bold enough, but he's too reckless for a hunter. There
was no need for that yell, now--none at all."
Having uttered this sagacious remark, he threw his
rifle into the hollow of his left arm, turned round, and
strode off with a long, slow step towards his own cottage.
Blunt was an American by birth, but of Irish extraction,
and to an attentive ear there was a faint echo of the
brogue
in his tone, which seemed to have been handed
down to him as a threadbare and almost worn-out heirloom.