Jem shook his head.
“I don’t believe there’s any Englishmen here, Mas’ Don.”
“I do. I think I’ve read that there are; and if we do not find any, we shall have seen the place, and can come back here.”
“He talks just like as if he was going for a ride to Exeter by the Bristol waggon! Ah, well, just as you like, Mas’ Don, only don’t let’s go this afternoon, it’s all too nice and comfortable. I don’t want to move. Say, wonder whether there’s any fish in that lake?”
“Sure to be, Jem, and hundreds of wonders to see if we journey on.”
“Dessay, my lad, dessay; but it’s werry wonderful here. Look along that hollow place where the big fir trees is growing.”
“Lovely, Jem. What a beautiful home it would make.”
“Say, Mas’ Don, let’s make our fortunes.”
“How?”
“Let’s set up in trade, and deal in wood. Lookye yonder, there’s fir trees there, that if we cut ’em down and trimmed ’em, they’d be worth no end o’ money in Bristol, for ships’ masts.”