One of the valley-men was tall and lank, and the other was sturdily built; and at these pacific words of Bromley they advanced, still keeping close together.
"We don't see but two," said the stout man, coming to a halt again. "Where's the other one at?"
"He's too weak to get out of his bunk," said Lieutenant Coleman. "For God's sake, have you brought us food?"
"That's just what we have," said the rosy-faced stout man, who came on without any further hesitation. "We've brought ye a corn-pone. We 'lowed there might be some human critters starvin' up here." With that he whisked about the thin man, and snatched a corn-loaf from the haversack on his back.
"How did you-all ever git here?" said the thin man. "Hit's seven year since the old bridge tumbled into the gorge."
There was no reply to this question, for Bromley was devouring his bread like a starved wolf, while Coleman had turned away to share his piece with Philip.
The eagerness with which they ate seemed to please the two valley-men, who were willing enough to wait a reasonable time for the information they sought. It was a fine opportunity to give some account of themselves, and the rosy-faced man made good use of it.
"We're plumb friendly," he said, "and mighty glad we brought along the bread, ain't we, Tom? Mightn't 'a' done hit if hit hadn't 'a' been for my old woman insistin'. She 'lowed some hunter fellers had got up here and couldn't git down ag'in, and she hild fast to that idea while she was a-bakin' last night, time your fire was a-burnin'. Hit certainly takes women folks to git the rights o' things, don't hit, Tom? My name is Riley Hooper, and this yer friend o' mine is Tom Zachary, and we're nothin' if we ain't friendly."
Poor Philip was unable to swallow the dry bread, and Coleman came to the door with the golden cup in his hand, and begged one of the men to bring a cup of water from the branch. Tom Zachary hurried off on this mission of mercy.
"Hit's a wonder," he exclaimed, when he came back with the dripping cup, "that you-all ain't been pizoned afore this, drinkin' out o' brass gourds. That's what ailed Colum. Long time he had the greensickness. But his woman was cookin' into a brass kittle, and that might 'a' made some difference."