"Dead?" I said. "Oh, no, he won't be dead. You'll find him in the tent waiting for you."
"But if he be dead?" persisted Allen. "He may be, and we sure can't bring th' body out now, sir."
Although still struggling against the fear that my reason told me was only too well founded, I requested, that in the event of what they thought possible proving to be the case, they wrap the body in the blankets they would find in the tent, and build for it a stage high enough from the ground to protect it from animals. I also asked that they bring back with them all the things they should find in the tent, including the rifle and camera, and especially the books and papers of all descriptions.
Promising that all should be done as I wished, and again cautioning me against eating too much, Allen and Donald departed, leaving me a prey to anxiety and fear as to the news they should bring back.
XX. HOW HUBBARD WENT TO SLEEP
A pot of hot tea soon was ready, and I drank some of it.
"I hopes you feels better, sir," then spoke young Duncan MacLean. "A smoke'll taste good now. Got a pipe, sir?"
I produced my pipe, and he held out to me a plug of tobacco.
"Take he an' fill th' pipe, sir."