"For Garrod," said Jack. "We can't let the mosquitoes eat the poor devil."
Davy caught sight of the banjo inside. "Bring that," he begged.
Jack shook his head. "No time for tingle-pingling on this trip," he said, unconsciously using the trader's word.
Davy begged hard. "I'll look after it myself," he said.
Jack hesitated. His fingers itched for the strings. "Do you think we had better take it?" he asked Mary.
Mary was only human. "Why not?" she said.
One could not always be dwelling on one's troubles. The banjo was brought out, and while Mary, with veiled eyes, busied herself mixing bannock, and Davy listened with his delighted mouth open, Jack filled his chest and gave them "Pretty Polly Oliver."
"That's great!" said Davy with a sigh of pleasure.
Mary said nothing.
"Do you like it?" Jack asked, very off-hand.