The exclamations of delight, and the looks of admiration with which the glorious scene was greeted by the hunters when they came up, gratified the hearts of Roy and Nelly very much.
“Oh, how I wish mother was here to see it!” cried Nelly.
“Ain’t that a place for a king to live in, daddy?” said Roy, enthusiastically.
“So ’tis, lad, so ’tis—leastwise it’s a goodish spot for a hunter. How say you, Slugs?”
Slugs smiled grimly, and nodded his head.
“Would the red man like to pitch his wigwam there?” said Robin, addressing the Black Swan.
“He has pitched his wigwam here before,” replied the Black Swan softly. “When he first took the White Swan home to be his mate, he came to hunt here.”
“Och! is it the honeymoon ye spint here?” broke in Larry. “Faix, it’s a purty spot for courtin’, and no mistake. Is that a beehive over there?” he added, pointing across the lake.
“Why that’s our hut—our palace,” cried Nell, with gleeful look.
“Then the sooner we get down to it, and have supper, the better,” observed Walter, “for we’ll have to work hard to-morrow.”