In a few minutes they were at the door of the cabin. Bright-eye dismounted and took off his fur cap.
"I am back after a long absence. Give me your blessing."
"Take it with all our hearts," cried the two old men.
They then shook hands cordially, Oliver looking on with a deep sigh of envy and regret.
"He at all events has a family," he said.
"Come nearer, my friend," cried Bright-eye; and when Oliver stood beside him, he added, "this is Oliver, my friend. Eight days ago we met in the savannah, and we have never parted since. He loves me and I love him; he is a brave man and a most excellent hunter; our friend, the redskin, calls him Bounding Panther."
"He is welcome," said the old man; "all Frenchmen are our brothers; as long as he chooses to remain there is a hut to shelter him and a quarter of venison for his food."
"Well spoken, father," said his son, shaking hands with the young Frenchman; "we are French here. Welcome."
"Messieurs," replied Oliver, with a bow and a smile, "it is not with words we answer such words, but by acts."
"We welcome you as a second son; come in."