Sam ordered St. Paul to unsaddle the horses, to make a fire, and put on water.
"How do you feel?" he asked Musq'oosis solicitously.
"Pretty good," the old man answered, smiling. "I not feel bad no more I guess."
"Sollers will be along directly with medicine. He will know what to do for you."
"Medicine not mak' old heart go on," said Musq'oosis. "I have finish my hunt."
"I wish I could get you home!" murmured Sam.
The old man moved his head from side to side to see the trees and the sky. "This my home," he said. "It is good grass. There is no better bed."
"You mustn't talk like that," cried Sam, distressed. "You mustn't give up."
Musq'oosis smiled. "Not givin' up w'en old man die," he returned. "I lak live ver' well. I lak the summer an' the winter. Mos' of all I lak my big lak. I lak smooth and rough. I lak the green shore and the round bays and the little rivers that come down. It is a good worl'. But I lak leave it now. I lak go to bed after big hunt."
"You shouldn't talk so much," said Sam. "It tires you."