d him home, and was now his constant friend.

[Illustration]

It was strange to see how the child oscillated between the two lives,
sometimes talking to his people exactly as he used to talk, and
sometimes running on all fours, growling, hissing, and tussling with the
Badger. Many a game of "King of the Castle" they had together on the low
pile of sand left after the digging of a new well. Each would climb to
the top and defy the other to pull him down, till a hold was secured and
they rolled together to the level, clutching and tugging, Harry
giggling, the Badger uttering a peculiar high-pitched sound that might
have been called snarling had it not been an expression of good nature.
Surely it was a Badger laugh. There was little that Harry could ask
without receiving, in those days, but his mother was shocked when he
persisted that the Badger must sleep in his bed; yet she so arranged it.
The mother would go in the late hours and look on them with a little
pang of jealousy as she saw her baby curled up, sleeping soundly with
that strange beast.

It was Harry's turn to feed his friend now, and side by side they sat to
eat. The Badger had become an established member of the family. But
after a month had gone by an incident took place that I would gladly
leave untold.

THE HUMAN BRUTE

Grogan, the unpleasant neighbour, who had first frightened Harry into
the den, came riding up to the Service homestead. Harry was in the house
for the moment. The Badger was on the sand pile. Instantly on catching
sight of it, Grogan unslung his gun and exclaimed, "A Badger!" To him a
Badger was merely something to be killed. "Bang!" and the kindly animal
rolled over, stung and bleeding, but recovered and dragged herself
toward the house. "Bang!" and the murderer fired again, just as the
inmates rushed to the door--too late. Harry ran toward the Badger
shouting, "Badgie! my Badgie!" He flung his baby arms around the
bleeding neck. It fawned on him feebly, purring a low, hissing purr,
then mixing the purrs with moans, grew silent, and slowly sank down, and
died in his arms. "My Badgie! my Badgie!" the boy wailed, and all the
ferocity of his animal nature was directed against Grogan.

"You better get out of this before I kill you!" thundered the father,
and the hulking halfbreed sullenly mounted his horse and rode away.

A great part of his life had been cut away and it seemed as though a
deathblow had been dealt the boy. The shock