"Yes, sick from an empty belly, and this, and this!" He showed a
forearm done up in a bloody rag, and pointed to his neck, from which
the skin was peeling. "I was gone ten days with that red cloth you
gave me; and when I came back, if there wasn't the horror itself
grinning at me from the top of my own shanty! I tried to get in, but
my wife barred the door, and said that she would shoot me if I didn't
get back into the woods. I tried to steal in at night through a
window, and she drenched me in hot water. I built a wigwam at the edge
of the forest, and stayed there for five days. Hon-gree! Blessed
saints, I had no matches, no grub; and when I got close enough to yell
these things to her, she kept her word and plunked me through a crack
in the door, so that I lost a pint of blood from this arm."
"I'll give you something to eat," laughed Jan, undoing his pack. "How
long has the red flag been up?"
"I've lost all count of time, but it's twelve days, if an hour, and I
swear it's going to take all winter to get it down!"
"It's not the plague. Go back and tell your wife so."
"And get shot for my pains!" groaned Croisset, digging into meat and
biscuit. "I'm bound for Lac Bain, if you'll give me a dozen matches.
That whisky-jack will remain with me until I die, for when I ate him I
forgot to take out his insides!"
"You're a lucky man, Croisset.
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