'I count thirteen.'
'You can count 'em? I can't even see 'em. They coming for us?'
[...]
'How long do we have?'
She sucked a mouthful out of the skin and worked it round, spat it out. 'Depends how hard they go.' She took another mouthful and swallowed. 'They are going hard now. They keep that up, they could be on us late tonight, or maybe dawn tomorrow.' She handed the skin back.
- Before They Are Hanged, Part I, Long Odds