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John Whitefoot found that there was but little for him to do, and spent much of his time on the walls, watching the throwing up of works by the besiegers.
The little fellow drove the wagon under the shade of a tree; and very soon Whitefoot, finding himself at liberty, walked slowly off toward the lake, nibbling grass as he went. "Now," said papa, "you may walk about wherever you please. You are old enough to keep out of danger. When the men come with the oxen you will see them unload." "What are all those men doing, papa?"
"I don't see anything but an old nest of Melody's." "I've found the home we've been looking for, stupid," retorted Mrs. Whitefoot. Still Whitefoot stared. "I don't see any house," said he. Mrs. Whitefoot stamped her feet impatiently. "Right here, stupid," said she. "This old nest will make us the finest and safest home that ever was. No one will ever think of looking for us here.
Between the Castle and Zephaniah Whitefoot there had never been any intercourse. The dowager Mrs. Davenant hated the Cromwellite occupier of her estate, not only as a usurper, but as the representative of the man who had slain her husband.
Glad you lads arrived all right," he added as he caught sight of the boys. "Any trouble?" "Nothing, only Whitefoot gave out. I had to come on and get another pony," replied Bill. "Good! Snider, I want you to know Larry and Tom Alden," continued Mr. Wilder, introducing the boys, adding in a low voice: "They are the lads about whom I told you."
She watched very anxiously, and so did Stead, while relieving Whitefoot of her panniers and giving her a rub down before turning her out to get her supper. It was not long however before Kenton and Jeph both appeared, the one looking sad, the other sulky. "Too late," Jeph muttered, "and father won't let me go to see the sport." "Sport, d'ye call it?" said Kenton.
He wandered much farther from home than he had ever been in the habit of doing. At times he would sit and listen, but what he was listening for he didn't know. "There is something the matter with me, and I don't know what it is," said Whitefoot to himself forlornly. "It can't be anything I have eaten. I have nothing to worry about. Yet there is something wrong with me. I'm losing my appetite.
It didn't take him long to decide that it was the most delightful place he ever had found. He promptly decided to move in and spend the winter. In one end of the sugar-house was a pile of wood. Down under this Whitefoot made himself a warm, comfortable nest. It was a regular castle to Whitefoot. He moved over to it the store of seeds he had laid up for winter use.
"I am little Miss Dainty," replied the stranger bashfully. Right then and there Whitefoot's heart was filled so full of something that it seemed as if it would burst. It was love. All in that instant he knew that he had found the most wonderful thing in all the Great World, which of course is love. He knew that he just couldn't live without little Miss Dainty. And Mrs. Whitefoot
"Hi, there!" cried Timmy. "What were you doing in my storehouse?" "I I I was looking for a new home," stammered Whitefoot. "You mean you were stealing some of my food," snapped Timmy suspiciously. "I I I did take a few seeds because I was almost starved. But truly I was looking for a new home," replied Whitefoot. "What was the matter with your old home?" demanded Timmy.
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