"It does get a bit wearisome, but 'tis a wonderful lot better'n no rabbit, when rabbit's all there is."
"Wearisome! Wearisome! Confound it, Bob, it's disgusting! Now we've got to do something to get ourselves out of here, and that quick."
"I'm not knowin', now, what t' do till th' others comes, an' I'm knowin' they will."
"Come, Bob, let's make a try for that wall down there. Even if the canoe does get away from us, we can make the wall--I know we can."
"No," and Bob shook his head ominously, "I'm ready t' take any fair chanct, Shad, but they wouldn't be even a fair chanet t' make un."
"Oh, bosh!" exclaimed Shad angrily. "I thought you had some nerve."
"'Tisn't a matter o' nerve, Shad; 'tis a matter o' what can be done an' what can't."
"Oh, yes, it can! Anyone with two legs and two hands and two eyes and just a grain of grit can do it."
Bob, quiet and unruffled, grilled his rabbit, refusing to take offence or to be moved at Shad's remarks, evidently intended to goad him into what his experience told him would certainly prove a hopeless and foolhardy venture.
It is a psychological phenomenon that men, denied action and confined to limited and solitary surroundings, become highly irascible. They find cause for offence in every word and every action of their companions, and it is not unusual for men situated as Ungava Bob and Shad Trowbridge were to lapse into such a state of antagonism toward one another that they cease to converse.