The welcome Oscar received from the captain's wife put him at his ease directly. She expressed the greatest surprise when he was introduced to her as the "American hunter," and made Oscar smile when she said, as she took both his hands in her own:
"My poor boy! Whatever could your dear mother have been thinking of when she gave her consent to this thing? Those fierce wild beasts out there in that dreadful country will eat you up at one mouthful."
Oscar found "the lodge" to be an elegant mansion, filled with costly furniture and pictures, and kept in order by a large number of servants, one of whom was directed to keep an eye on the guest and see that he did not want for anything. Every object in and about the building bore evidence of the wealth and taste of its owner.
The kennels were filled with hunting-dogs (the captain, who was an enthusiastic fox-hunter, was master of the Somerset hounds), and the stables contained more thoroughbred horses than any ordinary man could possibly have found use for.
The library was a perfect curiosity shop. The old soldier had industriously collected souvenirs of every country he had visited, and Oscar found there assegais, war clubs, skin cloaks, and elephants' tusks from Africa; buffalo and antelope heads and Indian bows and arrows from America; and the floor was covered with rugs made from the skins of the man-eating tigers that had fallen to the captain's rifle in the jungles of Hindustan.
Many of these articles were great curiosities, of course, but it was the captain's "battery" that occupied the most of Oscar's attention.
It was supported by deer's antlers that were fastened against the wall, and consisted of six double-barrelled rifles and one single rifle, carrying four bullets to the pound.
This was the captain's "elephant gun," the one with which he had secured the tusks that now adorned one of his cabinets and the rugs that covered the floor.
Besides these, there were three heavy double-barrelled shot-guns, making ten guns in all. The stocks of all of them were badly battered and scratched; some of the "grips" had been broken and mended with tin, and altogether the weapons looked as though they had received the hardest usage, as indeed they had.
As Oscar looked at them, he thought of his own modest "battery," and wondered what the old campaigner would say when he saw it.