I asked for some water. Mr. Benson came over. He said, “Son, I’m sorry, truly sorry.
I didn’t mean it that way. Your dogs are alive. I guess I was excited. I’m very sorry.”
I heard a deep voice say, “That’s a hell of a thing to do. Come running in here saying the dogs are frozen solid.”
Mr. Benson said, “I didn’t mean it to sound that way. I said I’m sorry. What more do you want me to do?”
The deep voice growled again. “I still think it was a hell of a thing for a man to do.”
Mr. Kyle took over. “Now let’s not have any more of this,” he said. “We have work to do.
We’ve been standing here acting like a bunch of schoolkids. All this time that old man has been lying there suffering.
A couple of you men cut two poles and make a stretcher to carry him.”
While the men were getting the poles, Papa heated the coonskins again and rewrapped Grandpa’s foot.
With belts and long leather laces from their boots, the hunters made a stretcher.
Very gently they put Grandpa on it. Again Mr. Kyle took command. “Part of us will start for camp with him,” he said.
“The others will go after the dogs.” “Here, take this gun,” Papa said. “I’ll go with him.”
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