“Mother, how much better you can plan than I can.”
“She has had a good deal of experience in managing men,” said Mr. Whitman, who had been a silent, but by no means indifferent listener.
“Husband, do you want me to box your ears?”
CHAPTER XX.
JAMES AND EMILY.
They set forward the first week in September. James had left everything but his rifle and ammunition in the wilderness, and on his way home had stopped every night at a tavern or farm-house. He therefore had nothing to carry of any consequence, and put a pack-saddle on his colt, which Mr. Whitman had broken in the course of the winter, and in the pockets of the saddle put all Miss Conly’s clothes, flint and steel, provender, pepper and salt, and mugs to drink out of, and knives and forks. Behind the saddle of Miss Conly’s horse was strapped a round valise, in which she carried her needles and some clothing and light articles. When the weather was pleasant they put up only at night at the taverns, which were generally poor; halting at noon by some stream or pleasant spot that afforded grass for the horses. At such times James would often shoot game and cook it on the coals, or catch a fish in the stream, and they would lunch.
The diffidence of James gradually wore off as he became better acquainted with his companion and found how implicitly she relied upon him for care and protection, but that very fact, coupled with his high sense of honor, prevented him from giving voice to the words that were often upon his lips, because he felt that to do this when they were alone in the wilderness was taking an undue advantage and placing her in an embarrassing position,—and more terrible still, should he meet with a refusal, how awkward and constrained would be their positions going back together, as go they must in the spring.
He could not, however, endure the thought of going into the woods before the matter was settled, and remaining in a state of suspense all winter. They were now within a day’s journey of Pittsburg and James had not effected the purpose nearest his heart. He now began to accuse himself for having neglected on the road opportunities that would never occur again, for at Pittsburg they would be in a crowded tavern; and at William Whitman’s his stay would be brief, and there would occur no opportunities so favorable as many he had suffered to pass by unimproved.
The sun was setting as they neared the Scotch settler’s, where James had before been made so welcome, and Pittsburg was but two miles away. Mr. Cameron was seated bareheaded on the door-stone with his wife, watching the children, who were frolicking with a calf they were rearing. Hearing the tread of horses, he looked up and instantly coming forward, said,—
“Gude e’en, Maister Renfew, I am blythe to see you, and to find that you like us weel eneuch to be ganging this way again.”
“I never enjoyed myself better than I did last winter, and I am glad to find you and your family all in good health, for I see they are all here. This is Miss Conly, a sister to Mrs. Whitman, and is going to spend the winter with her.”