CHAPTER IX.
Joe went to bed that night with a promise to himself to rise early next morning, for he had been invited to take part in a "raising," which term meant that a new cabin was to be erected, and such task was ever an event in the lives of the settlers.
The following morning Joe rose early, dressing himself in a complete buckskin suit, for which he had exchanged his good garments of cloth.

Never before had he felt so comfortable.

He wanted to hop, skip and jump.

The soft, undressed buckskin was as warm and smooth as silk-plush; the weight so light, the moccasins so well-fitting and springy, that he had to put himself under considerable restraint to keep from capering about like a frolicsome colt.
The possession of this buckskin outfit, and the rifle and accouterments which went with the bargain, marked the last stage in Joe's surrender to the border fever.

The silent, shaded glens, the mystery of the woods, the breath of this wild, free life claimed him from this moment entirely and forever.
He met the others, however, with a serene face, showing no trace of the emotion which welled up strongly from his heart.