In The Still of The Night

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: Well Old Crone, it looks like the Pirate Bees are getting ready to pack up and move out.  Ah's me.  Bootleggers among the Leatherstockings - what's Mohicanland comin' to?

: Here we are with not pick nor shovel, and when the bees leave with their honey mead, I suspect the only gold hereabouts will be in that evening sunset that's layin' such a fine, glitterin' radiance over the glassy surface of the lake.  I must admit it's a sight to soothe the spirit and put ye in mind o' yer Maker.  Just look at how the sky has deepened to a dark, velvety blue - and there's the evening star just risin' over them pines on the rim o' the mountain.  Hardly a breeze to ripple the water.  Look!  There's a doe and her buck comin' down to the shore to take a drink together, and the night peepers are startin' to tune up.

: Ye're lookin' a bit down tonight, Old Crone, and a little the worse for wear, yes ye are.  This has been a hard trip for ye, and we're not goin' home rich, as we hoped.  But then, ye gotta look on the bright side.  Think of all the excitin' tales ye'll have to tell when ye get to The Gathering.  Besides, the trip home should be fun.  I understand Judge Cooper is fixin' to throw his Traditional Cooper Family Reunion and Barbecue, and we'll just stop in on the way down the Mohawk and party with 'em a bit.  That cheer ye up any?


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