“He well might be,” observed Captain Sinclair; “he has not often met with such objects as you and your sister in the woods.”
“No,” replied Emma; “an English squaw must be rather a rarity.”
As she said this, old Malachi Bone came up, and seated himself, without speaking, placing his rifle between his knees.
“Your servant, sir,” said Mr Campbell; “I hope you are well.”
“What on earth makes you come here?” said Bone, looking round him. “You are not fit for the wilderness! Winter will arrive soon; and then you go back, I reckon.”
“No, we shall not,” replied Alfred, “for we have nowhere to go back to; besides, the people are too crowded where we came from, so we came here for more room.”
“I reckon you’ll crowd me,” replied the hunter, “so I’ll go farther.”
“Well, Malachi, the gentleman will pay you for your clearing.”
“I told you so,” said Martin.
“Yes, you did; but I’d rather not have seen him or his goods.”