"Down there in the willows where I crossed the creek--I came down that low, saggy place in the hill--I saw a lot of chickens or something--partridges, maybe you call them--roosting in a tree with their feathers all puffed out.

It's nearly dark, but they're worth trying for, don't you think?
That is, if you have a gun," she added, as if she had begun to realize how meagre were his possessions.

"If you don't happen to have one, we can do all right with what there is here, you know." Billy flushed a little, and for answer took down his gun and belt from where they hung upon the wall, buckled the belt around his slim middle and picked up his hat.

"If they're there yet, I'll get some, sure," he promised.

"You just keep the fire going till I come back, and I'll wash the dishes.