“Have some damper?” said Nic suddenly, so as to hide a peculiar feeling which troubled him.
The convict took the bread cake, broke it, and began to eat, seeking refuge in the act for the same reason.
“Hah!” he said, smiling, “it tastes good. Nic, boy, you forgive me all I have said?”
“Of course I do. But, I say, how have you managed to live?”
“The same as a black would. This is the first bread I have eaten since I broke away and became a savage.”
“Do you think they will manage to catch you?” said Nic, after a pause.
“Not alive, my lad. Well, let’s have just a few words together, and then you must go.”
“You will stop about here, I suppose?”
The convict shook his head.
“Hunted beasts stay where they are safe. Hunt them, and they go farther away.”