How, sir,
can a poor man smoke who is without tobacco?"
"Without tobacco--in Guayana!"
"Can you believe it? But, sir, do not blame me; if the beast
that came one night and destroyed my plants when ripe for cutting
had taken pumpkins and sweet potatoes instead, it would have been
better for him, if curses have any effect. And the plant grows
slowly, sir--it is not an evil weed to come to maturity in a
single day. And as for other leaves in the forest, I smoke them,
yes; but there is no comfort to the lungs in such smoke."
"My tobacco-pouch was full," I said. "You will find it in my
coat, if I did not lose it."
"The saints forbid!" he exclaimed. "Grandchild--Rima, have you
got a tobacco-pouch with the other things? Give it to me."
Then I first noticed that another person was in the hut, a slim
young girl, who had been seated against the wall on the other
side of the fire, partially hid by the shadows. She had my
leather belt, with the revolver in its case, and my hunting-knife
attached, and the few articles I had had in my pockets, on her
lap. Taking up the pouch, she handed it to him, and he clutched
it with a strange eagerness.
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