sat on his right hand,
then at March, who sat on his left, and then at the iron pot which sat
or stood between his knees, and into which he was about to plunge a
large wooden ladle.

"There's worse things than buffalo-beef-bergoo, March, an't there? Ha,
ha! my lad, tuck that under yer belt; it'll put the sore bones right
faster than physic. Mary, my little pet lamb, here's a marrow-bone;
come, yer growin', an' ye can't grow right if ye don't eat plenty o'
meat and marrow-bones; there," he said, placing the bone in question on
her pewter plate. "Ah! Mary, lass, ye've been mixin' the victuals.
Why, what have we here?"

"Moose nose," replied the girl with a look of pleasure.

"I do b'lieve--so it is! Why, where got ye it? I han't killed a moose
for three weeks an' more."

"Me kill him meself," said Mary.

"You!"

"Ay, me! with me own gun, too!"

"Capital!" cried Dick, tossing back his heavy locks, and gazing at the
child with proud delight. "Yer a most fit an' proper darter for the
Wild--a--_ho_!" sneezed Dick, with sudden violence, while Mary glanced
quickly up and opened her eyes very wide. "Whisst--to--a--hah! whew!
wot a tickler! I raally think the mountain air's a-goin' to make me
subjick to catchin' colds."

March took no notice of the remark. His attention was at that moment
divided between Mary's eyes and a marrow-bone.

There is no accounting for the besotted stupidity at this time of March
Marston, who was naturally quick-witted, unless upon the principle that
prejudice renders a man utterly blind. A hundred glaring and obvious
facts, incidents, words, and looks, ought to have enlightened him as to
who his new friend Dick really was. But his mind was so thoroughly
imbued, so saturated, with the preconceived notion of the Wild Man of
the West being a huge, ferocious, ugly monster, all over red, or perhaps
blue, hair, from the eyes to the toes, with canine teeth, and, very
probably, a tail, that unintentional hints and suggestive facts were
totally thrown away upon him. The fact is, that if Dick had at that
moment looked him full in the face and said, "_I'm_ the Wild Man of the
West," March would have said he didn't believe it!

"How came ye by the iron pot?" inquired March suddenly, as the sight of
that vessel changed the current of his thoughts.

Dick's countenance became grave, and Mary's eyes dropped.

"I'll tell ye some other time," said the former quietly; "not now--not
now. Come