Joseph Morris was now coming up, gun in hand, to learn the meaning of the shot which had been fired. He looked with surprise at the dead snakes and then at his nephew and the stranger.
“This is Mr. Washington, the surveyor,” said Dave, and then he added: “This is my uncle, Mr. Joseph Morris. I am Dave Morris. We come from back of Will’s Creek.”
“I have heard of the Morrises before,” said Washington, as he shook hands with Joseph Morris.
“And I have heard of you, sir, and have met your brother Lawrence,” answered Dave’s uncle. “You seem to have had a lively time of it,” he continued, and kicked one of the snakes with his foot to make sure that it was dead.
“Yes, I did have. But your nephew came to my aid, and between us we made short work of the reptiles. Master David, I owe you my thanks, and more.”
Washington bowed as he spoke, and Dave bowed in return. “It wasn’t much I did,” said the youth. “You frightened them pretty well when you fired that shot. It’s lucky you had your gun in hand.”
At this the surveyor smiled faintly. “I was out trying to stir up some dinner,” he said. “You see, I left all my traps over at Denton’s and I did not wish to go back until to-morrow. I thought it would be easy to pick up a bird or two, or a pair of squirrels.”
“If that is the case, will you not come and eat with us?” said Mr. Morris. “We were just preparing our midday meal. We have a-plenty and you will be heartily welcome.”
At first Washington demurred, not wishing to intrude, but soon he saw that the invitation was genuine, and he consented to join the Morrises.
“I left some of my surveying outfit behind yonder rocks,” he said. “I will bring them over and then help with your fire,” and this he did, and soon he and Dave were bringing in armfuls of wood. In half an hour the meal was ready and the three sat down to partake of it.