n them. And how we ate
and ate!"
But George's customary grin was missing. In silence he took the tea
leaves from the kettle and placed them on a flat stone close by the
fire, and in silence he occasionally stirred them with a twig that he
broke from a bush at his back. At length, the tea leaves having dried
sufficiently, he filled his pipe from them, and I filled my pipe. We
had not had any tobacco to smoke for many days.
The silence continued. On my right sat George, his cheeks sunken, his
eyes deep down in their sockets, his long black hair falling over his
ears--there he sat stiffly erect, puffing his tea leaves with little
apparent satisfaction and gazing stoically into the fire. I could
guess what was passing through his mind--the stories of the Indians
that starved.
On my left was Hubbard. He had assumed the attitude that of late had
become characteristic when he was dreaming of his wife and his mother
and his far-away home. His elbows were resting on his knees, and his
hands were supporting his head. His long hair hid his bony fingers and
framed his poor, wan face. His sunken eyes, with their look of wistful
longing, were fixed on the blazing logs.
The silence became so oppressive that I had to break it:
"George," I said, "were you never hungry before?"
"Never in my life was short of grub till now," he answered shortly.
At that Hubbard, aroused from his reverie, looked up.
"Well, I can tell you, George," he said, "there are worse places than
Labrador to starve in."
"How's that?" grunted George.
"If you had been as hungry as I have been in New York City, you'd know
what I mean," said Hubbard. "It's a heap worse to be hungry where
there's lots of grub around you than in the bush where there's none. I
remember that when I first went to New York, and was looking for work,
I found myself one rainy night with only five cents in my pocket. It
was all the money I had in the world, and I hadn't any friends in the
city, and I didn't want to write home, because nearly all the people
there had no faith in my venture. I was soaking wet and good and
hungry; I hadn't been eating much for several days. Well, I went to a
bakery and blew in my last nickel on stale rolls and crullers and took
them to my room. Then I took off my wet clothes and got into bed to
get warm and snug, and there I ate my rolls and crullers, and they were
bully. Yes, I remember that although my room rent was overdue, a
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