Butler addressed a savage near him in his own tongue, and turned again to the old maid.
“Give him some money, Miss Carter, and you can have the horse.”
“Money! pay money for a hoss that I’ve owned these twen—this long time!— Wal, that is a purty how-de-do, I must say.”
But Butler’s remonstrances and the sullen look of the Indian proved that she could not obtain the faithful animal on any other terms. That moment, the General looked towards his mistress, and, recognizing her with a low neigh of delight, Aunt Polly could not withstand that appeal. She put her hand in her bosom and drew forth an old shot-bag, as ruefully as if it had been her own heart, untied it, and took out the two guineas, her chief treasures. She eyed them ruefully, and was about to thrust them into the bag again, when the General, sagacious animal, whinnied. Aunt Polly grasped one of the pieces, and thrust the rest into her bosom.
“Perhaps you could persuade him to take a string of beads, or some gew-gaw instead,” whispered Butler, rather pitying her distress.
“Lawful sakes,” cried the old maid, joyfully. “I’ve got just the purtiest string; stand in front of me, captain, and turn your back, while I loosen my dress, so as to get ’em off.”
Butler obeyed, laughing heartily, and Aunt Polly hurriedly untied a string of bright blue glass beads, and held them up before the Indian, who gave a humph of delight, and snatched them from her hand, at the same moment. Aunt Polly darted towards the General, slipped the bridle over her arm, and rushed back into the fort with the old horse trotting behind her; she reached a safe corner, and sat down on the ground, fairly hysterical with tears and laughter.
“Oh, Gin’ral, Gin’ral Washington, I should have died if I’d lost you—I know I should! He! he! only to think how I cheated the feller—poor old Gin’ral, you’re thin as a shad! A string of old blue beads, that wasn’t worth ten coppers—try agin, when you want to cheat a born Connecticut woman, you red varmint you.”
When the Tories and savages had fairly disappeared Aunt Polly was among the first to leave the fort.
“Wal,” she said to the bystanders, as she mounted on the General, with the aid of a broken bench, “I’ve lost my saddle; but, thank goodness, I can ride bare-back. But where’s Captain Slocum? he hain’t said a word about that ’ere rum.”