"I have cooked the meat; but now," says she, with a little shrug and a smile, "I don't know what to do with it."
An ordinary woman in her place would have asked what ailed me so suddenly; but she was of a finer and more delicate nature, and sought to reconcile me without causing me to blush for taking umbrage at a trifle.
For my own part I was glad to believe she had mistaken the cause of my disorder, and was better content she should think me a fool than a rogue. But I felt vastly ashamed of myself, for all that, to find that my demeanor had discovered me. However, I did my best to make amends for my sullen humor by rousing myself to a cheerful complexion as I answered her.
"Why," says I, "the meat must be wrapped in fresh leaves, as well to preserve it from the flies as to keep it cool and clean for our use in traveling; and as I have not yet decided which course it will be best to take, for it is a serious and grave question, I will leave you to seek leaves for that purpose."
"With all my heart," says she cheerfully. "I want to be useful if I may; but I will bring the leaves for you to see, lest the napkin poison our food."
Thus by a little deception did I restore her better opinion of my temper, at the same time that her pretty behavior roused me to a more manly feeling.
Presently she comes back with a store of leaves, which I found very proper for her use, and then away she trips to pack the meat.
When I had settled what was best to be done, I went to her and found she had just finished her business, and admirably neat she had done it, so that I was forced to admit I could never have succeeded so well, which I thought it gave her great pleasure to hear.
"And have you decided what we are to do next?" she asked.
"I am not so fixed but that I should be glad to have your opinion," says I; "and if you will come down to the point whence I have been surveying our position, you may more readily judge what we may do for the best."