"You fellers hev earned one o' them beauties," said the farmer, coming out of his barn and proceeding to slaughter one of the innocents without evident compunction. "Do as much for you zumtime," said Bunster, whereat all laughed. That was what the Dutchman always said when any one did him a favour. He was as good as his word, too, which not only gave him his nickname but made him one of the most popular men in his company. He was both fat and jolly, as Dutchmen should be, but not always are. His blue eyes twinkled with good humour and shrewdness, and his eagerness showed that he was fond of roast pig. How good it tasted though cooked, as it had to be, under unfavourable conditions over a camp-fire, and without proper utensils. There was, however, a look of contentment on the faces of those who partook of the feast that afternoon, and sat around on the warm ground licking their fingers. "Let's see," said Zeb, "Bunster and I and Rodney are off duty to-night." "Yah, and I tink I zum sleep get." "One of those Hesse-Cassel ruffians swaps even for one good American, and there's a lot of our boys rottin' in the prison hulks in New York harbour to-night." "Which is one way of saying we should capture a few Hessians for a pastime; hey, Do-as-much Bunster?" and Rodney thrust a forefinger into Bunster's fat ribs. The Dutchman squealed and leaped to his feet, for he was so ticklish that one, wishing to see him squirm, only had to point a finger at him. "That farmer is certain sure a good one, though he is too lazy to take his pigs in out of danger. I hate to see him lose 'em. Besides he has a big rick o' hay right nigh that pig pen an' it looked like a good place to sleep. What d'ye say, boys, if we tote ourselves down thar this evenin'?" "Zum place to sleep, yah?" "I'm not sleepy yet, but I am ready to go," replied Rodney, so they set out. They crossed the fields, some of which were new mown and fragrant. The sun was setting after a hot day. The swallows skimmed over the field. "Swallers flyin' low, sign o' rain," said Zeb. "Needn't lay it on the swallows when the clouds are piling up as they are this evening. We'll want a roof to the hay rick before morning, I think," was Rodney's reply. They found the farmer doing his chores. His smile was a trifle apprehensive as he said, "That pig tasted so good ye come back fer more?" "We be no hogs. We reckoned as how the fellers as didn't git roast pig might come back and try it this evenin'." "Hope ye don't intend fightin' round here. My wife Nancy is dretful nervous." "My kind and tremulous friend, do ye want the pig-stickers ter git yer pigs? We 'lowed as how we might stay here an' save yer next winter's pork. 'Sposin' you explain it to Nancy. We'll not allow any one to hurt her, if we can help it."