Slowly and tremblingly he approached the lodge, but saw none of its inmates.  The profound silence filled him with an ominous misgiving.  He paused and listened.  Not a breath was audible.  He stepped softly forward and cautiously peered in.  He saw Miss Prescott apparently asleep in one corner, and his wife trimming the fire.  Hans hesitated a moment, and no pen can describe or artist depict the shivering horror with which he stepped within the lodge.  His heart beat like a trip-hammer, and when his wife lifted her dark eyes upon him, he nearly fainted from excess of terror.  Great was his amazement, therefore, when, instead of rebukes and blows, she came smilingly forward and asked: 

“Has my husband been sick?”

That question explained everything.  Believing him to be sick, her feelings were not of wrath, but of solicitude.  Hans wiped the perspiration from his forehead and, hardly conscious of what he was doing, replied: 

“B’lieves I didn’t feel very much well—­kinder empty in de stomach as dough I’d like to have dinner.”

“You shall have it at once.”

Now, to insure the success of Hans Vanderbum’s plans, it was necessary that he should cook the fish, in order that he might find opportunity to mix the gum with it; but the wife, out of pure kindness refused to allow this.  He was taken all aback at this unfortunate slip in his programme.  By resorting again to intense thought, he hit upon an ingenious plan to outwit her, even at this disadvantage.  The children needed no commands to remain out doors.

The food was nicely cooking, when Hans started up as if alarmed.

“What’s the matter?” inquired his wife.

“I t’inks I hears some noise outside.  Hadn’t you better goes out, my dear, good, kind Keewaygooshturkumkankangewock, and see vot it is?”

The obliging woman instantly darted forward, and Hans proceeded to his task with such trembling eagerness that there was danger of its failure.  First flattening the gum between his thumb and finger, he dropped it upon one of the fish, where it instantly dissolved like butter.  He was busy stirring this, when his partner entered.

“Good man,” said she; “kind to Keewaygooshturkumkankangewock.”

Hans Vanderbum felt as if he were the greatest monster upon earth thus to deceive his trusting wife, and there was a perceptible tremor in his voice, as he replied: 

“I will tends to de fish.”

He saw that the gum had united thoroughly with the food, and then with a flushed face, he resigned his place to his wife.  The dinner, or more properly the supper, was soon completed, when Hans concluded that he was too unwell to eat anything.  The squaw was somewhat surprised when Miss Prescott, after being awakened from a feigned sleep, turned her head away from the tempting food in disgust.

“You sick too?” she asked.

“No—­no—­no,” shutting her eyes and turning her back upon her.