He then pricked holes
all around the edges of the hide with the sharp point of his
hunting-knife, stretched it to its full extent, and fastened it to the
hoop, which he hung up to a tree near the settler's cabin, telling Neal
that in a few days it would be dry enough to pack away in a bag.
But as it was a cumbersome article to carry while tramping a dozen miles
farther to the camp on Millinokett Lake, the farmer offered to take
charge of it for its owner until he passed that way again on his return
journey; an offer which Neal thankfully accepted. The old backwoodsman
was, truth to tell, delighted to see hanging up near his cabin door the
skin of an enemy who had ofttimes plundered him so unmercifully.
He made the travellers royally welcome, let them have the roomy kitchen
of his log shanty to sleep in, with a soft bed of hay. Here he lay with
them, while his wife and sickly little girl occupied an adjoining space
about twelve feet square, which had been boarded off. This was all the
accommodation the log home afforded.
The forest child was a puzzle to the lads.
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