There's plenty o' live coals under the venison rack, I guess."

They set out rather late that morning. As usual, Joe stood by the head of
Colonel while the latter lapped brown sugar from the timid palm of the
boy. Then the horse was wont to touch the face of Joe with his big, hairy
lips as a tribute to his generosity. Colonel had seemed to acquire a
singular attachment for the boy and the dog, while Pete distrusted both
of them. He had never a moment's leisure, anyhow, being always busy with
his work or the flies. A few breaks in the pack basket had been repaired
with green withes. It creaked with its load of jerked venison when put
aboard. The meat of the bear was nicely wrapped in his hide and placed
beside it. They sold meat and hide and bounty rights in the next village
they reached for thirty long shillings.

"That cheers up the ol' weasel," Samson declared, as they went on.

"He got a hard knock after we met the Brimsteads," said Sarah.

"Yes, ma'am! and I'm not sorry either. He's got to come out of his hole
once in a while. I tell ye God kind o' spoke to us back there in No Santa
Claus Land. He kind o' spoke to us."

After a little silence, Sarah said: "I guess He's apt to speak in the
voices of little children."

His weasel was a dried pig's bladder of unusual size in which he carried
his money. Samson had brought with him a fairly good quantity of money
for those days. In a smaller bladder he carried his tobacco.

Farther on the boy got a sore throat. Sarah bound a slice of pork around