The chairs, like all of the furniture, were doubtless the handiwork of Amesbury himself. Everything in the room was spotlessly clean and in order. The setting sun sent a shaft of sunlight through a window, giving the room an air of brightness, and enhancing its atmosphere of homely comfort.
When the fire which Amesbury lighted in the stove began to crackle, he asked:
“Well, fellows, how do you like my den? Think you can be comfortable here for three or four months?”
“’Tis grand, sir,” said Dan.
“Mr. Amesbury, it’s splendid!” declared Paul.
Both lads had been long enough from home, and had endured sufficient buffeting of the wilderness to measure by contrast with their recent experiences the attractions of Amesbury’s cabin, and it appealed to them as little short of luxurious.
“Not splendid, but good enough for a trapper. Hang up your things; you’ll find pegs. Make yourselves at home now. Sit down and rest up. Ahmik will take care of the stuff outside,” and as Amesbury went about the preparation of supper he sang:
“‘There was an old woman, and what do you think?
She lived upon nothing but victuals and drink: