Marion looked up with a brave smile.
“Death will not seem hard, knowing that you love me,” she said, simply. “We will go together.”
He bent and kissed her.
“God bless you!” he said.
Silence fell between them then, broken by the entrance of Wild Nat, followed by the others. The tall form of the old hunter looked taller and more lank than ever, as he strode into the room and sat down with a sort of snort.
“This ’ere thin’ is gittin’ ruther tiresome,” he said, giving his speech emphasis by a series of nods. “I’ll be teetotally flumbustercated ’fore very long. Wouldn’t I jist like tew git a chance at them yaller-skinned coots out yonder! I’ll bet my jack-knife ag’in a chunk of lead, thet they’d wish they’d died years ago! Fact is,” went on the hunter, with a benignant grin, “I don’t believe it agrees with me tew not have ’nough tew eat. Some folks may git along ’ithout grub, but I sw’ar I can’t! My constertution ain’t adapted, so tew speak, tew livin’ on air. It ain’t, I vum!”
“Nor me nuther,” said Scip, lugubriously. “I hain’t had a square meal in four days. I can’t live on nuffin, an’ dar’s no use in t’inkin’ ob it. Ef I can’t hab suffin eatable ’fore long I shell be dwindled away to a skilleton. I wished I’d nebber come West.”
“We have heard nothing of the Indians since day before yesterday,” said Kent. “Is it not possible that they may have left?”
“Humph!” said Vic, who sat near; “ef you knowed ’em as well as I dew, ye wouldn’t think of sich a thing. They are layin’ low, in hopes thet we’ll be fools enough tew think they’re gone, an’ come out. A tomahawk waits for the fust man thet shows his head.”
Scip noticed Kent’s remark, but did not hear Vic’s reply, and appeared to be busily considering the chances of such a thing.