“Today’s as good as any time, Jim.”
Ma looked troubled. “Must you go, Pa?”
Pa nodded and patted his wife’s shoulder awkwardly. “Now Ma, you’ve been nervous and upset ever since Wahbunou went away. I’d think you’d want us to go hunting. Only yesterday you said you were tired of living on rabbit. You’ll be all right here, but don’t leave the cabin. We’ll be home by early evening.”
Ma squared her shoulders and bristled a little. “Pa, I haven’t been any more upset than usual. You know I’ve never liked this country; I want to go back to Virginia.” She sighed. “I do know we need fresh meat. Well, I’ll spend the day spinning my flax.”
Pa’s brown eyes sparkled in relief. “That’s a good girl, Ma. Who knows? Maybe we’ll get a deer. Then you’ll have a deerskin to make a jacket and some leggings.”
“Or maybe we’ll get a bear,” Jim boasted.
Soon they were ready to go. Jim was dressed exactly like his father. Each wore home-made moccasins, fur caps, loose thin homespun trousers, topped by long fringed hunting shirts reaching nearly to their knees. Their shirts were held in at the waist by broad belts.
Pa hung his long knife from his belt and Jim started down the clearing, carrying Pa’s heavy flintlock rifle. It was as long as Jim was tall and difficult for him to carry, but he tried to manage it proudly.
As Pa went striding through the thick woods, Jim did his best to keep up with him. Now and then a squirrel darted along in front of them, or a few wild turkeys flew over their heads, frightened by their approach.
Jim stopped and started to raise his rifle. “Let’s shoot some turkeys, Pa. Ma always likes to cook turkey.”