After supper was over, Lance showed George into a room with one of the gigantic four-posters in it. The floor was covered with bear-skins, and Billy was instructed to roll himself up in them for a bed, which he did with much satisfaction, with Rattler on top of him, as soon as George was in bed, which was not long in being accomplished.
Next morning George was up and around early, looking about the place. He had never seen the mountains before, and was deeply impressed by their grandeur.
The scenery was even more striking in the blaze of the morning light than he had supposed. On every side, beyond the valley, giant peaks rose into the blue air, covered with vegetation to the very top. He understood then the profusion of bear-skins in the house, and thought what fine sport might be had in tracking big game through the deep gorges and dark forests of the region. Lance came up to him as he stood on the broad stone steps drinking in the wild beauty of the scene, and inhaling the keen sharp air, so unlike the softness of the lowland atmosphere.
"There is great sport hereabouts, Lance," cried George.
"Yes, sir; bears and Injuns, mostly—and rattlesnakes in season. Did you ever eat bear-meat, Mr. Washington?"
"No," answered George; "but I have been told it is fine. And how about the Indians?" he asked, smiling.
"Injuns and rattlesnakes have their seasons together," answered Lance, with a grim smile, in reply. "They and their French friends generally keep pretty close this time of year. I don't know which I would rather receive—the French and Injuns coming as friends or enemies. Sometimes half a dozen of 'em turn up, usually in the summer, the French always pretending to be traders, or something of that sort, and they bring two or three Injun bucks with them—to carry their luggage, they say: but who ever saw an Injun carrying anything but a firelock—if he can get one? They always profess to belong to a peaceable tribe; but that's all in my eye, sir. They hang about for a day or two, asking for fresh meat or vegetables, and making out that they don't know how to get across the mountains, and all the time the French are drawing maps in their note-books, and the Injuns making maps in their heads; for, Mr. Washington, your Injun is full of horse-sense about some things. He can't look ahead, or plan, or wait—all the Injuns in North America couldn't have taken Bouchain—but for killing people quick and sure, I don't know of any soldiers quite so good as Injuns. The French, sir, have a regular plan in all their expeditions here. The last party that turned up got me talking about the way we had repulsed the redskins—for we have stood a siege or two, sir. For answer I took the Frenchmen inside the house. I showed them that we had water, the source of which was hidden; I showed them a regular magazine, all bricked up in the cellar, and an arsenal next my lord's room, and another cellar-room full of dried provisions; and then I showed them two swivels, with a plenty of suitable shot, and I said to them, very plain spoken:
"'If you come to Greenway Court, you'll have to bring artillery with you; you can't starve us out, and to take it will cost you more than it comes to.'
"So I think the Frenchies know better than to trouble us. But I am not so sure of the Injuns. They have not good heads on their shoulders about campaigns, and they don't see that it is not worth their while to trouble us; and I would not be surprised any night to find a lot of skulking savages around here, trying to burn us out."
George was deeply interested in this account, but at that moment breakfast was announced, and he went in-doors.