With the severe nervous strain and excitement ended, Paul nearly collapsed, but a shout from Dan brought him to his senses.
“Is you hurt, Paul? Is you hurt?” Dan asked as he came up, intense anxiety in his voice.
“No,” answered Paul, putting, on a bold face, “but they did give me a run for it.”
“’T was a wonderful close call!” exclaimed Dan. “I were comin’ t’ meet you when I hears you holler. I were leavin’ th’ gun in th’ cabin, an’ I has none, so I runs back an’ gets your rifle. ’T weren’t no common holler you gives, an’ I knows when I hears un things is amiss somehow, so I gets th’ rifle, an’ ’t were well I got un.”
“I thought for a minute it was all up with me, Dan. I’ll never go out without a gun again.”
“No, ’t ain’t safe. They’s wonderful bold, when just two of un comes at you,” and Dan turned over with his foot the carcass of the wolf Paul had killed. “I never heard of un doin’ that before. Paul, I were sayin’ t’ you once you was wonderful brave. You got a rare lot more grit than most folks.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Paul, exceedingly proud of Dan’s praise, but modestly inclined to deprecate his own prowess. “I just had to do what I did, or they’d have got me.”
“Were un follerin’ far?”