“I’m willing,” replied Sneak, lazily, as his eyes gradually closed.
Joe placed his dish on the shelf over the fireplace, and folding his arms, and leaning back in his great chair, likewise closed his eyes.
But a few moments sufficed to place them both in the land of dreams. And now the silence was intense. Even the consuming logs of wood seemed to sink by degrees into huge livid coals, without emitting the least sparkling sound. The embers threw a dim glare over the scene, such as Queen Mab delights in when she leads her fairy train through the chambers of sleeping mortals. A sweet smile rested upon the lips of Mary. A loved form flitted athwart her visions. Roughgrove’s features wore a grave but placid cast. Boone’s face was as passionless and calm as if he were a stranger to terrific strife. Perils could now make no impression on him. There was sadness on the damp brow of Glenn, and a tear was stealing through the corner of his lids. A scene of woe, or the crush of cherished hopes, was passing before his entranced vision. Sneak, ever and anon grasped the empty air, and motioned his arm, as if in the midst of deadly conflict. And Joe, though his bruised face betrayed not his cast of thought, still evinced a participation in the ideal transactions of the night, by the frequent involuntary motions of his body, and repeated endeavours to avoid visionary dangers.
The kitten lay upon the soft neck of the fawn, and at intervals resumed its low, humming song, which had more than once been hushed in perfect repose. At a late hour, or rather an early one, just ere the first faint ray of morning appeared in the distant east, puss purred rather harshly on the silken ears of its companion, and its sharp claws producing a stinging sensation, the fawn shook its head violently, and threw its little bed-fellow rather rudely several feet away. The kitten, instead of being angry, fell into a merry mood, and began to frisk about in divers directions, first running under the bed, then springing upon some diminutive object on the floor as it would upon a mouse, and finally pricking again the ear of the fawn. The fawn then rose up, and creeping gently about the room, touched the cheeks or hands of the slumbering inmates with its velvet tongue, but so softly that none were awakened. The kitten, no longer able to annoy its companion by its mischievous pranks, now paced up to the fire and commenced playing with a dangling string attached to Joe’s moccasin. Once it jumped up with such force against his foot that he jerked it quickly several inches away. But this only diverted puss the more. Instead of being content with the palpable demonstration thus effected, it followed up the advantage gained by applying both its claws and teeth to the foot. While it confined its operations to the stout buckskin, but little impression was made; but when it came in contact with the ankle, which was only covered with a yarn stocking, the result was entirely different.
“Ugh! Confound the fire!” exclaimed Joe, giving a tremendous kick, which dashed puss most violently into Sneak’s face.
“Hey! Dod! What is it?” cried Sneak, tearing the kitten (whose briery nails had penetrated the skin of his nose) away, and throwing it across the room. “I say! did you do that?” continued Sneak, wiping the blood from his nose with his sleeve, and addressing Joe, who kept his eyes fast closed, though almost bursting with suppressed laughter, and pretending to be steeped in earnest slumber. “I won’t stand this!” said Sneak, smarting with his wounds, and striking the chair in which Joe sat with his foot. “Now,” continued Sneak, “if you done that, jest say so, that’s all.”
“Did what?” asked Joe, opening his eyes suddenly.
“Why, throwed that ere pestiverous cat on me!” said Sneak.
“No. Goodness! is there a pole-cat in here?” exclaimed Joe, in such well-counterfeited tones of anxiety and alarm, that the real encounter occurring to Sneak, and his pain being now somewhat abated, he gave vent to a hearty fit of laughter, which awoke every person in the house.