But so far from manifesting any contrition, Tige, all the time his master was talking to him, kept wagging his tail, and looking him in the face.
“You must not throw a person away for one mistake,” said Ben. “Tige has been trained from childhood to feel, that to get birds when they are shot is the great duty of his life.”
“Well, Fred,” said Sally (when the pie had come upon the table, and he had despatched the first plateful), “what do you think of my pie?”
“Tongue cannot tell,” he replied, holding out his plate for more.
“I think,” said Ben, “it is about the best mess I ever tasted; I mean to have one every year after this.”
“Wouldn’t father like this?” asked John: “when he gets home we’ll have some.”
CHAPTER XX.
A HAIR-BREADTH ESCAPE.
Dinner at length being over (though later than usual, on account of the time occupied in baking the pie, and later, still, by reason of the goodness of it), they prepared to start, taking with them an axe to build a camp, tinder in a horn, flint, steel, and matches, which were made by dipping splinters of wood into melted brimstone, and which would burn when touched to the spark in the tinder. As they were to be gone but a short time, they carried no materials for cooking, but took their provisions ready cooked.
The wind was fair, but light, and they steered for the lone spruce on Birch Point, and, passing it, kept on to the north-east, having resolved to run the shore along, keeping a bright lookout for the high rock with the spruce on its summit, till they judged by the tide it was midnight, when, if they could not find the place, they would go ashore and camp, continuing their search in the morning. As night fell the wind began to rise, and dark clouds occasionally obstructed the moon. They coasted swiftly along the wild and rugged shore, looking in vain for the landmark. All at once the sea combed astern of them, with a tremendous roar, and so near that they were wet with the spray.