“There.”
He remained quite quiet for a second perhaps. “Listen to me,” he said. “Go back to camp.”
“Yes,” she said.
“Go back to camp. Make a pack of all the strongest food—strenthin’—strengthrin’ food—you know?” He seemed unable to express himself.
“Yes,” she said.
“Down the river. Down—down. Till you meet help.”
“Leave you?”
He nodded his head and winced.
“You’re always plucky,” he said. “Look facts in the face. Children. Thought it over while you were coming.” A tear oozed from his eye. “Don’t be a fool, Madge. Kiss me good-by. Don’t be a fool. I’m done. Children.”
She stared at him and her spirit was a luminous mist of tears. “You old coward,” she said in his ear, and kissed the little patch of rough and bloody cheek beneath his eye. Then she knelt up beside him. “I’m boss now, old man,” she said. “I want to get you to that place there under the rock. If I drag, can you help?”