“Where was it shot, Kate? I don't find nothin' but this cut that looks like his knife slipped when he was skinnin'.”
“It was a knife that killed it.”
“What!”
“Don't ask me about it; I see the picture of it in my dreams still. The lion had dragged the trap into a cave and Bart followed it. Dan went in pushing his rifle before him, but—when he tried to fire it jammed.”
“Yes?” they cried together.
“Don't ask me the rest!”
They would hardly have let her off so easily if it had not been for the entrance of Joan who had come back on account of the darkness. Black Bart went promptly to a corner of the hearth and lay down with his head on his paws and the little girl sat beside him watching the fire, her head leaning wearily on his shoulder. Kate went to the door.
“It's almost night,” she said. “Why isn't he here?”
“Buck, they couldn't have overtaken”
She started. “Dan?”
Buck Daniels grinned reassuringly.
“Not unless his hoss is a pile of bones; if it has any heart in it, Dan'll run away from anything on four legs. No call for worryin', Kate. He's simply led 'em a long ways off and waited for evenin' before he doubled back. He'll come back right enough. If they didn't catch him that first run they'll never get the wind of him.”
