Then the guests came and Harris announced supper.
“Captain,” one of the young men asked, “what’s this savory dish your man is serving us?”
“That,” the captain asserted, without changing a muscle on his weather-browned face, “that’s moose-tongue; moose-tongue from Minnesota. My friend here brought it down.”
“Tied him behind your boat, I suppose?” queried the second guest.
“Oh, no; not at all,” Barker promptly entered into the spirit of the company. “We used him as motive power. He pulled us clear into town.”
The third guest and the boys looked a little puzzled.
“You see,” the trapper quickly explained, “he was a Chippewa moose and dreadfully scared of a Sioux. My friend, Tatanka, here, is a Sioux. Had an awful time getting the beast to stop for camp. Was bound to keep going as long as Tatanka was sitting behind him.”
“Sir Barker,” the captain took up the conversation, “how many tongues did he have?”
“Well, sir,” the trapper drawled out, “from the noise he could make, I should say about six, sir. He was sure a wonderful beast. We were going to exhibit him in town, but the Quartermaster General took such a liking to him that we had to give him up.”
Again a peal of laughter went around the table.
“Harris,” said the third guest, “you’ve garnished that moose-tongue with green asparagus. Looks almighty appetizing. Where did you get it?”
“Wai, massa, I tell you. I cut it myself in de cane-brake in de nex’ ravine. De Good Lord hab started a ’sparagus plantation dere, sure ’nuf,” and a broad smile spread over Harris’s face like sunshine. He had really done his best to prepare a feast for his master and now he was happy because his master was pleased.
“Gentlemen, fall to,” the captain urged. “We have here the very best dinner Vicksburg has to offer. The Planters Hotel could not beat it, if President Davis himself was the guest of the city.”
By this time the boys had recovered from their embarrassment because they saw the men all acting like happy boys. They had never suspected that their fatherly friend, Barker, was so much of a boy, who could laugh and cut up.
They fell to as heartily as all the older boys, although the scene of Old Harmony’s team of six rolling down the bluff at Fort Ridgely flashed through their minds.