I

Really in the Woods

“Ye seem to waste a powerful lot o’ time goin’ up an’ down to yer camp; why don’t ye stay thayer altogether?” said Raften one day, in the colourless style that always worried every one, for they did not know whether it was really meant or was mere sarcasm.

“Suits me.  ’Tain’t our choice to come home,” replied his son.

“We’d like nothing better than to sleep there, too,” said Yan.

“Well, why don’t ye?  That’s what I’d do if I was a boy playin’ Injun; I’d go right in an’ play.”

“All right now,” drawled Sam (he always drawled in proportion to his emphasis), “that suits us; now we’re a-going sure.”

“All right, bhoys,” said Raften; “but mind ye the pigs an’ cattle’s to be ’tended to every day.”

“Is that what ye call lettin’ us camp out—­come home to work jest the same?”

“No, no, William,” interposed Mrs. Raften; “that’s not fair.  That’s no way to give them a holiday.  Either do it or don’t.  Surely one of the men can do the chores for a month.”

“Month—­I didn’t say nothin’ about a month.”

“Well, why don’t you now?”

“Whoi, a month would land us into harvest,” and William had the air of a man at bay, finding them all against him.

“I’ll do Yahn’s chores for a fortnight if he’ll give me that thayer pictur he drawed of the place,” now came in Michel’s voice from the far end of the table—­“except Sunday,” he added, remembering a standing engagement, which promised to result in something of vast importance to him.

“Wall, I’ll take care o’ them Sundays,” said Si Lee.

“Yer all agin me,” grumbled William with comical perplexity.  “But bhoys ought to be bhoys.  Ye kin go.”

“Whoop!” yelled Sam.

“Hooray!” joined in Yan, with even more interest though with less unrestraint.

“But howld on, I ain’t through—­”

“I say, Da, we want your gun.  We can’t go camping without a gun.”

“Howld on, now.  Give me a chance to finish.  Ye can go fur two weeks, but ye got to go; no snakin’ home nights to sleep.  Ye can’t hev no matches an’ no gun.  I won’t hev a lot o’ children foolin’ wid a didn’t-know-it-was-loaded, an’ shootin’ all the birds and squirrels an’ each other, too.  Ye kin hev yer bows an’ arrows an’ ye ain’t likely to do no harrum.  Ye kin hev all the mate an’ bread an’ stuff ye want, but ye must cook it yerselves, an’ if I see any signs of settin’ the Woods afire I’ll be down wid the rawhoide an’ cut the very livers out o’ ye.”

The rest of the morning was devoted to preparation, Mrs. Raften taking the leading hand.

“Now, who’s to be cook?” she asked.

“Sam”—­“Yan”—­said the boys in the same breath.

“Hm!  You seem in one mind about it.  Suppose you take it turn and turn about—­Sam first day.”

Then followed instructions for making coffee in the morning, boiling potatoes, frying bacon.  Bread and butter enough they were to take with them—­eggs, too.