Here Lessie broke down and began to weep in little, spasmodic snuffles, as you have seen small children do.
I took her hand again and tried to assuage her fears as we went on under the big forest trees through the shadowy, dimly luminous atmosphere. I told her that Buck had spoken in the heat of anger, and that he did not really mean what he said, and that his passion had gotten away with his discretion, and had made him act very foolishly. I ended by laughing at the threats, and treating them in the nature of a joke, but my companion would not have it so.
"Yo' don't know 'im! Yo' don't know 'im!" she insisted, drawing the back of her free hand across her eyes. "He did mean it, 'n' he will do it—I know he will!"
"Don't you think I can take care of myself?" I asked.
"I don't know; maybe—but Buck's so strong!"
"I'm strong, too, Dryad."
She did not answer, and soon we came to the glade. Here Lessie stopped and faced me.
"Yo' mustn't come no fu'ther," she said, so emphatically that I almost blinked. "'N'—'n'—yo' mustn't come to the P'int no more 'n' I won't come to Baldy no more 'n'—"
"Why, Lessie!"
I dropped her hand, and put all the reproach I could summons into the words.