Scarcely had they arrived, however, before others came, some on foot, some horseback, and some in schooners with their wives and children.
Not one of the bachelors but brought some present, varying from baskets woven from scented grass to stuffed birds and furs for rugs and blankets.
“If we only had a couple more sisters, we wouldn’t be obliged to do a stroke of work, Phil,” laughed his brother.
But the men did not linger long at the camp. Taking their axes and saws, they went into the woods, and soon the air rang with the sounds of chopping and orders.
Making themselves perfectly at home, the women helped get the dinner, and merry was the midday meal.
When Andy announced that some of the men would remain at camp to prepare the foundations for the cabin, there was more jollification, for all demanded the privilege.
“Why not draw lots?” suggested Margie. Instantly there was a protest of “noes,” while others agreed. And the matter of selection was as difficult of solution as before until Ted, with Solomon-like wisdom, suggested:
“As we must have the foundations, why not let the married men fix them?”
Shouts of laughter and more protests greeted the idea, but it was finally adopted, the bachelors taking the horses to the woods to haul in the logs.
With so many to help, the ground was soon leveled, the ground timbers placed, and nighttime found the floor laid.