"and then we might have done something of the sort? But
surely the shot I gave him must tell in the long-run."

"Pooh!" said Jack, "it's not much more to him than an over-dose of
mustard would be to a cat. However, we've nothing for it but to wait.
Perhaps Buckley may have heard our shots."

In this conjecture Jack was right. The gold-miner was enjoying an
unsocial cup of tea at the time, and fortunately heard the distant shots
and shouting. Buckley was a prompt man. Loading his double barrel with
ball as he ran, he suddenly made his appearance on the field, saw at a
glance how matters stood, and, being a good shot, put two balls in the
bear's carcass with deadly effect. Grizzly bears are, however,
remarkably tenacious of life. This one at once turned on his new foe,
who, getting behind a tree, re-loaded as quickly as possible. As the
animal passed he put two more balls in its heart and killed it.

"Splendidly done!" cried Jack, leaping to the ground and shaking Buckley
by the hand, as he thanked him for his timely aid. Almost in the same
breath he told of their unexpected good fortune.

"Now, then," he added, "we'll cut off the claws of this fellow as a
trophy, and then to camp and supper."

"Stop a bit, not so fast," said Wilkins, who had descended the tree and
was sitting on the ground with a most lugubrious countenance; "we must
gather up my nuggets before going. Besides, it strikes me there's
something wrong with my ankle."

This was found to be too true. In scrambling into the tree Watty had
sprained his ankle badly, and in jumping down had made it so much worse
that he could not bear to put even his toe to the ground. He was
compelled, therefore, to accept the services of Jacob Buckley, who
carried him into camp on his back.

Despite his sufferings poor Wilkins rejoiced that night with his
comrades at their good fortune, and it was long before he or they could
cease to talk over future plans and take needful rest. At length
Buckley rolled himself in his blanket, and lay down.

"Poor fellow," said Jack, seeing Watty wince a little, "does it hurt
much?"

"Yes, rather, but I'll be all right to-morrow. Now, Jack, I'm going to
sleep. Do me a favour before turning in. Just make a pile of my
nuggets close to my pillow here, with the big one on the top. There,
thanks."

"What a covetous little wretch you are becoming!" said Jack with a
laugh, as he lay down. "Have a care, Watty, that you don