arsely. "We got days to go yet...."

She put his arm aside and reached the pile of kit. The sack in which his
food was carried was a white canvas one, easily distinguished from the
rest. She turned over one or two things and found it--flat and empty.

"Gone--all gone!"

She stood with it hanging from her fingers as a suspicion entered her
mind. Slowly she came to him, her bosom throbbing madly.

"What have you done with it?"

"I guess I've bin a bit too free with it."

"What have you done with it?" she reiterated.

"Wal, it's gone, and squealing won't help matters."

"Where has it gone?"

"Where does food usually go? See here, Angela--I'm right sorry about it
all. Maybe I'll shoot a bird to-morrow, and then I'll have a gormandizing
jag."

But the stratagem failed to have effect. She was thinking of the apparent
inexhaustibility of her own supply. Two nights before she had heard him go
from the tent, and the next morning the ring which he usually wore on his
finger was found in her sack. Moreover, the contents had seemed strangely
increased. She saw it all now. The bag slipped from her fingers and she
covered her face with her hands.

"I know!... I know now!" she burst out. "I've been eating your food as
well as my own. You have been replenishing my supply from your own sack.
All this time you've been famished with hunger, and you've let me go on
eating--living on your hunger. Oh, God! don't you see how mean I feel?"
Then her eyes flashed and her tone changed. "But you had no right to do
it. How dare you?"

"I guess I'd dare a lot of things for certain reasons. See here, you've
bin through a hell of a lot up here, but you've never suffered hunger, and
it wouldn't be good for you, I'm thinking. Cold and frostbite is one
thing, and hunger's another. There's nothin' like starvation to freeze up
your heart. It's like a red-hot iron inside, gittin' redder and redder....
Shootin' a starvin' dog's a mercy, I reckon."

"Is it any worse for me than you?"

"Yep."

With that dogmatic assertion he relapsed into silence. Angela flew to her
own small supply of food and produced the requisities for a good meal. The
mixture was soon spluttering over the fire, emitting odors almost
unendurable to the hungry, watching Jim. Angela turned it out on to a
plate.

"Come along," she said.

"I told you----"

She went to him and put her arm round him.

"If you've any regard for me--if you want to make me happy, eat that."