Taking hold of the work again, his powerful arms flung the branches and tops of pine on the burning heap, while the girls ran for more. It took a strong arm now, for the fire was so large and so fierce that one could not come nigh it. Meredith kept the girls all at a distance and himself fed the flames, till all the present stock of fuel was laid on, and the wood-choppers went off to their dinner. There was no more to be done then but to watch the show, and as the fire began to lessen and die down, find a spot where the tea-kettle might be set, at the edge of the glowing heap. It was no use to begin to read, they all agreed, till they had their dinner. And soon the coffee could be made; and the four enjoyed their meal as only those can who have worked for it. They had their chicken pie and their roasted sweet potatoes, the omelet they for to-day dispensed with, being all tired. They took their dinner on the bank, there where they could look away down to the river and see the hilly shores beyond on the other side; and Meredith averred that sweet potatoes never were so sweet before. "Such air!" said he; "and such colouring!" "And it is just warm enough," added Maggie. "Well, I have got cooled off now," said Flora, "but I consider feeding bonfires to be hot work." Then, when dinner was over, and the things packed into the cart, they arranged themselves on the moss in a delicious feeling of resting and refreshed langour; the girls took out their fancy work, and Meredith opened his book. Maggie, who did not trouble herself about fancy work, crept close to his side and looked with fascinated eyes at the strange characters out of which he brought such delightful things to her ears. "'It was about the year 940, according to the chronicle, that a boy of thirteen or fourteen years old was herding his father's cattle on the waste land not far from Hermannsburg, when there came along a splendid train of armed cavaliers riding their horses proudly. The boy looks with delight on the shining helmets and coats of mail, the glittering spears and the stately horsemen, and the thought rises in his heart--"Now that looks something like!" All of a sudden the horsemen quit the road, which here wound about crookedly, and come riding across country, over the open land where he is keeping his cattle. That seems to him too bad, for the field is no highway, and the ground belongs to his father. He considers a moment, then goes forward to meet the riders, plants himself in their course, and calls out to them--"Turn back! the road is yours, the field is mine." There is a tall man riding at the head of the troop, on whose brow a grave majesty is enthroned, he looks wonderingly at the boy who has dared to put himself in his way. He checks his horse, taking a certain pleasure in the spirited little fellow, who returns his look so boldly and fearlessly and never budges from his place. "'"Who are you, boy?"