He began to hope that maybe the rain had discouraged the Indians, but that hope only lasted an hour. July got on his horse, adjusted his bedroll and sat looking at the river. He had a razor in his pack and might have managed to cut his own throat, but his pack was on the other side of the fire and he knew he would never be able to crawl to it. I remember when I had to cheat at cards to get a poke.
Give all them hides for her. There might be Indians that way, he said. MacKenzie said he'd get him, only he didn't. He's getting tired of making this trip, the cook said.