The cabin was alive with mice! It was filled with the
restless movement of them--little bright-eyed creatures who moved about
him without fear, and, he thought, expectantly. He had not moved an inch
when Father Roland came again into the cabin. He pointed to the floor.
"The place is alive with them!" he protested.
Father Roland appeared in great good humour as he slipped off his
mittens and rubbed his hands over the stove.
"Tavish's pets," he chuckled. "He says they're company. I've seen a
dozen of them on his shoulders at one time. Queer. Queer."
His hands made the rasping sound as he rubbed them. Suddenly he lifted a
lid from the stove and peered into the fire-box.
"He put fuel in here less than an hour ago," he said. "Wonder where he
can be mouching at this hour. The dogs are gone." He scanned the table.
"No supper. Pans clean. Mice hungry. He'll be back soon. But we won't
wait. I'm famished."
He spoke swiftly, and filled the stove with wood. Mukoki began bringing
in the dunnage. The uneasy gleam was still in his eyes. His gaze was
shifting and restless with expectation. He came and went noiselessly,
treading as though he feared his footsteps would awaken some one, and
David saw that he was afraid of the mice.
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