I guess you might fight the whole of Buena Vista right over his head, an' if it was his sleepin' time he'd sleep right on." They left the next morning, taking with them all of Harry's baggage.
Jarvis' boat would remain in the creek at this point, and he and Ike would return in due time for their own possessions.

They followed a footpath now, but the walk was nothing to them.

It was in truth a relief after so much traveling in the boat.
"My legs are long an' they need straightenin'," said Jarvis.

"The ten miles before us will jest about take out the kinks." Jarvis was a bachelor, his house being kept by his widowed sister, Ike's mother, and old Aunt Suse.

Now, as they swung along in Indian file at a swift and easy gait, his joyous spirits bubbled forth anew.
Lifting up his voice he sang with such tremendous volume that every peak and ridge gave back an individual echo: "I live for the good of my nation, And my suns are all growing low, But I hope that the next generation Will resemble old Rosin, the beau.
"I've traveled this country all o'er, And now to the next I will go, For I know that good quarters await me To welcome old Rosin, the beau." "I suppose you don't know how you got that song, either," said Harry.
"No, it just wandered in an' I've picked it up in parts, here an' thar.
See that clump o' laurel 'cross the valley thar, Harry?
I killed a black bear in it once, the biggest seen in these parts in our times, an' I kin point you at least five spots in which I've killed deer.
You kin trap lots of small game all through here in the winter, an' the furs bring good prices.