"Yo's sit down and eat and rest, Marse Mainwaring and Marse Steve," he said, giggling between the words. "Den yo'se lie down, and Sammy watch to seen no Red Injun come near to hurt yo. Marse Steve?"
"Well, Sammy."
"To'morrer p'raps yo sit outside'r the door and speak to Sammy? P'raps yo tell us all what's happ'nd?"
"Perhaps," answered Steve. "Now, hurry up with that turkey. Father and I have not had a peaceful meal for many a day. As for sleep, I fancy we have seldom had both eyes closed."
It was wonderful the way in which they settled down at the log hut which Tom had made his home. As if he had not been away from the place for even an hour, Tom strode across to the fireplace, and, taking his musket in his hand, spilled the powder from the pan, and blew the last of the grains away. Then he laid the weapon across the buck horns nailed to the logs, stringing the powder horn to one of the antlers, and the bag of bullets opposite. His coon-skin cap went still higher, while his damp moccasins were placed a few inches from the embers. Steve followed suit, and very soon the two were discussing the wild turkey.
Some three weeks later, as Steve and Sammy were engaged in manufacturing maple sugar, Tom came and sat on a log close by and watched them carefully. They had three large iron cauldrons dangling over log fires, while a fourth, a smaller one, hung over a separate fire placed some yards from the others. And here they were making a store of sugar to last them throughout the winter. Very early that day Sammy and Steve had been out in the forest, and having blazed certain of the maples, had set their jars beneath the slashes to catch the sap. And now they were boiling the latter down, throwing fresh sap into the larger cauldrons as the bubbling mass threatened to overflow the sides. It was a long process, and for some hours now they had been engaged in the task. They had boiled and boiled the mass till their store of sap was reduced to a third of its former volume, and now that third was placed in the smaller cauldron. Tom watched as they lifted the latter from its iron support and poured its contents into stone vessels to crystallise and cool.
"Steve," he called out. "Steve, I'm going away. I'll be back in a couple of months if nothing turns up to stop me."
Steve was not surprised. His father had gone away from the settlement on some business on several occasions before, while he had remained to keep house.
"Very well, father," he said. "I'll stay here and look out for your return. It will be winter almost by the time you come back."