Do ye know how to make a
bed?"
"Don't know a thing," and Sam winked at Yan. "Show us."
"I'll show ye the rale thing. Where's the axe?"
"Haven't any," said Yan. "There's a big tomahawk and a little
tomahawk."
Raften grinned, took the big "tomahawk" and pointed to a small Balsam
Fir. "Now there's a foine bed-tree."
"Why, that's a fire-tree, too," said Yan, as with two mighty strokes
Raften sent it toppling down, then rapidly trimmed it of its flat
green boughs. A few more strokes brought down a smooth young Ash and
cut it into four pieces, two of them seven feet long and two of them
five feet. Next he cut a White Oak sapling and made four sharp pegs
each two feet long.
"Now, boys, whayer do you want yer bed?" then stopping at a thought
he added, "Maybe ye didn't want me to help--want to do everything
yerselves?"
"Ugh, bully good squaw. Keep it up--wagh!" said his son and heir, as
he calmly sat on a log and wore his most "Injun brave" expression of
haughty approval.
The father turned with an inquiring glance to Yan, who replied:
"We're mighty glad of your help. You see, we don't know how. It seems
to me that I read once the best place in the teepee is opposite the
door and a little to one side.
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