“Yes,” said the other, “they raided the Fuscæ yesterday. They’ll be down on us next.”
With that the stranger made off. McEwen was about to exclaim at the use of the word us when a ravenous craving for food, brought now forcibly to his mind by the words of the other, made him start in haste after him.
Then came another who bespoke him in passing.
“I haven’t found a thing to-day, and I’ve been all the way to the Pratensis region. I didn’t dare go any further without having some others with me. They’re hungry, too, up there, though they’ve just made a raid. You heard the Sanguineæ went to war, didn’t you?”
“Yes, he told me,” said McEwen, indicating the retreating figure of the stranger.
“Oh, Ermi. Yes, he’s been over in their territory. Well, I’ll be going now.”
McEwen hastened after Ermi at a good pace, and soon overtook him. The latter had stopped and was gathering in his mandibles a jagged crumb, almost as large as himself.
“Oh!” exclaimed McEwen eagerly, “where did you get that?”
“Here,” said Ermi.
“Will you give me a little?”