The first thing that struck them was that it was a rough and tattered old rag.
And Sam remarked: "I see now why Da said we could have it. I reckon we'll have to patch it before we cut out the teepee."
"No," said Yan, assuming control, as he was apt to do in matters pertaining to the woods; "we better draw our plans first so as not to patch any part that's going to be cut off afterward."
"Great head! But I'm afraid them patches won't be awful ornamental."
"They're all right," was the reply. "Indians' teepees are often patched where bullets and arrows have gone through."
"Well, I'm glad I wa'n't living inside during them hostilities," and Sam exposed a dozen or more holes.
"Oh, get off there and give me that cord."
"Look out," said Sam; "that's my festered knee. It's near as bad to-day as it was when we called on the witch."
Yan was measuring. "Let's see. We can cut off all those rags and still make a twelve-foot teepee. Twelve foot high—that will be twenty-four feet across the bottom of the stuff. Fine! That's just the thing. Now I'll mark her off."