Lop-Ear clutched me suddenly, and I could feel him tremble.

I looked more closely, and saw the wizened little old hunter who had shot Broken-Tooth out of the tree years before.

When he got up and walked about, throwing fresh wood upon the fire, I saw that he limped with his crippled leg.

Whatever it was, it was a permanent injury.

He seemed more dried up and wizened than ever, and the hair on his face was quite gray.
The other hunters were young men.