Read The Healer for Free Online Page B

force that left him breathless. Billy considered this the funniest sight he had ever seen and laughed until Abe Zook was mildly alarmed.
    "Best we walk the smell of the cider out of your head," he remarked rising. As they left the graveyard he added, "Fall is a good time to dig roots, for now when the plant is taken the seeds fall and make new plants for next year. In spring if you dig the plant, nothing is left. Now I will show you one more plant, the king of all plants. No, do not worry. This is a good plant that only helps people. I am the only person who knows where it grows."
    They crossed the road and plunged into the deep woods on the side of a high ridge. Abe Zook told the boy to leave his basket, which he was only too glad to do, for the grade was so steep that he had to bend forward almost on his hands and knees for the climb. Abe Zook went first, watching ahead so he could lead the way around tangles of poison ivy, patches of blackberry bushes, and stands of saplings. The boy soon learned not to follow him too closely, for the branches pushed forward by the old man's body snapped back and hit him in the face, even when Abe Zook held them to break the whiplash. Billy was thoroughly exhausted when the braucher stopped.
    "See, here are hickory trees and there, beech," he said, pointing to a grove of great trees.
    "Are they the king plant?"
    "No, no. Where those trees stand like that and the land slopes away, the drainage is good and the ground rich." He bent over and picked up a handful of the rich, soft, black loam. "So here the king plant grows."
    "Is that the only name it has?"
    "It is ginseng," said the old man reverently. "There is only a little of it left."
    "What's it good for?"
    "Everything. It cures everything. The scientists do not know about ginseng but the Chinese people do."
    "The people in China?"
    "Once I sent hundreds of pounds of ginseng every year to China. Now that is not allowed, and besides, there is only a little ginseng left. People came in their cars from the city and dug up whole beds, not only the big, old, grandfather roots that were past bearing, but the young shoots as well. Only this one little bed remains because it is well hidden. I sell it to Chinese people in Philadelphia and New York."
    The trunks of the great trees rose above them like columns in a cathedral. Although there were few leaves left on the branches, the light was dim. Billy looked around him, half afraid, yet tense with excitement. "Where are those roots?" he whispered, not daring to lift his voice in this ghostly place. "I don't see anything."
    Without answering, Abe Zook led the way deep into the grove. The dead leaves carpeting the forest floor were damp and springy under their feet so they moved noiselessly. Abe Zook quartered the whole grove with Billy following eagerly behind him, not having any idea what they were looking for. At last the old man stopped and said bitterly, "They are all."
    "What do you mean, 'They are all'?"
    "They are all gone."
    "Where did they go?"
    "Some other root digger has found them."
    The old man and the young boy stood staring at the leaf-strewn ground with equally dejected expressions. Then Abe Zook took a few steps forward and bent over.
    He spoke with repressed fervor. "Blood wortzel." He pulled up a small herb. "Yah, and there is Solomon's seal." He crossed the grove in a few quick strides and jerked up another plant. "See here once. On the root is the seal of the great King Solomon." He showed the root to Billy, but the boy could see nothing except some vague marks. "Wortzel and Solomon's seal are pointers that show where the 'seng grows." Lying down on his stomach, the old man looked along the ground and gave a grunt of satisfaction. "Look there. The red berries." Getting down, Billy could see the gleam of crimson against dark green foliage. "The 'seng is under the maples over there. I had forgotten."
    In a few seconds they had left the beech grove and were among the maples. The