Blunt--that worthy having, by general consent, been
deemed the fittest man in the settlement to fill the major's place.

Soon it began to be noised abroad that the strangers had been sent by
Government to endeavour to bring about, if possible, a more friendly
state of feeling between the Whites and the Indians by means of
presents, and promises, and fair speeches.

The party remained all night in the block-house, and ere long it was
reported that Joe Blunt had been requested, and had consented, to be
the leader and chief of a party of three men who should visit the
neighbouring tribes of Indians to the west and north of the valley as
Government agents. Joe's knowledge of two or three different Indian
dialects, and his well-known sagacity, rendered him a most fitting
messenger on such an errand. It was also whispered that Joe was to
have the choosing of his comrades in this mission, and many were the
opinions expressed and guesses made as to who would be chosen.

That same evening Dick Varley was sitting in his mother's kitchen
cleaning his rifle. His mother was preparing supper, and talking
quietly about the obstinacy of a particular hen that had taken to
laying her eggs in places where they could not be found. Fan was
coiled up in a corner sound asleep, and Crusoe was sitting at one side
of the fire looking on at things in general.

"I wonder," remarked Mrs. Varley, as she spread the table with a pure
white napkin--"I wonder what the sodgers are doin' wi' Joe Blunt."

As often happens when an individual is mentioned, the worthy referred
to opened the door at that moment and stepped into the room.

"Good e'en t'ye, dame," said the stout hunter, doffing his cap, and
resting his rifle in a corner, while Dick rose and placed a chair for
him.

"The same to you, Master Blunt," answered the widow; "you've jist
comed in good time for a cut o' venison."

"Thanks, mistress; I s'pose we're beholden to the silver rifle for
that."

"To the hand that aimed it, rather," suggested the widow.

"Nay, then, say raither to the dog that turned it," said Dick Varley.
"But for Crusoe, that buck would ha' bin couched in the woods this
night."

"Oh! if it comes to that," retorted Joe, "I'd lay it to the door o'
Fan, for if she'd niver bin born nother would Crusoe. But it's good
an' tender meat, whativer ways ye got it. Howsiver, I've other things
to talk about jist now. Them sodgers that are eatin' buffalo tongues
up at the bloc