"He is dead, sir," I replied, gloomily enough, for the scene reminded me very strongly of Matt, and this was the first time I had been called upon to make a bargain myself.
"Dead! I am sorry for that. When did he die?" added the captain, with an appearance of real regret.
"He was shot by the Indians four days ago."
"Shot! Well, that's too bad."
"I wish you would tell the commander of the fort above all about it."
"I will, certainly. But what do you ask for wood?"
"Matt Rockwood said he must have four dollars a cord now, for we have to haul it farther than we used to," I replied.
"That's rather high."
But I stuck to the price which Matt had fixed, and the captain finally agreed to it, though it was more than we had ever charged before. We measured off twenty cords, and the deck hands of the steamer began to carry it on board. While they were thus engaged, I told the captain all about our difficulty with the Indians, and he was confident that the commandant of the fort would send a force to chastise them.
While the boat was wooding up, the passengers went on shore, and walked in the woods to vary the monotony of the tedious voyage. Among them I observed a young lady of twelve or thirteen, the first I had ever seen in my life of the white race. I gazed at her with curiosity and interest, as she walked up the cart path towards the castle. She was alone, for the other passengers took the road on the bank of the brook. She was very prettily dressed, and the sight of her gave me a new sensation. I saw two ladies, but they were watching the labors of the deck hands, and did not leave the steamer.