The old man gazed at them earnestly, and evidently believing their tale, said:
"I thought that more were killed with my shot than customary, and if ye fired at the same time that I did, that explains my not hearing the report of your guns. Ye are welcome to some of them."
"Oh, no," said Ande, somewhat mollified by the hunter's generosity and explanation. "We thought you were robbing us, but it was clearly a mistake."
"Will ye sit down; it's nigh dinner time and, if ye can eat with a lone old man, you're most welcome. Ye can pasture your horses in that bit of clearing."
The invitation was accepted. The horses were tethered out where they could nibble the grass, and they returned.
"Come from afar?" interrogated the old hunter.
"From Louisiana," said Ande.
"Here hunting?"
"No, prospecting."
The old hunter straightened up as if shot, and gazed at them as if he would pierce them through with those keen, blue orbs of his.