Here was a predicament! A few hours before we had thought ourselves uncomfortable enough, because some of our horses were missing. Now, a greater evil had befallen us. The wagon was in the river, the harness cut to pieces, and, what was worse, carried off in the most independent manner, by Tom and his companion; the pole was twisted to pieces, and there was not so much as a stick on that side of the river with which to replace it.
At this moment, a whoop from the opposite bank, echoed by two or three hearty ones from our party, announced the reappearance of Petaille Grignon. He dismounted and took charge of the horses, who were resting themselves after their fatigues under a shady tree, and by this time Lecuyer had crossed the river and now joined him in bringing back the delinquents.
In the meantime we had been doing our best to minister to our sister Margaret. Both she and her little son Edwin had been in the wagon at the time of the accident, and it had been a work of some difficulty to get them out and bring them on horseback to shore. The effect of the agitation and excitement was to throw her into a fit of the ague, and she now lay blue and trembling among the long grass of the little prairie, which extended along the bank. The tent, which had been packed in the rear of the wagon, was too much saturated with mud and water to admit of its being used as a shelter; it could only be stretched in the sun to dry. We opened an umbrella over our poor sister’s head, and now began a discussion of ways and means to repair damages. The first thing was to cut a new pole for the wagon, and for this, the master and men must recross the river and choose an iron-tree out of the forest.
Then, for the harness. With provident care, a little box had been placed under the seat of the wagon, containing an awl, waxed-ends, and various other little conveniences exactly suited to an emergency like the present.
It was question and answer, like Cock Robin:
“Who can mend the harness?”
“I can, for I learned when I was a young girl to make shoes as an accomplishment, and I can surely now, as a matter of usefulness and duty, put all those wet, dirty pieces of leather together.”
So, we all seated ourselves on the grass, under the shade of the only two umbrellas we could muster.
I stitched away diligently, blistering my hands, I must own, in no small degree.
A suitable young tree had been brought, and the hatchets, without which one never travels in the woods, were all busy, fashioning it into shape, when a peculiar hissing noise was heard, and instantly the cry,