"Yes, if he could not swim."
"He is too young to swim. But you are wet," added the Indian, noticing for the first time the condition of Ernest's clothes.
"Yes, a little."
"Come in," said the Indian abruptly.
He led the way into the log cabin.
There was a stove in the centre of the room, and the air was so heated as to be uncomfortable. As he led the child in, a stout Indian woman came forward with a cry and took him in her arms. Her husband rapidly explained what had happened. She instantly stripped the clothes from the child, and put on a dry change.
"Now," said the Indian, turning to Ernest, "take off your wet clothes."
Though Ernest knew that it was wise to do so, he felt bashful about removing them in presence of the woman. But his Indian host brought from a nail, on which they hung, a pair of buckskin breeches of his own, and offered them to Ernest for his temporary use.
Ernest no longer hesitated, but made the substitution.
As the Indian was four or five inches taller than himself, the legs covered his feet. He laughed as he saw how they looked, and the Indian's serious face relaxed a little from the same cause.