The whole family were in high spirits, and their camp that night was made with more comfort and permanence than any camp they had yet had.
Four young saplings were dragged out of the dead timber along the stream, and cut into lengths of the proper height for a table, and these were driven firmly into the ground. Upon them Joe nailed a few saplings crosswise, and over these was fastened a strong piece of canvas. Upon this canvas the children piled wet sand from the river bottom, patting it down and making a firm, level surface. When it was dry the oil-cloth was tacked over it, making an excellent substitute for a "boughten" table. Stakes were driven into the ground on either side of the table and more fallen saplings nailed upon them, and when the family sat down to their evening meal it was once more at a table with comfortable seats and a place to enjoy their meal without the discomfort of cramped legs or the disturbing inroads of bugs and ants.
In the shade near by they drove stakes in the ground (always taking care to select only dead and broken timber, for a tree had become too rare and precious a thing for them to sacrifice willingly), and over it they stretched a tarpaulin, making a shelter to serve as a kitchen. Joe and Lige constructed a fireplace and oven near by of small round stones from the bed of the stream, and fixed a firm and level place on a rock to set up the stove. Around it they nailed small boxes and receptacles for the cooking utensils, and set two packing-cases on end with a calico curtain before them to serve as a china-closet, and Mrs. Peniman speedily emptied a packing-case and set it up in the improvised kitchen to use as a kitchen table.
"It will take some time to build our house," she said brightly as she hurried about getting her new cooking-place in order, "and we might as well be as comfortable as we can until it is done."
The family, tired enough of living in the cramped space of the wagons, readily agreed to this, and the next day was spent unloading the wagons, unpacking boxes, and making their temporary home as comfortable and convenient as possible.
When the comfort of the family had been looked after Mr. Peniman turned his attention to the animals.
The little pigs had grown and thriven so, even under the hard conditions that had beset the rest of the travelers, that they were now entirely too big for their box, and squealed their protest continually.
They had long ago outgrown the necessity of bottle-feeding and took their sustenance out of a pan like regular porkers.
Joe and Lige found their father, late in the afternoon, standing beside the box looking down at the little squealers with a speculative expression.
"I was thinking," he said as they approached him, "that we must provide better quarters for Romeo and Juliet. They've outgrown their box, and I don't see that we can spare them another. They ought to have more room."