"He's got his head down between his shoulders like a whipped cur. He's broodin', an' his soul is thick in a fog."
"Dan, I trust you to cheer him up; but you'll not speak of me?"
"Not I. He's a proud man, Black McTee, an' he'd be angered to the core of him if he thought you'd talked about him an' his love to Harrigan. Whisht, Kate, I'll handle him like fire!
"The wood," he began, as McTee came in. "Did you find it on top of the hill, lad?"
McTee rumbled after a pause, and without looking at Harrigan: "There's plenty of it there. I made a little heap of the driest on the crown of the hill."
"Then the next thing is to move our fire up there."
"Move our fire?" cried Kate. "How can you carry the fire?"
"Easy. Take two pieces of burnin' wood an' walk along holdin' them close together. That way they burn each other an' the flame keeps goin'. Watch!"
He selected two good-sized brands from the fire and raised them, holding one in either hand and keeping the ignited portions of the sticks together. McTee looked from Kate to Harrigan.
"Sit down and talk to Kate. I'll carry the sticks; I know where the pile of timber is."