"How many, Miss? Why, I 'most fergit. Now, let me see; there's Bennie, an' Susie, an' Tommy, an' the twins, an' Pete, an' Dennis, an' the baby. Oh, I fergot Martha, Sam, an' another pair of twins."
"It is no wonder you find it hard to remember how many you have," Jean replied. "It must take a great deal to feed and clothe such a large family."
"Indeed it does, Miss, an' that's why I'm cookin' here. I'm not as young as I used to be, so can't stand heavy work. But, then, I wouldn't like to lose one of me little ones. It 'ud about break the hearts of me an' me wife. When we heard about you bein' carried off in the dead of night, we cried, that's what we did, an' went an' counted all of our little lambs asleep in their beds."
"So you heard of me, did you?"
"I should say we did, Miss. Everybody knew about it. My, I'm glad to see ye safe an' sound. I do hope them slashers'll git what's comin' to 'em. I'd like to be after 'em this very minute."
"And so would I," Dane agreed. "It doesn't seem right for me to be lying here when I should be out with the mast-cutters."
"Don't ye worry about that, young man. You've done yer share all right in givin' us the warnin'. An', besides, look what ye've done fer this girl. I guess if it hadn't been fer you she'd be layin' out there in the woods now. Don't ye worry. What ye both need is a good sleep, so I'm goin' to ask you, Miss, to take my bunk over yon in the corner. I guess ye'll find everythin' in good shape, fer my wife's a most pertic'ler woman an' has trained me right."
Jean was only too glad to accept the offer. She was weary to the point of exhaustion, and her head ached. As she laid herself down upon the bunk, and Old Dennis tenderly covered her with two grey blankets, the softest bed in which she had ever slept never felt so good. She knew how weary Dane must be, for he had merely pressed her hand as she left his side. She thought of that terrible journey through the forest, and the fight Dane had made to reach the camp. At first he had helped her along the trail, but when she could go no farther he had carried her like a child in his strong arms. She understood something of what that meant, and she had pleaded with him to leave her and save himself. But he had laughed at her, saying that she was not nearly as heavy as his pack and musket which he had thrown aside. But he could not deceive her, for she knew by his hard breathing, and the way he at times staggered from side to side how great was the strain upon his almost giant strength. She thought of all this as she lay there. But the bed was comfortable, the roar of the wind among the trees most lulling, and ere long she was fast asleep.
And while the two tired ones slept Old Dennis kept faithful watch. He sat before the fire smoking his black stub of a pipe, and listening intently for the return of the mast-cutters. He had no doubt about the defeat of the slashers, and a smile overspread his furrowed face as he thought of the surprise in store for them.
During the night the storm beat itself out, the wind fell, and a great peace rested upon the snow-enshrouded forest. As the dawn of a new day stole gently over the land the mast-cutters returned, bringing with them the rebel prisoners. The noise of their arrival awoke Dane, who sprang from his bunk greatly refreshed after his sound sleep. Then from the leader of the mast-cutters he learned the story of the round-up of the slashers. They were taken in a narrow valley, and after several had fallen, the rest surrendered.