Imbrie made a great parade of surprise. “What makes you think that?”
“She’s tried twice already, hasn’t she? I saw it in her eye. She saw it, too——” pointing to Clare. “You heard her warn me. She never shot a moose. That was too simple a trick.”
“I did shoot a moose,” said the woman sullenly.
“Then why don’t you bring some of it in and let’s see it. You have your knife to cut off as much as we can carry.”
She turned away with a discomposed face.
“Oh, well, if you won’t take the trouble to bring in the meat we’ll go without it,” said Imbrie quickly. Stonor laughed.
As they were making ready to start Stonor heard Imbrie say bitterly to the woman, in their own tongue: “You made a pretty mess of that!”
“Well, do it yourself, then,” she snarled back.
“Very well, I will. When I see a good chance.”
“This is only the 25th,” thought Stonor. “By hook or by crook I must contrive to keep alive a couple of days longer.”