself backward and forward — in a 
 dead voice) 
 
 No, yo' don' know. Nobody cud know less she'd 
 been thro' it — nobody. 
 
 (Pause) 
 
 Is it dark yet outside, Hope? 
 
 HOPE 
 
 Thar's a little light. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Go t' the winder an' look out — t' th' left. 
 
 (Hope does so) 
 
 Thar's Vengeance Height . . . ? 
 
 PIOPE 
 
 Yas. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Y' see somethin' 'ginst the sky? 
 
 HOPE 
 
 (Suspecting what's coming) 
 0' course. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Some boulders 'bout's high's a man? 
 
14 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 
 
 HOPE 
 
 (Sympathetically) 
 
 Yas. But don't make me count 'em agen. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Count 'em. 
 
 HOPE 
 (Umvillinghj) 
 I know how many thar air, Gram. 
 
 GRAM 
 {Firmly) 
 Count 'em. 
 
 HOPE 
 Well, jest because ye want me to. . . . Startin' 
 fr'm th' fur side — thar's one 
 
 GRAM 
 
 {At the center, interrupting, her sightless eyes 
 gazing before her) 
 
 Thar's whar my man Zeke's buried. 'Twar 
 twenty year back. Er old sow of ourn had done 
 strayed away through a hole in the pen, an' the 
 Carmalts they claimed hit. The Carmalts — how I 
 disgust that name! — Zeke went over t' see 'em 
 'bout it — friendly like. One thing led to 'nuther — 
 thar war high words — an' old Jim Carmalt— he 
 shot Zeke — he shot him fr'm behin', without warnin' 
 an' without a-givin' him a chance. . . . My Zeke — 
 my man Zeke. . . . 
 
 {Living through it again) 
 
 I 'member w'en they fotched him thro' that door, 
 an' I turned down the kiver of that thar bed fer 
 him, an' they laid him on it, an' I tuk th' lint rags 
 
ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 15 
 
 f'm this shelf an wropped him, and watched him an' 
 watched. But the mornin' o' th' next day, when 
 it was a-gittin' gray thro' the winders' an' the 
 mockin' birds was a-whistlin' an' th' cuckoos 
 a-callin' an' the peckerwoods a-tappin', an' eve'y- 
 thing was beginnin' agin outside — he died. 
 (With grim but shaking interrogation) 
 Thar's anuther boulder beside that one, hain't 
 thar? 
 
 HOPE 
 
 Y-a-s. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 That's Jeff — my fust born. He killed Jim Car- 
 malt as kilt his pap ; an' then Bryce Carmalt killed 
 him. 
 
 (Pause — intensely) 
 
 Go on a-countin' 
 
 HOPE 
 
 (With difficulty) 
 Three-four — — 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Them's my boys Steve and Tolliver. They war 
 a-swimmin' one evenin' in Black Pool, an' Lem 
 Carmalt, he shot 'em both, an' they died — in th' 
 water 
 
 (Hope turns away with a shudder) 
 
 (Pressing her) 
 
 Why hain't yo' countin'? 
 
 > 
 
 HOPE 
 I — I — cain't. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Yo' cain't count 'em, but I buried 'em, an' I kin 
 
16 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 
 
 count 'em. . . . Th' nex' is five. . . . That war my 
 boy Tom. He accounted fur two o' th' Carmalts 
 afore they got him. . . . An' when he w^ar a-dyin', 
 I tole him he done well, an' he went out a-smilin'. 
 
 (Pause — less strongly) 
 
 An' the nex' is six . . . my boy Cliff — Clay's 
 pappy. A mammy loves all her boys, but I reckon 
 I loved Cliff mos' — he hed curly chestnut hair an' 
 war allers bright an' smilin' an' — oh he war jes' — 
 Cliff. ... He war a-takin' me ter th' Gap. Hit 
 war 'bout this time o' year. The milkweed pods 
 war a bustin' an' thar war asters, an' barberry 
 bresh red's a flannel shirt in th' woods, an' a power 
 o' golden-rods a shinin' clean an' yaller. How 
 good I cud see in them days — how good I cud 
 see! ... I wuz on hoss-back behin' Cliff, an' he 
 war a-singin'. Then sudden a turkey-buzzar' riz 
 up a-tween the boss's hoofs — an afore I cud even 
 think how bad a sign it wuz, Lem Carmalt an' two 
 more of 'em done fired at us. . . . Cliff got one of 
 them — an' then — they shot Cliff — an' w'en I see him 
 layin' theer so still, I tuk his Win-chester an' shot 
 Bryce Carmalt 
 
 {Pause — slowly) 
 
 An' then Lem Carmalt he fired at me — an'— I lost 
 my eyes. 
 
 {Simply — as if summing it all up) 
 
 An' thar war six boulders on Vengeance Height, 
 in our plot, an' five in th' Carmalt's plot — an' me. 
 
 {With a change) 
 
 That's why w'en th' circuit rider asked me t' give 
 him Clay t' take to school w'en he war ten year old, 
 I let him go. That's why I've kep' him away these 
 six years — t' keep him safe. . . . 
 
ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 17 
 
 CWith an outcry of stifled grief and loneliness) 
 D' you reckon I relish my little grandson t' be 
 away? D' you reckon I relish t' live hyar all alone, 
 blin' an' helpless? But Fm gittin' old. I cain't 
 stand things ez I could . . . Clay's all I got, and 
 I'm scairt fur him — scairt o' that rattlesnake Lem 
 Carmalt as killed my boys Steve an' Tolliver an' 
 Cliff an' tuk away my sight — I'm scairt . . . I'm 
 scairt. . . . 
 
 HOPE 
 
 (With mountain philosophy) 
 
 Clay's a man. He'll hev t' take up the war. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Yo're young an' yo're hard. Whut d' you know 
 'bout a war that yo' kin talk so easy? Yo hain't 
 hed twenty years of it. Twenty years back hit be- 
 gun — twenty years hit hez lasted . . . bitter years 
 — dark years. . . . One by one they kem thro' that 
 door. One by one they laid on that pallet-bed an' I 
 watched over 'em — all but Cliff — an' one by one they 
 died — an' Cliff he died, too. . . . The war ! Ef hit 
 mus' go on, lemme die fust, dear Gowd, lemme die 
 fust. 
 
 HOPE 
 
 (Kneels on floor beside her) 
 
 I am young, an' hard, an' I don' know — I'm sorry, 
 Gram, sorry I talked that-a-way. W'y Lem Car- 
 malt hain't been seen hyar fer months. He mus' 
 be gone away. Maybe he's gone fer good. 
 
 GRAM 
 (Hopefully) 
 D' yo' reckon ? 
 
18 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 
 
 HOPE 
 
 I'm shore. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Raising and embracing the girl) 
 
 Oh ye air a good gal, Hope. ... I wish I could 
 see yo\ ... Ye war sech a little thing w'en my eyes 
 saw las'. 
 
 (Pause, while she passes her finger tips over the 
 girl's features) 
 
 Yo* favor yer mammy — but I wish I could see! 
 
 (Hope kisses her impulsively) 
 
 (Moved) 
 
 Why Hope! 
 
 (Pause, . . . The owls hoot outside) 
 
 Thar's the owls a-hootin\ 
 
 (Gently) 
 
 Ye better be a-goin' back afore hit gits too late. 
 
 HOPE 
 (Putting some brushwood on the fire) 
 Kin I take th' lantern? 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Why shorely. Whut good's er lantern ter me? 
 
 HOPE 
 I'll be over t'morrer. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Y' air always welcome. 
 
 HOPE 
 Night. 
 
 GRAM 
 Night. 
 
ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 19 
 
 (Hope swings off through the door and to the 
 left. The fire burns up a little — Gram hums and 
 spins once more. As she does so, Lem Carmalt, a 
 man well over six feet tall, a powerful, grizzled crea- 
 ture in homespun and blue shirt and carrying a 
 rifle, comes to the door with the craft and silence of 
 a woodsman, and stands there watching her in- 
 tently) 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Stopping suddenly) 
 
 Someone's in this room. 
 
 (Pause) 
 
 Who is it? 
 
 (With increasing uneasiness) 
 
 I know yo're thar. Who is it? 
 
 (Wildly) 
 
 Who is it, I say? 
 
 LEM 
 
 (Grimly quiet — without moving) 
 Who d' yer reckon hit is? 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Cries out, leaping to her feet) 
 
 Lem — Carmalt. Lem . . . Carmalt!! 
 
 LEM 
 
 (Sharply) 
 
 That thar's my name, an' ye be mighty respec'ful 
 ez how ye speak hit. 
 
 GRAM 
 (Breathless) 
 
 Y-You — ! Y-y-ou! — How dar' ye set foot hyar 
 in my cabin ? 
 
20 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 
 
 LEM 
 
 {Grimly) 
 
 Yer door's open. 
 
 GRAM 
 Hain't ye th' scum o' th' yearth ter kem hyar like 
 this, a-knowin' Fm 'lone! Whut fer air ye hyar? 
 
 LEM 
 
 Whut fer am I hyar? I'm hyar fer ter welcome 
 Clay. 
 
 GRAM 
 {Mystified) 
 C-Clay ... he hain't hyar. 
 
 LEM 
 I done heerd tell of a young lookin' stranger t' 
 other side o' th' Gap. Jinny Wilkins — th' half wit 
 — she said ez he war a-huntin' quail — an' he looked 
 like Clay. So I kem ter welcome him laike I wel- 
 comed three other Gormleys afore him. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 {White to the lips) 
 Gowd — Gowd ! 
 
 {Suddenly turning to him) 
 
 Lem, ye said ye done killed three Gormleys? 
 
 LEM 
 
 {Proudly) 
 
 Yas. Yer Tom, he got two of ourn, but I got 
 three o' yourn — I did — three — they was Steve an' 
 Tolliver an' Cliff. 
 
 {Fondling his gun stock) 
 
 Thar's the notches. 
 
ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 21 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Almost beside herself) 
 
 Yas. . . . An' thar's six o' ourn gone an' I'm 
 good's daid. Say seven o' ourn an' on'y five o' 
 yourn. So far, yo're side's ahead, hain't hit, Lem? 
 
 LEM 
 
 (Grimly toneless) 
 Waal I reckon. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Suddenly) 
 
 Lem, let's call hit off. 
 
 LEM 
 Whut? 
 
 GRAM 
 
 The war. I hain't got many more years ter live. 
 I'll soon be gone. Thar's on'y Clay and you lef . 
 Live out yer years, Lem ; let him live out hisn. 
 
 (With a struggle) 
 
 I'll take th' shame o' th' Gormleys a-bein' beaten. 
 Let's say quits. 
 
 LEM 
 
 I sv^ore I v^ouldn't put back my rifle-gun while 
 thar war a Gormley a-livin'. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Then ye swore murder. 
 
 (A movement from Lem) 
 
 Yas, I said murder. Afore I got r'ligion, I didn' 
 reckon it that-a-way, but shore's Gowd's up thar 
 a-lookin' down on us, hit's murder. D' you think 
 He wants ye to keep an oath like that? 
 
22 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 
 
 LEM 
 
 I said I'd do it, an* I'm a-goin' t'. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 A' right, an' suppose ye do it. Suppose ye git 
 Clay th' way ye got th' uthers, an' I die too, an' all 
 th' Gormleys air gone, and yo're lef , jes' yo, Lem 
 Carmalt. Yo'll sit on' yo'r chair in front o' th' fire, 
 and yo'll hoi' yer rifle-gun t' yo' an' feel o' the /owr 
 notches cut on th' stock, an' yo think yo'll be happy 
 then, Lem, don't ye? Yo' think yo'll be happy? 
 
 LEM 
 
 (Transported) 
 
 Yas — I'll be happy. I'll be a-restin' thar an' 
 a-thinkin' how I cleaned 'em up. Hit'll be th' glad- 
 dest hour of my life. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Hit'll be the bitterest, 'cause yo'll know four men 
 is a-standin' up afore their Maker an' a-pointin' 
 down ter yo'. Each one of 'em a-pintin' t' yo' and 
 each one a-sayin', "Thar's Lem Carmalt as killed 
 me." An' thar'll be thunder an' lightnin' in yer 
 heart, an' th' face o' Gowd a-burnin' in yer face. . . . 
 That's how yo'll be happy, Lem. 
 
 LEM 
 
 Y' cain't move n.'e with that thar talk. I know 
 whut I'm a-goin' ter do. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (In desperation) 
 
 Y' cain't git Clay. He's too fur from hyar. 
 
ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 23 
 
 LEM 
 
 I'll hunt him out. Should ha' done it long ago. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (As a last effort) 
 
 Ef I cain't make yo' listen fur th' sake o' th' 
 Word, listen fur th' sake o' yer pride. Ef yo' kill 
 Clay, yo' on'y kill a boy, an' whut'll th' mountains 
 say t' that? 
 
 (Imploringly) 
 
 Wait till he's a man, Lem, wait till he's a man. 
 
 LEM 
 
 Leave him so's he kin git me? He's old enough 
 t' pull a trigger. 
 
 (With a haunted look) 
 
 Somethin' keeps a-tellin' me t' watch out fur him. 
 Th' las' six months, somethin' keeps a-sayin', "He'll 
 git you onless ye git him fust." So I'm a-goin' ter git 
 him. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Frantically) 
 
 Lem, leave Clay alone. Think o' me, Lem, hev 
 -pity on me. Clay's all I got lef. Hain't I suffered 
 enough? Hain't yo' had satisfaction enough? 
 
 LEM 
 
 (Thunderously) 
 
 No! An' I'll never hev enough. Ef you've seed 
 yo'r man an' yo'r boys die, I've seed my pap an' 
 my brothers die — shot down by yourn. Ef you've 
 been misruble — wot of me — a-slinkin' aroun' on th' 
 hills like a wild animal — a-sleepin' with my eyes 
 an' ears open — a-listenin' t' ev'y leaf — a-watchin' 
 ev'y shadder. Gowd, th' life I've hed ! 
 
24 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 
 
 GRAM 
 Not in th' las' six years. 
 
 LEM 
 
 Wall, hit's beginnin' again, an' I cain't rest. But 
 w'en th' Gormleys is done, then I'll rest well. 
 
 GRAM 
 (Shrieking with rage) 
 
 Ef I could only git ye myself. . . . Ef I could only 
 see long enough fur one shot at yer pizen heart! 
 
 LEM 
 
 You'll never glint 'long th' sights on a gun bar'l 
 again, y' ole she devil. 
 
 GRAM 
 (Facing him — her eyes upturned) 
 
 Hain't yo' proud o' yer v^urk — Look at hit — 
 look 
 
 (Taking hold of him and thrusting her blind face 
 into his eyes) 
 
 Now th' nex' time yo' sight along yo'r gun — 'stead 
 o' seein' Clay, see these eyes in front o' yo'. See 
 'em always — in yo'r cabin, an' w'en yo' go out — 
 in th' darkness an' th' rain an' th' bright sunlight 
 an' in mornin' an' at night — always in front o' yo'. 
 An' w'en yo'r finger te'ches th' trigger feel hit 
 slippy with th' blood o' th' men yo'r murderin' ban's 
 hev killed, an' shoot wide o' the mark, Lem, shoot 
 wide o' the mark. 
 
 LEM 
 
 (Savagely) 
 
 Shet up, I say. Hold yer jaw. 
 
ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 25 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Borne along) 
 
 An' now git out of hyar. A Carmalt y' air, an' 
 a Carmalt you'll die — a polecat like all th' uther 
 polecats — ^yer kin. 
 
 LEM 
 
 (Furiously) 
 
 Yo' leave my name alone or by 
 
 GRAM 
 (Scornfully) 
 Why don't ye shoot? I ain't afeerd o' yo'. 
 
 LEM 
 
 (With^ a rough push rather than blow, sending 
 her sprawling onto the floor) 
 
 Ye hain't worth shootin'. 
 
 (At the door — quietly) 
 
 An' look hyar — ef I ketch yo out on th' trail, I'll 
 jes' finish the work I begun six years ago. 
 
 (In his grimly quiet, almost colorless tone) 
 
 Blin' ole cat. 
 
 (He goes out) 
 
 (Gasping and quaking with excitement, and with 
 inarticulate cries of pain and impotent rage, Gram 
 rises, hurries as quickly as she can to the door, 
 bangs it to and bars it, and puts up the wooden 
 shutters and bars them. As she is moving away 
 from them to the table, she throws her head back as 
 if listening to something overhead. The trap door 
 opens, and the face of a dark haired boy appears in 
 the opening.) 
 
 CLAY 
 
 (Softly, at the trap door) 
 Gram. 
 
26 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 
 
 GRAM 
 {To herself) 
 Hit hain't true. I'm jes' a-hearin' hit. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 Gram, don' you hear me? 
 
 (He hurries down the ladder. A tall handsome 
 young boy of sixteen, in corduroys — a rifle slung 
 over his shoulder. He carries a few quail and some 
 wild flowers) 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Overjoyed, yet not believing her senses) 
 
 Is it — Is it? . . . 
 
 CLAY 
 
 Yas, Gram. 
 
 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Hit's Clay! 
 
 
 
 CLAY 
 
 Yas, hit's me. 
 
 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Embracing him) 
 
 My boy, my little boy Clay — my little boy Clay. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 (Importantly) 
 
 I'm not little enny mo', Gram. 
 
 GRAM 
 (Smiling) 
 Shorley not. Yo're quite a man. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 (Pleased. Slips off his rifle and puts it upon the 
 table) 
 
 Yas . . . an' I reckoned 't was 'bout time I got 
 
ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 27 
 
 home t' do somethin' fur you. So I borreyed the 
 circuit rider's oV critter Colonel — funniest ol' hoss 
 y' ever did see — an' I tuk my rifle-gun and kem 
 over th' hills. Look what I've brought you. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 . (Touching them) 
 Some pa'tridges. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 Yas. Y'ought ter see me shoot 'em. Plink — on 
 th' wing too — an' they drap daid. Circuit rider sed 
 ef I knew my Bible's well's I knew how t' shoot, I'd 
 be better off. But I tole him shootin' come natch'l 
 an' th' Bible didn't. 
 
 (Pleasantly) 
 
 Hyar's white everlastin' an' some evenin' prim- 
 roses I found on th' way. They looked laike drops 
 o' snow an' yeller sunshine on th' black mountains. 
 
 (Remembering her blindness) 
 
 Oh. . . . 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Don' mind, Clay. I like ter know w'en things look 
 purty. But how'd yo' get in? 
 
 CLAY 
 I wanted to surprise yo, so I tethered ol' Colonel 
 down in th' dip — and come over my ol' secret trail, 
 and up through the holler tree jes' outside thar — 
 an' 'cross th' branch right into th'- lof ' window. Oh, 
 it's gran' gettin' back into th' hills and among the 
 pines again. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Don' ye want somethin' t' eat? 
 
28 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 
 
 CLAY 
 
 No. I stopped at th' Wilkins cabin, an' ole man 
 Wilkins he give me somethin' t' eat. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Fear gripping her as she thinks of Lent) 
 Did Jinny Wilkins see yo'? 
 
 CLAY 
 
 Yas — o' course — but wheref o' yo say it that-a-way 
 —"Jinny Wilkins?'' 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Why, I done said it nachally. I don't mean nuthin' 
 by it. . . . Come hyar, Clay — set beside me and tell 
 me whut you've larned. Kin yo' read an' write 
 some? 
 
 CLAY 
 
 {Troubled) 
 
 Yas — but I ain't thinkin' 'bout that. What makes 
 ye ac' so quare, Gram ? 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Nuthin', nuthin' 't all. What's quare, except 
 bein' so glad t' see yo. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 Yo' don' ac' glad. Yo' ac' scairt laike. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Why should I be scairt? 
 
 CLAY 
 
 I dunno. 
 
 (Looks round puzzled) 
 
 Why'd yo' bar th' doors an' winders ? People in 
 th' mountains don' bar their door. 
 
ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 29 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Evasively) 
 
 I'm 'lone. Somebody might come in. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 (Suspiciously) 
 
 I thought I seen somebody go out'n that door 
 when I was a-comin' over my oV trail. I caught 
 sight o' his shadder. Who was it, Gram? . . . 
 
 GRAM 
 Jes' oF man Tavender. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 Seemed bigger'n oV man Tavender. 
 
 GRAM 
 (With dignity) 
 I said 't war oV man Tavender, Clay. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 (Sullenly) 
 
 Maybe I was wrong, but hit didn' seem like 
 
 (The far scream of a horse in pain breaks his 
 speech) 
 
 CLAY 
 
 What's that? Why hit's ol' Colonel. Pore crit- 
 ter, he's hurt hisself. 
 (He starts for the door) 
 
 GRAM 
 (Terror-stricken) 
 Hit hain't Colonel, Clay. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 Yes, 'tis. 
 
30 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 
 
 GRAM 
 
 No, tain't, Clay. I tell ye tain't — I know. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 (Positively) 
 
 He's hurt — y* cain't fergit the screamin' of a 
 hawss once you've heard it. I know that's Colonel. 
 
 GRAM 
 Don' go, Clay. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 ' Why not? 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Somebody's a-hurtin' him a-purpose. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 (Smiling) 
 
 Why, who'd hurt a hawss a-purpose — 'less it was 
 
 a Carma 
 
 (The truth dawns on him — slowly) 
 It's Lem Carmalt! 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Paiose — slowly) 
 
 Yas, Clay. He's been hyar t'night. He's a-waitin' 
 t' kill ye. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 Hyar ! Lem Carmalt hyar ! An' now he's hurtin' 
 
 that pore ol' beast 
 
 (He goes for his rifle, Gram seizes him) 
 Lemme go — lemme go I say. I got to git that thar 
 
 snake. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Don' go. Clay, fur my sake, don' go. Lem an' his 
 hev taken all I hed. He'll take you now. 
 
ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 31 
 
 CLAY 
 
 (JJLAl 
 
 I jes' pint blank got tuh go, Gram. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Beseechingly) 
 
 Listen to me, Clay. I need yo'. Clay. I'm or — 
 so or — so full of sorrers. Don' make it wuss fur 
 me. . . . Don't go — my boy — my own boy — 
 don' go. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 I'll do ennything else fur yo, Gram, but this I 
 cain't. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 He'll kill yo' th' way he killed th' others, an' 
 they'll lay yo' on that pallet-bed th' way they laid 
 
 the 
 
 (Breaks off — pushing the vision away from her) 
 
 I couldn't Stan' hit. Clay. Hit would kill me. I 
 
 cain't stand hit no mo'. The war's broke me. Ef 
 
 I lose you, whut'll I hev left? Think o' me. Clay, 
 
 think o' me. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 I do think o' yo. Gram. Whut good 'd I be t' 
 yo' ef ye knowed I war a coward? 
 
 GRAM 
 
 I won't never think it. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 Then all Vengeance Height'll think it, and that 
 
 won't save me neither. Coward or no, ef I stay 
 
 here or no, he'll kill me fust chance he gits. I got 
 
 t' take my chance with him. I jes' haffter do it. 
 
32 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Wait— wait — a leetle while — jes' a leetle while. 
 He's a man growed, born an' raised on these mount- 
 ings. He knows ev'y stone an' bresh. Yo've been 
 away. Wait till yo've got a better chance 'gainst 
 him. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 (Proudly) 
 
 I kin shoot's good's him. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Hain't all yer larnin' teached ye better'n t' go 
 out a-shootin' an' a-bein' shot at? 
 
 CLAY 
 
 (Civilization dropping from him) 
 Whut's larnin' w'en yo' got t' kill a man? 
 
 (Gram suddenly snatches his rifle and stands 
 with her back to the door) 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Yo're not a-goin'. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 I'm not a-goin' that-a-way, but the way I kem. 
 I'll creep through the lof winder an' down th' hol- 
 ler tree an' thro' the grass lik' a snake. I'd be 
 willin' t' be a snake t' get him. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (Frantically) 
 
 Yo're not a-goin', I say. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 (With a new dignity) 
 
 Thar's a Carmalt out thar, Gram. 
 
ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 33 
 
 GRAM 
 Yas. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 Yo know what they-uns done t' us. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (The word being wrung from her) 
 Ya-a-s. 
 
 CLAY 
 
 Yo' killed one of 'em yo'self. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 Y-a-s. 
 
 CLAY 
 Then gimme that rifle-gun an' tell me t' go th' 
 way y' tole yer sons ter go 
 
 GRAM 
 
 (After an intense inward struggle, straightens 
 out — and gives him the rifle) 
 
 Yo' air the son of my sons. Go an' God keep yer 
 eye clar an' yer han' steady. 
 
 (He mounts the ladder and disappears) 
 
 (The moment after he has left the room, Gram 
 flings out her arms and uncontrollably breaks into 
 passionate prayer) 
 
 Gowd A'mighty, save him from th' hand o' that 
 mis'ruble houn' a-waitin' fer him in th' dusk o' this 
 night. Don' let him pay in his young innercence 
 fer the sins o' his fathers, fer th' enemies they 
 made, fer the blood they shed. Here 'm I — an ole, 
 helpless woman — but don' cast me off — oh Lord — 
 listen t' me in my trubble an' hev marcy on me. 
 Take me 'stead o' him, Lord. I ain't wuth a mite, 
 
34 ON VENGEANCE HEIGHT 
 
 but his whole life's ahead, an' he's got larnin' — 
 what cain't he do. I ain't selfish 'nuff t' want him 
 an' me both spared. Ef it mus' be one t' be tooken 
 t'night, Lord Gowd A'mighty, let it be me! 
 
 (Two shots ring out, A third one follows, and 
 after a pause a fourth. Gram rushes to the door, 
 flings hack the bar, throws the door open, and 
 wildly calls, ''Clay — Clay — Clay." 
 
 Receiving no answer she breaks down utterly. 
 Her frame shaking with sobs she walks to the couch, 
 turns down the bear robe and the blankets, and ar- 
 ranges it as if to receive a wounded man. Then 
 she feels her way to the table, reaches up to the 
 hanging shelf, takes down a broad roll of linen, and 
 stands there tearing it into bandages. The tears 
 rolling down her cheeks she murmurs, ''Clay, Clay.") 
 
 CLAY 
 (Now a pale, stern man comes to the doorway 
 from the right) 
 
 I done got him, Gram. He's daid. 
 
 GRAM 
 
 {Throwing out her arms, beating her hands to- 
 gether, and in infinite pride, satisfaction, and ecstasy 
 raising her shrill song of triumph) 
 
 He's daid — he's daid — Lem Carmalt's daid. My 
 Clay, he killed him. 
 
 CURTAIN 
 
LIBRftRY OF CONGRESS 
 
 III 
 
 015 905 313 1