Yah, I know'd Carl Tank. Poor ol'
salt, he lived down yonder by Beaver Pond. After his wife and little
one succumbed to that gul-darn fever, well, he said there was just
nothin' left for him here. He looked back up the trail at those
mountains there and said he ain't never been up that'a way. I
thought he was gunna say more, but he didn't. So he let out b'for
sun up with Jenny, his ol' mule. That was better than two years ago.
I ought not say, but I'm a thinkin' he's not fixin' on comin' back