He spoke almost inaudibly, panting hard, with a rattling and a gurgling in his breast. Jig-Leg looked at him suspiciously, stopped short as if he were about to say something, waved his hand, and went on again without saying anything.
For a long time they went on slowly and in silence.
The cocks began to crow somewhere near, the dogs barked, presently the melancholy sound of the watch-bell was wafted to them from the distant village church, and was swallowed up in the sombre silence of the forest. A large bird, looking like a big black patch in the faint moonlight, rose into the air, and there was an ominous sound in the ravine of a flurried piping and the rustling of feathers.
"A crow—and a seed crow[5] too, if I'm not mistaken," observed Jig-Leg.
"Look here!" said Hopeful, sinking heavily on the ground, "go you, and I'll remain here ... I can do no more ... I'm choking ... and my head is going round."
"Well, there you are!" said Jig-Leg crossly. "What, can't you do a little more?"
"I can't."
"I congratulate you. Ugh!"
"I've not a bit of strength in me."
"I'm not surprised, we've tramped without a meal since yesterday."