(still looking at the fire).
You have a shrewd fire, and the air is chill in these mountains.

WASHINGTON.
Will you not have some bacon and bread? I wish there were more to offer
you.

RED ROWAN.
I'll have a taste of the bacon and a morsel of bread. (Washington
begins to prepare them). I thank you.

WASHINGTON
(toasting bread and bacon). The wilderness must be rough-seeming to
you.

RED ROWAN.
I'm well-used to deep forests and long, hard journeys, for the love of
a trail is in my blood. My grandfather was a gentleman rover, and my
father a frontiersman, and my mother was--a gipsy.

WASHINGTON
(surprised).
A gipsy?

RED ROWAN
(nodding).
Aye, but she died when I was little, and lies buried oversea. 'Tis ten
years now since my father came from England, and brought me with him.

WASHINGTON.