“Wall, I guess it wor a bad business that—worn’t it, missus?”
“It was,” responded Mrs Gore; and, feeling that she had no hope of meeting with sympathy from Jeff, she relapsed into silence. After a time, she said—
“But we must get up a feast, Jeff. It won’t do to let New Year’s day pass without a good dinner.”
“That’s true as gosp’l,” said Jeff. “Feed up is my motto, always. It don’t much matter wot turns up, if ye don’t feed up yer fit for nothin’; but, contrairy-wise, if ye do feed up, why yer ready for anythin’ or nothin’, as the case may be.”
Having given vent to this sentiment, Jeff finished his meal with a prolonged draught of tea.
“Wall, now,” said he, filling his pipe, “we’ve got enough o’ deer’s meat an’ other things to make a pretty fair feast, missus, but my comrades and we will go an’ try to git somethin’ fresh for dinner. If we git nothin’ else we’ll git a appetite and that’s worth a good long march any day; so, lads, if—”
Jeff’s speech was interrupted here by a sudden and tremendous outburst of barking on the part of the dogs of the establishment. He sprang up and hastened to the door, followed by his companions and Mrs Gore.
“Injuns, mayhap; see to your guns, boys, we can niver be sure o’ the reptiles.”
“They’re friendly,” observed one of Jeff’s friends, as they stood at the Fort gate; “enemies never come on in that straightforward fashion.”
“Not so sure o’ that,” said Jeff. “I’ve seen redskins do somethin’ o’ that kind when they meant mischief; but, if my eyes ain’t telling lies, I’d say there were white men there.”