Besides this careful supervision of her children, her gentle counsels often influenced her husband, and other men of the tribe, for the better, when sometimes they were inclined to challenge the forest laws, or to throw away their money by “getting on the spree;” so that the neighbours round about came to say of the tribe, “They’re a bit ‘sobererer’ since old Sampson married.”
Two sons were born to Sampson and his wife, twins—named “Mat” and “Tim”—and a daughter.
It is with Mat that our story chiefly deals.
Always recognized as the eldest, and at this time still in his teens, Mat Stanley closely resembled his father in many respects, and from having accompanied him for some years on his various expeditions he was intimately acquainted with the Forest, its woods and glades. No one knew better than he the haunts of the deer and blackgame, and he alone of all the Forest youths could climb the gigantic beeches of “Vinney Ridge” to rob the herons’ nests.
Mat could also hold his own very fairly at both boxing and wrestling with far bigger lads than himself.
Besides these achievements he made small sums now and again by breaking-in forest colts, and otherwise helping the squatters with their cattle. By nature he was always ready to help any one, who through misfortune or physical cause was not able to help himself; though possessed of a quick temper, he was never anxious to pick a quarrel, but when one was forced upon him, ready to show of what determined stuff he was made.
“Tim,” the brother, was of a more retiring disposition, by reason of his health. His constitution not being so robust, and suffering as he did sometimes acutely from rheumatism, he was not calculated either to join in the active pursuits of Mat, or accompany him or his father during their expeditions; but he stayed at the camp, where he proved useful in helping his mother and others of his tribe in looking after the animals and pitching tents, though when the proper season arrived he took his share at cutting and “rinding” timber.
The sister, Ruth, also assisted her mother in cooking, washing, and other details of camp life.
Having thus shortly described the family, we must not omit to mention the guard of the camp, a long-legged, bob-tailed, powerful, rough-coated lurcher, named “Jumper.”
As a pup he had been brought up to mind his master’s grinding-machine and tools, and his chief duty he thoroughly understood from that time, namely, never to allow a stranger to approach any property belonging to the gipsies; moreover, he would fetch in the donkeys and horse unaided, and on many occasions proved his speed by running down a wounded deer.