“Ah!  Do you think so?” cried Maggie, resting her fists on her hips.  “Ah, ha, ha!” That was the first time I ever heard her laugh—­and such a laugh!  “Don’t you know, my dear sir, that at one turn of my hand this dog will strangle you like a chicken?  Don’t you see four of us here armed to the teeth, and at another signal our comrades yonder ready to join us in an instant?  And besides, this minute they are rolling a little cannon up to the bow of the boat.  Go, meddle with them, you’ll see.”  She lied, but her lie averted the attack.  She quietly sat down again and paid the scoundrel not the least attention.

“And that’s the way you pay us for taking you in, is it?  Accuse a man of crime because he steps out of his own house to look at the weather?  Well, that’s all right.”  While the man spoke he put his gun into a corner, resumed his seat, and lighted a cob pipe.  The son had leaned on his gun during the colloquy.  Now he put it aside and lay down upon the floor to sleep.  The awakened children slept.  Maggie sat and smoked.  My father, Joseph, and ’Tino talked in low tones.  All at once the old ruffian took his pipe from his mouth and turned to my father.

“Where do you come from?”

“From New Orleans, sir.”

“How long have you been on the way?”

“About a month.”

“And where are you going,” etc.  Joseph, like papa, remained awake, but like him, like all of us, longed with all his soul for the end of that night of horror.

At the first crowing of the cock the denizens of the hut were astir.  The father and son took their guns and went into the forest.  The fire was relighted.  The woman washed some hominy in a pail and seemed to have forgotten our presence; but the little girl recognized Alix, who took from her own neck a bright silk handkerchief and tied it over the child’s head, put a dollar in her hand, and kissed her forehead.  Then it was Suzanne’s turn.  She covered her with kisses.  The little one laughed, and showed the turban and the silver that “the pretty lady,” she said, had given her.  Next, my sister dropped, one by one, upon the pallet ten dollars, amazing the child with these playthings; and then she took off her red belt and put it about her little pet’s neck.

My father handed me a handful of silver.  “They are very poor, my daughter; pay them well for their hospitality.”  As I approached the woman I heard Joseph thank her and offer her money.

“What do you want me to do with that?” she said, pushing my hand away.  “Instead of that, send me some coffee and tobacco.”

That ended it; I could not pay in money.  But when I looked at the poor woman’s dress so ragged and torn, I took off [J’autai] my shawl, which was large and warm, and put it on her shoulders,—­I had another in the boat,—­and she was well content.  When I got back to the flatboat I sent her some chemises, petticoats, stockings, and a pair of shoes.  The shoes were papa’s.  Alix