“I will not,” said the other, and a light came in his eye that was almost evil.
“All right,” said McEwen, made bold by hunger and yet cautious by danger, “which way would you advise me to look?”
“Wherever you please,” said Ermi, “why ask me? You are not new at seeking,” and strode off.
“The forest was better than this,” thought McEwen; “there I would not die of the heat, anyhow, and I might find food. Here is nothing,” and he turned and glanced about for a sight of the jungle whence he had come.
Far to the left and rear of him he saw it, those great up-standing swords. As he gazed, revolving in his troubled mind whether he should return or not, he saw another like himself hurrying toward him out of the distance.
He eagerly hailed the newcomer, who was yet a long way off.
“What is it?” asked the other, coming up rapidly.
“Do you know where I can get something to eat?”
“Is that why you called me?” he answered, eyeing him angrily. “Do you ask in time of famine? Certainly not. If I had anything for myself, I would not be out here. Go and hunt for it like the rest of us. Why should you be asking?”
“I have been hunting,” cried McEwen, his anger rising. “I have searched here until I am almost starved.”