He pined for the loving hand that used to pat
his sides, and caress his shaggy neck, and pillow his great head upon her
lap, or suffer him to put his huge paws upon her shoulders, while he licked
her hands and face; but she was gone, and the Indian girl was gone, and
the light of the shanty had gone with them. Old Wolfe seemed dying of
sorrow.
That evening as Jacob sat on the three-legged stool, smoking his short
Indian pipe, he again would have the whole story of their wanderings over,
and the history of all their doings and contrivances.
"And how far, mes enfans, do you think you are from the Cold Springs?"
"At least twenty miles, perhaps fifty, for it is a long long time now since
we left home, three summers ago."
"Well, boys, you must not reckon distance by the time you have been
absent," said the old "Now I know the distance through the woods, for I
have passed through them on the Indian trail, and by my reckoning as the
bee flies, it cannot be more than seven or eight miles--no, nor that
either."
The boys opened their eyes.
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