Percy rose to his feet, and for half an hour we sat still while he made tea and cooked steaks of deer-meat enough for us all. Bread we already had in plenty, for only the day before he had made a batch large enough to last us until our journey’s end, as he supposed. He had not reckoned upon entertaining two uninvited guests.
Squeaky was a methodical rascal; we could not help admiring the orderly manner in which he conducted this affair. He must have thought out all the details beforehand; or else he had been engaged in a similar transaction on some previous occasion. As soon as the simple supper was ready he proceeded again to issue his orders.
“Cook,” said he, “feed your friends.”
Percy brought our suppers to Jack and me and set them down before us.
“Get your own share, and come and sit down again.”
Percy did so.
“Pardner, help yourself.”
We four having eaten our supper, Bates, at the command of his leader, once more took up his station behind us, while Squeaky helped himself to something to eat. Kneeling on his right knee, his rifle held ready for use in his left hand, he took a large piece of meat from the frying-pan, and holding it in his fingers he tore big fragments from it with his teeth; all the time keeping his watchful little eyes upon us. He reminded me of the Mississippi steamboat-mate, in that he resembled a dog engaged with a bone, who suspects that some other dog might like a share of it.
“Now, cook,” said he, as he wiped his greasy fingers upon his trouser-leg, “you can wash up; I guess you may as well help him”—nodding at me.
“Finished?” inquired the systematic villain, as soon as the culinary operations had been completed. “Well, then, just you sit down again, close together. I want to have a little talk with you. Pardner, stand a little way off from the end of the row, so as you can rake ’em if desirable.”