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Updated: June 10, 2025
When they had drunk their coffee and eaten some of Sorenson's food, making their meal before the door, they carried the unconscious man out to the wagon, bearing him in the blanket on which he lay. Other blankets they spread over him. Johnson also placed at the prostrate figure's feet the rest of the eatables in the cabin. "No need to leave this stuff to the pack-rats," said he.
Eventually he felt his strength diminishing, and then he took to digging out the pack-rats and cooking them. But these, too, were scarce. At length starvation faced Slone. But he knew he would not starve. Many times he had been within rifle-shot of Wildfire. And the grim, forbidding thought grew upon him that he must kill the stallion. The thought seemed involuntary, but his mind rejected it.
Hearing nothing more he dropped back on his pillow sleepily, vowing fresh vengeance on the pack-rats who at that moment no doubt were carrying off rice and rolled oats. Suddenly there came a fresh sound, very distinct in the stillness, somewhat like the side of a big tin bulging where it had been dented.
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