Then he stepped back and pulled up his pants. Is it just the two of you? he asked, buttoning his pants. Her legs were muddy from wading in the creek, her arms still bruised from her troubles with old Sam. I'm better at riding mules.
The bank was only a few feet away and he tried to claw over to it, but that didn't work. Jake was sitting on his bedding, his hair sticking up in back, trying to dig a thorn out of his hand with a pocketknife. To the men, the bear seemed to tower over them, although fifty yards away. He had not seen the wagon go off the creek bank, but he was not surprised that it was broken.
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