I was already outside the door when I remembered that I
had silk thread myself in my fly-book; more indeed than I wanted. And I
went back slowly, discouraged--to think that I had silk thread myself.
A breath of something strange met me as I entered the hut again; it
seemed as if I were no longer alone there.
VI
A man asked me if I had given up shooting; he had not heard me fire a
shot up in the hills, though he had been out fishing for two days. No, I
had shot nothing; I had stayed at home in the hut until I had no more
food in the place.
On the third day I went out with my gun. The woods were getting green;
there was a smell of earth and trees. The young grass was already
springing up from the frozen moss. I was in a thoughtful mood, and sat
down several times. For three days I had not seen a soul except the one
fisherman I had met the day before. I thought to myself, "Perhaps I may
meet someone this evening on the way home, at the edge of the wood,
where I met the Doctor and Edwarda before. Perhaps they may be going
for a walk that way again--perhaps, perhaps not." But why should I think
of those two in particular? I shot a couple of ptarmigan, and cooked one
of them at once; then I tied up the dog.
I lay down on the dry ground to eat.
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