“Come, Peter,” said he, “I will show you where to turn in;” and returning, in a few minutes, with Jackson, desired him to attend the captain.
When we were alone, he said:
“Come this way, Mr Slick. Put your hat on—I want you to take a turn with me.”
And leading me down to the verge of the woods, where I saw a light, we entered a large bark wigwam, where he said he often slept during the hot weather.
It was not made in the usual conical form, but resembled a square tent, which among Indians generally indicates there is a large family, and that they propose to occupy the same spot for some time. In fact, it was half wigwam, half summer-house, resembling the former in appearance, construction, and material; but was floored on account of the damp ground, and contained a small table, two chairs, and a couple of rustic seats large enough to sleep upon, which, on the present occasion, had hunters’ beds on them. The tent, or more properly camp, as it is generally called here, was so contrived as to admit of the door being shifted according to the wind. On the present occasion, the opening was towards the lake, on which the moon was casting its silver light.
Here we sat till a late hour, discoursing, over our cigars, on a variety of subjects, the first and last of which topic was Jessie, who had, it appeared, at last accepted the Bachelor Beaver. Altogether, it was a charming visit; and left a most agreeable recollection of the enjoyment that is to be found in “a day and a night in the woods.”
[CHAPTER XII.]
THE BETROTHAL.
Early the following morning, just as the first dawn of day was streaking the eastern sky, Jackson’s bugle sounded the reveillé, and we were all soon on foot and in motion. The moose was lifted into the cart, and the boy despatched with it to the harbour, so as to have it in readiness for putting on board as soon as we should arrive, and a cup of coffee was prepared for us by Betty, as she said, to keep the cold out of our stomach while travelling. The doctor had some few arrangements to make for his voyage, and Cutler and I set out in advance, on foot. It was agreed that Ovey, Peter, and his daughters, should follow, as soon as possible, in the waggons, and breakfast with us on board of the Black Hawk.
“Mr Jackson,” said I, as I saw him standing at the door.
“Yes, Sir,” and he was at my side in a minute, and honoured me with one of his most gracious smiles, and respectful military salutes.