CHAPTER X.
A DAY ON THE LAKE.--PART I.
When we reached the grove, I left Jessie in the canoe, and went up to
the house in search of her sister. Jackson and Peter were sitting on
the wood-pile; the latter was smoking his pipe, and the other held his
in his hand, as he was relating some story of his exploits in Spain.
When I approached, he rose up and saluted me in his usual formal
manner.
"Where is the doctor," said I, "and the rest of the party?"
"Gone to see a tame moose of his, Sir," he said, "in the pasture; but
they will be back directly."
"Well," sais I, lighting a cigar by Peter's pipe, and taking a seat
alongside of him, "go on Jackson; don't let me interrupt you."
"I was just telling Mr McDonald, Sir," said he, "of a night I once
spent on the field of battle in Spain."
"Well, go on."
"As I was a saying to him, Sir," he continued, "you could ear the
wolves among the dead and the dying a owling like so many devils. I
was afraid to go to sleep, as I didn't know when my turn might come;
so I put my carbine across my knees, and sat up as well as I could,
determined to sell my life as dearly as possible, but I was so weak
from the loss of blood, that I kept dozing and starting all the time
amost. Oh, what a tedious night that was, Sir, and how I longed for
the dawn of day, when search should be made among us for the wounded!
Just as the fog began to rise, I saw a henormous wolf, about a hundred
yards or so from me, busy tearing a body to pieces; and taking a good
steady haim at him, I fired, when he called out:
"'Blood and ounds! you cowardly furrin rascal, haven't you had your
belly-full of fighting yet, that you must be after murthering a
wounded man that way? By the powers of Moll Kelly, but you won't serve
Pat Kallahan that dirty trick again anyhow.
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