“We will that!” declared David, “even if we are a day late gettin’ back t’ th’ Narrows tilt.”
The adventure of the evening occupied their conversation until the wolf pelts were scraped and hung to dry. Then David filled the stove with wood, and blowing out the candle they slipped into their sleeping bags.
“I’m wonderin’, now,” mused Andy, after they had lain a little while in silence, “what Pop will say when we tells him about th’ wolves.”
“He’ll say we did fine gettin’ three good skins,” said David proudly. “They’re all prime, and worth four dollars each, _what_ever.”
“’Tis a fine day’s hunt!” enthused Andy, adding: “But I wouldn’t want t’ be chased by un again!”
“Aye, ’twere a close call,” admitted David. “After this we’ll both carry our rifles, and we’ll be sure they’re workin’ all right.”
“And I’m thinkin’,” said Andy, “th’ Lard was on th’ lookout for us, and He made your rifle go off, Davy, just th’ right time.”
“Aye,” said David, “just th’ right time.”
“When I said my prayer,” continued Andy reverently, “I thanked th’ Lard for standin’ by us.”
“So did I,” admitted David, “and I thanked He for th’ three wolf skins and th’ two martens. They’re a big help toward payin’ for Jamie’s cure, and we gets un all in _one_ day.”
“I wonders,” and Andy’s voice was filled with awe, “if Mother knows about un, and if she’s glad?”
“And I wonders, too!” said David, in subdued and reverential voice. “If she knows about un, she’s wonderful glad, Andy--and--I’m always thinkin, she does see us, Andy, and everything we does. She were tellin’ me once, Andy, before she dies, that when th’ Lard takes she away to be an angel, she’ll always keep close to us in spirit. She were sayin’ she always wants us to know she’s close by watchin’ us and helpin’ us, even if we can’t see her.”
“I’m thinkin’ then,” breathed Andy, looking about him in the darkness as though half expecting to see his mother’s form, “she might be right close to us now, and--maybe--she’s touchin’ us. Do you--do you think she _is_, Davy?”
“They’s--no knowin’,” said David in a half whisper, no less awed by the thought than was Andy. “I’m thinkin’ if th’ Lard lets th’ angels do what they wants t’ do, Mother’s right here now. Th’ Lard would never be denyin’ His angels, for He wants th’ angels t’ be happy, and Mother never’d be happy if she couldn’t be with us.”