"It's a dance 'bout de fire, Cun'l," the old woman explained. "De young folks hab been plannin' all dis bressed day to s'prize Missie Jean an' Mistah Dane t'night. Dey's been cookin' an' cookin', an' whisperin' mysterious like, an' laffin' an' laffin' to split dere sides."
"What about?"
"Why, doan yo' know, Cun'l?" and Mammy looked her surprise. "Jes as soon as de young folks heard de news 'bout Missie Jean an' Mistah Dane dey made plans to cel'brate, so dat's what dey's doin' now. An' listen, Cun'l, to de music. Simon's settin' on a log, playin' fo' all he's worf, an' de young folks is a dancin'. Yo' bett'r come an' see fo' yo' set."
"I can see from where I am, Mammy, if you will move aside," was the reply. "I can't see very well through you."
With the woman's bulky body out of the way, the Colonel was enabled to view all that was taking place near the shore. The fire lighted up the ground for a considerable distance, so he could see the young people moving to and fro, and hear their chatter and happy laughter. And in their midst were Jean and Dane, the happiest of all. Occasionally a young man would throw some wood, or a great root upon the fire. As the flames leaped up anew, and masses of sparks were hurled in all directions, shouts of merriment ascended, followed by shrieks of laughter as the maidens fled from the falling, fiery shower. The Colonel smiled as he watched the merrymakers. He liked to see them happy. Their sojourn in the wilderness had not dampened their spirits, and he knew that such people were the right pioneers for a new land.
Jean and Dane thoroughly enjoyed themselves. They were pleased at the interest taken on their behalf, and entered heartily into the spirit of the gathering. As the evening wore on, and the dancing subsided, they gathered in little groups around the fire, far enough away to escape the intense heat. And here upon the ground they sat while the good things which had been cooked that day were passed around. Then it was that the older members of the settlement came to partake of the repast. Several jugs containing West India spirits were produced, and all drank to the health of the young couple they delighted to honour. The use of this beverage was almost universal, being dispensed as an ordinary act of hospitality, and no festive occasion was considered complete without the flowing cup. Snuff-boxes were then brought forth, and their contents liberally sampled, while those who smoked filled their piles and lighted them with small burning embers. Snuff, like Jamaica spirits and New England rum, was in more general use than tobacco. Various were the shapes and designs of the snuff-boxes, some being of considerable value. They were carried in the pockets, and two men meeting would exchange whiffs as a matter of course. True hospitality was deemed lacking where the friendly box was not passed around. It was the custom, and custom makes all things proper.
While this genial spirit of contentment and good will prevailed around the fire, a tall Indian stood within the shadow of the forest, and watched the scene with much interest and curiosity. At length he stepped forth into the flame-lit circle, and walked deliberately over to where Dane was seated. His presence was at once noted, and a sudden hush fell upon the gathering.
"Hello, Pete!" Dane exclaimed in surprise. "Where have you come from, and what do you want?"
The native replied in the deep guttural Indian tongue, and what he said caused Dane to start, while an expression of anxiety overspread his face. He asked a question in the same language, with which he was quite familiar, and when it had been answered, he turned to the intensely interested group around him.
"I am sorry to have to leave you," he announced, "but I must go at once, as I am needed up river."