Forcing his way blindly through the underbrush, stumbling over roots, and plunging into holes, he completed his detour around the meadow. As he came out beside the ford he heard his name called urgently.
"Sam! Sam!"
Notwithstanding his anger, and in the very act of the brave vows he was taking, the voice found his heart like a bullet. He stopped dead with hanging arms and looked strickenly in the direction whence it came.
Presently the dugout came flying around a bend in the creek above. She landed at the head of the little rapids, and ran toward him. He waited with sombre eyes.
She stopped at three paces distance, afraid to come closer. The savage had disappeared. Her face was all softened with emotion.
"Sam, I sorry I call names," she said very low. "That was my madness speaking out of my mouth. I not think those things in my heart. Please forget it."
His eyes bored her through and through.
"Another trick to get you going?" the voice inside him asked.
"Don' look at me lak that," she faltered.
"How do I know what to believe?" Sam said harshly. "You say so many things."