PAGE 9
Who Was He?
by
The preparations for the forthcoming repast went forward rapidly. The pool kept its reputation good and yielded abundantly to the solicitation of Herbert’s flies. The trout were large and in excellent condition and were quickly made ready for the trapper’s treatment. A large piece of bark, peeled from a giant spruce standing near, and laid upon the ground, served for the table,–against the dark bark of which the tin dishes freshly scoured in the sand of the beach gleamed bright. The venison and trout were cooked as only one accustomed to the woods can do it, and the trapper contemplated the work of his skill with pleased complacency. At each plate Herbert had placed a bunch of checkerberries, and a small bouquet of small but exceedingly fragrant flowers adorned the centre of the bark table.
At this moment the man and girl drew near.
“I trust,” said the man, as they approached, “that we have not kept you waiting by our tardiness?”
“Yer comin’ be true to a minit,” answered the trapper, glancing up at the western mountain, the top of whose pines the lower edge of the sun had just touched. “The meat be ready. We sartinly can’t boast of the bark or the dishes,” he continued, “but the victuals be as good as natur’ allows, and yer welcome be hearty.”
“We could ask no more,” said the man, courteously, “and one might almost think that the hand of woman had adorned the table.”
“The posies be the boy’s doin’,” replied the trapper, glancing at Herbert; “he has a likin’ for their color and smell, and I never knowed him to eat without a green sprig or a bunch of bright moss or some sech thing on the bark.”
“I am sure I do not like them any better than you do,” answered Herbert, smiling, and looking pleasantly into the old man’s face.
“They be of the Lord’s makin’,” responded the trapper. “They be of the Lord’s makin’, and it be fit thet mortals should love ’em, as I conceit. I’ve lived a good deal alone,” he continued, “but I’ve never lived in a cabin yit that didn’t have a few leetle flowers, or a tuft of grass, or a speck of green somewhere about it. They sort of make company for a man in the winter evenin’s, and keep his thoughts in cheerful directions.”
“Your sentiments do honor to your nature,” responded the other, “and I am glad to meet with one of your age, who, having lived among the beauties of Nature, has not allowed them to become commonplace and unworthy of notice. Many in the cities show less refinement.”
“I conceit it is a good deal in the breedin’,” answered the trapper. “There be some that don’t know good from evil in natur’,–leastwise, they don’t seem to have any eyes to note the difference; and what isn’t born in a man or a dog you can’t edicate into him. The breedin’ settles more p’ints that the missioners dream, as I jedge. But come, friends, the victuals be coolin’, and the mouth loves a warm morsel.”
“I am certain,” said the man, as they were partaking of the repast, “that I never tasted a piece of venison so finely flavored before.”
“I’ve cooked the meat for nigh on to sixty year,” answered the trapper, “and have larnt not to spoil the sweetness of natur’ by overdoin’ it. It’s a quick aim that brings the buck to the camp, and a quick fire that puts the steak on to the plate ready for the mouth.–trust, lady, that ye enjoy the victuals?”
“I do, indeed,” answered the girl, “and if the cooking were less perfect, I should count this as a feast.”
“Yis, yis; I understand ye,” answered the old man. “The sound of the tumblin’ water be pleasant, and the eye eats with the mouth,” and he glanced at the green woods that stretched away, and the brightly-colored clouds that hung like fleece of gold in the western sky.