When Mary and Frank arose next morning, they saw the small boughs of the oak hung with divided portions of venison. The boys had so placed them, after finishing, late at night, for the double purpose of allowing them to cool and of keeping them out of reach of the dogs. "Come, Frank," said Mary, "let us make up the fire, and get things ready for breakfast." The wood was close at hand, ready cut, and nothing more was needed for a fire than putting the pieces together, with several sticks of light wood underneath; a bright cracking blaze soon rose cheerfully before them.
"Buddy," she said, "can you not go down to the spring, and bring me some water, while I am preparing these other things?"
But Frank was lazy that morning, and out of humour, and the fire was so comfortable (for the air was cool) that he stood before it, warming his hands, and puffing at the smoke that blew in his face. He replied, "No, sister, I am afraid"--then he paused, trying hard to think of some excuse. "I am afraid that if I go the crabs will bite me."
"Crabs!" Mary exclaimed. "Why how can they bite you, when they are all cooked?"
"I do not mean the crabs in the dish," said he, "but the crabs in the river."
"Well, if they are in the river," argued Mary, "how can they hurt you, if you keep on the land?"
Frank found that his excuse was about to fail. But he was not disposed to surrender so easily. He therefore devised another. "I am afraid to go, for if the crabs do not bite me maybe the snakes will. Don't you remember what cousin Harold told us the other day about snakes."
Frank said this very seriously, and had not Mary been somewhat provoked at his unbrotherly refusal, she would have laughed at the ridiculous contrast between his looks and his language. She said, reproachfully, "I thought, Frank, you loved me better than to treat me so. I want the water to make coffee for you, and the rest of us, and yet you will not help me."
"I do not wish any of the coffee," he answered. "All that I want for breakfast is some of that nice fat deer, and some of these fish and crabs."
"Very well," she added, in a hurt but independent tone, "I can help myself."