Page:Edison Marshall--Shepherds of the wild.djvu/134



the stars emerged and the little mountain wind sprang up and crept forth in its never-ending explorations of the thickets, the shepherdess explained all things to Hugh's satisfaction. But first there was supper: a meal the like of which he had never tasted before.

The girl cooked it. Hugh watched her, her swift, graceful motions, the ease and strength with which she went about her tasks, and he found an unlooked-for delight in the sight. She had brought fresh stores; and the meal—from Hugh's suddenly rejuvenated point of view—was more nearly a banquet. Were there not new potatoes, roasted in the ashes, flapjacks with syrup, a fresh, white-breasted grouse that she had beheaded with her pistol on the way out, and for dessert dried apples stewed to a succulency and tenderness that passed all description? Hugh had eaten some thousands of meals in his time. He had dined in the most famous cafes and restaurants of Europe, he had been at pretentious dinner parties. Yet he couldn't remember ever experiencing the simple and healthy zest for food, the sheer delight of eating, the amazing appetite that had come upon him now. No