It was strange, too, was it not, that the hunter himself, who was already almost exhausted by the cold and exposure that he had suffered during the day, should be willing to go forth again into the storm, for a child that had never done any thing for him, and was utterly unable to do any thing for him now? Besides, by saving the child’s life, he was only compelling himself to work the harder, to procure food and clothing for him while he was growing up to be a man.
What was the baby’s name?
His name was Jooly.
At least they called him Jooly. His real name was Julien.
The hunter bids little Jooly good-by.
When the hunter was all ready to go, he came to the cradle, and, putting his great rough and shaggy hand upon the baby’s wrist, he said,
“Poor little Jooly! I will get the doctor himself to come and see you, if I can.”
So he opened the door and went out, leaving Jooly’s grandmother rocking the cradle, and his mother at work about the room as before.
When the hunter had gone out and shut the door, he went along the side of the house till he came to a small door leading to his cow-house, which was a sort of small barn.