"Oh, ma mere!" he cried, "I've seen Redbud, and had such a fine time, and I'm so happy! I'm hungry, too; and so is this honest fellow with the pack. There go the steaks!"
And Verty threw them on the gridiron, and burst out laughing.
In a quarter of an hour they were placed on the rude table, and the three persons sat down—Verty laughing, the old woman smiling at him, the pedlar sullen and omnivorous.
After devouring everything on the table, the worthy took his departure with his pack upon his shoulders.
"I don't like that man, but let him go," said Verty. "Now, ma mere,
I'm going out to hunt a bit for you."
The old woman gazed fondly on him, and this was all Verty needed. He rose, called the dogs, and loaded his gun.
"Good-bye, ma mere" he said, going out; "don't let any more of these pedlar people come here. I feel as if that one who has just gone away, had done me some harm. Come, Longears! come, Wolf!"
And Verty took his way through the forest, still humming his low,
Indian song.