against the curtained sides of the wagon as it passed.
"Here's Mrs. Cook's house," said Peter at last.
The children saw a little unpainted house standing in a clearing of half-chopped treestumps. A line of washing was strung between the two posts that supported a narrow roof over the door. Skins of animals were tacked on the sides of the house, and a large hound dog chained to a tree watched them closely.
"Can we get out and see the dog?" asked Meg, as Peter tied Terry to a convenient tree.
"I don't know as I'd touch the dog," said Peter. "Better keep away from him. He's a night hunter, and may be cross. There's Mrs. Cook's little girl—go and make friends with her if you want to."
Peter went up to the house door and knocked, and Meg walked over to a little girl seated on a tree stump.
The child was barefooted and wore a ragged dress, but her skin was a beautiful clear brown and her eyes were as blue as Meg's. She had lovely long brown hair, too.
