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But his
arm was arrested, while in the act of throwing forward the muzzle of
the piece, by the eager and trembling hands of his companion.
"For God's sake, be not too hasty," she said; "it may be a friend--an
acquaintance--a neighbour!"
"A friend!" the old man repeated, deliberately releasing himself, at
the same time, from her grasp. "Friends are rare in any land, and less
in this, perhaps, than in another; and the neighbourhood is too thinly
settled to make it likely that he who comes towards us is even an
acquaintance."
"But though a stranger, you would not seek his blood!"
The trapper earnestly regarded her anxious and frightened features,
and then he dropped the butt of his rifle on the ground, like one
whose purpose had undergone a sudden change.
"No," he said, speaking rather to himself, than to his companion, "she
is right; blood is not to be spilt, to save the life of one so
useless, and so near his time. Let him come on; my skins, my traps,
and even my rifle shall be his, if he sees fit to demand them.


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