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Chip stuck his head under the lifted tent-flap. "Say, I can't find that cussed Three-H bottle," he complained. "What went with it, Cal?" "Ask Slim; he had it last. Ain't Shorty here, yet?" Cal turned again to Patsy, whose outcries were not nice to listen to, "Stay with it, old-timer; we'll have something hot to pour down yuh in a minute." Patsy replied, but pain made him incoherent.
Nicholas was holding up the tent-flap. "Hello! How do!" he sang out, recognising Mac. The priest glanced up and nodded pleasantly. Two Indians, squatting on the other side of the fire, scrambled away as the shifting wind brought a cloud of stifling smoke into their faces. "Where's the Boy?" demanded Mac, arresting the stampede.
"And thou goest?" Frona nodded. "And Tenas Hee-Hee goest! Ai! Ai! Ai!" The tent-flap lifted, and Matt McCarthy peered in. "It's yerself, Frona, is it? With breakfast waitin' this half-hour on ye, an' old Andy fumin' an' frettin' like the old woman he is. Good-mornin' to ye, Neepoosa," he addressed Frona's companions, "an' to ye, Muskim, though, belike ye've little mimory iv me face."
The lady is French, doubtless, and passes through from Ireland to visit the Chancellor's Court at Edinburgh." The Black Douglas paused a moment at the tent-flap, which, being of silken fabric lined with heavier material, hung straight and heavy to the ground. "Come in, my lord," cried the low and thrilling voice of his companion from within. "With both hands I bid you welcome to my poor abode.
"Where are you all? Anybody hurt?" cried Jarvis, groping in the blackness. "All right!" screamed Josephine, who had put her hand under the canvas partition and found her mother, whose bed was next her own. "All right!" shrieked Sally, who had received a soaking by having been close to the open tent-flap when the flood came. But she did not mention that just now.
He roused himself to hunt for his cigarette-case; but he sought in vain and finally desisted with a groan. It was at this point that the tent-flap was drawn aside, admitting for a moment the marvellous orange glow of the sinking sun, and a man attired as an Arab came noiselessly in. Herne lay quite still, regarding his visitor with critical eyes.
He would beat him again beat him terribly for hurting McCready; so Kazan slipped quietly under the tent-flap and stole off into the shadows. From out the gloom of the thick spruce he looked back, and a low whine of love and grief rose and died softly in his throat. They would beat him always now after that. Even she would beat him. They would hunt him down, and beat him when they found him.
Through the hollow of his hands he cried out the long, musical, morning call of the woodsman. "R-o-o-oll out!" he cried. The forest took up the sound in dying modulations. For answer Barbara threw aside the tent-flap and stepped into the sun. "Good-morning," said she. "Salut!" he replied. "Come and I will show you the spring." "I am sorry I cannot offer you a better variety for your breakfast.
"From your snail's pace I got the idea that you had come a-begging. Get in, and set your tongue wagging as speedily as you can! Why do you draw back? I tell you to make haste!" Before she could so much as catch her breath, he had raised the tent-flap, pushed her bodily through the entrance, and dropped the linen door behind her.
He lay down, with his nose to the warm coals and his eyes leveled between his forepaws, straight at the closed tent-flap. He meant to keep awake, to watch, to be ready to slink off into the forest at the first movement there. But a warmth was rising from out of the gray ash of the fire-bed, and his eyes closed.
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