"You mean the Chasseurs from Buck Island," said I, "the Hessians!"
But she did not know, only that they wore gray and green clothing and were tall, ruddy men—taller for the odd caps they wore, and their long legs buttoned in black to the hips.
"Hessians," I repeated. "Hainault riflemen hired out to the King of England by their greedy and contemptible German master and by that great ass, George Third, shipped hither to stir in us Americans a hatred for himself that never shall be extinguished!"
"Are their scalps well haired?" inquired Tahioni anxiously.
It seemed a ludicrous thing to say, and I was put to it to stifle my sudden mirth.
"They wear pig-tails in eel-skins, and stiffened with pomade that stinks from New York to Albany," said I.
Then my mood sobered again; and I thought of Penelope's vision and wondered whether I was truly fated to meet my end in combat with these dogs of Germans.
The Screech-owl had made a fire. Also, before my arrival he had killed an August doe, and a haunch was now a-roasting and filling my nostrils with a pleasant odour.
We spread our blankets and ate our parched corn, watching our meat cooking.