In Which We Have an Adventure

Farms now came down to the water's edge in places, villages offered
mill-pond dams--around which, in scowling reticence, we portaged the
Sea Rover, unmindful alike of queries and of jeers. I found time to
post additional letters now. Indeed, I was preparing for a long and
determined enterprise. It was the Sea Rover against the Belle
Helène; and, did the skipper of the latter loll along in flanneled
ease and luxury, not so with the hardy band of cutthroats who manned
our smaller and more mobile craft, men used to hardships, content to
drink spring water instead of sparkling wines, and to eat the product
of their own weapons.

We were I do not know how far from our first encampment, perhaps
thirty miles or more, when toward five o'clock of the evening we
concluded to land at a wooded grassy bank which offered a good camping
place. We made all fast, and in a few moments had our tent up and a
little fire going, Lafitte and L'Olonnois, at this, happy as any two
pirates I ever have seen; and were on the point of spreading our
canvas table cover upon the grass, when we heard a gruff voice hail
us.

"Heh! What're you doin' there?"

We turned, expecting to meet some irate farmer on whose land perhaps
we innocently were trespassing; but the figure which now emerged from
the screening bushes was rougher, bolder, and in some indescribable
way wilder, than that of a farmer. I could not, at first, assign the
fellow a place, for I knew this was an old and well settled country,
and not supposed to be overrun with tramps or campers. He was a stout
man nearly of middle age, dirty and ill clad, his coarse shirt open at
the neck, his legs clad in old overalls, his hat and shoes very much
the worse for wear. His face was covered with a rough beard, and so
brown and so begrimed that, at once, I guessed this must be some
dweller in the open. Yet he seemed no tramp; and even if he were, he
had no right to hail us in this fashion.