"Yes, I've got bread, butter, and reindeer cheese. Help yourself."
"It's not so easy for a lot of people in the winter," said the man as he ate.
"Could you take some letters to the village for me?" I asked. "I'll pay you for it."
"Oh, no, I couldn't do that," the man replied. "I'm afraid that's impossible. I must cross the fjeld now. I've heard there's work in Hilling, in the Hilling Forest. So I can't."
"Must get his back up a bit again," I thought. "He just sits now there without any guts at all. In the end he'll start begging for a few coppers."
I felt his sack and said:
"What's this you're lugging about with you? Heavy things?"
"Mind your own business!" was his instant retort, as he drew the sack closer to him.
"I wasn't going to steal any of it; I'm no thief," I said, jesting again.
"I don't care what you are," he muttered.