That, coming from Captain Joncaire, who was part Indian himself, sounded rather airy.
Now they all proceeded to the large log house. Once the Hunter had thought Captain Joncaire, and Andrew Montour also, to be wonderful persons. But beside Washington, dignified even in his soaked and ragged clothes, and over-topping the three French by a full head, Captain Joncaire and his officers looked small.
A huge fire was blazing hotly in the large main room of the old trading house. There were benches, and a plank table set for supper. A Delaware woman was sent for, and came and dressed Robert’s leg. Then at a signal from Captain Joncaire and a nod from Washington he lay down out of the way, upon a bear-skin, near the fire.
Servants began to add dishes and jugs and bottles to the other things upon the table, and brought in roasts of bear, deer and turkeys, a pudding, and heaps of little cakes, and jars of preserves—many things that were strange to Robert, but all looking mighty good.
Candles in brackets were placed upon the table, and the glasses and the dishes shone brightly. Washington and Jacob Vanbraam had removed their heavy coats, and had washed. All sat down at the table. It was to be a feast. Servants passed dishes to them, with meat that had been cut. Never in his life had Robert the Hunter been so hungry. Then Captain Joncaire, with a little cry—“Here, child!”—tossed him a meaty bone to gnaw. But Washington said, politely: “With your permission, monsieur,” and got up and coming with his own piled-up plate handed it to the Hunter.
“This is yours, my brave boy,” he said. “I know what hunger is, myself.”
The Frenchmen stared as if they could scarcely believe their eyes. Captain Joncaire laughed gaily.
“My word, monsieur!” he exclaimed in the French. “You have the grand manner to an Indian whelp. But you omit. I, Captain, Chabert de Joncaire, will supply. Here, Jacques—” and he filled a tumbler with wine and passed it to a servant: “This for the young seigneur in the corner, that he may drink to His Gracious Majesty the King of France.”
Washington stretched out his arm and stopped the servant, and set the glass upon the table again.
“No, monsieur, if you please,” he said. He gazed straight at Captain Joncaire. “Water is the sufficient drink, as I have found, myself; and I would not wish to heat his blood.”