for the skinning of the bear. When it
was done, it, along with all the scattered things, was placed in the
canoe, and then Redhand, approaching the artist, touched his cap and
said--

"You have shared our hunt to-day, sir; mayhap you'll not object to share
our camp and our supper."

"Most willingly, my good friend," replied the artist, rising and holding
out his hand, which the trapper shook heartily. "You seem to be
trappers."

"We are, sir, at your service. It's gettin' late and we've a good bit
to go yet, before we come to the place where we mean to camp, so you'd
better come at once."

"Certainly; by all means; let us embark without delay," replied the
artist, pocketing his sketch-book.

"Pardon me, sir," said Redhand, with some hesitation, "are you alone?"

"I am," replied the other sadly; then, as if a sudden thought had struck
him--"I had two pistols and a cloak once."

"We've picked 'em up, sir. They're in the canoe now. At least the
pistols are, an' what's left o' the cloak."

"Ha! 'twas an old and cherished friend! Are you ready?"

"All ready, sir."

So saying, the old man led the way to the canoe and embarked with his
strange companion. Then, pushing out into the stream just as the shades
of night began to descend upon the wilderness, the trappers paddled
swiftly away, wondering in their hearts who and what the stranger could
be, and talking occasionally in subdued tones of the chief incidents of
the exciting combat through which they had so recently passed.

CHAPTER FIVE.

FIERY REMARKS AND COGITATIONS--ROUND THE CAMP FIRE--THE ARTIST GIVES AN
ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF--VALUE OF A SKETCH-BOOK--DISCOVERIES AND DARK
THREATS--THE BEAR'S-CLAW COLLAR.

There is no doubt whatever that a western trapper knows how to make a
fire. That is an axiomatic certainty. He also knows how to enjoy it.
He is thoroughly conversant with it in all its phases, and with all the
phenomena connected with it, from the bright little spark that flies
from his flint and steel, and nestles on his piece of tinder, to the
great rolling flame that leaps up among the branches of the forest
trees, roaring lustily as it goes out upon the night air, like a mighty
spirit set free from some diminutive prison house, rejoicing in being
once more permitted to reassume its original grand dimensions.

Yes, a western trapper has a grand, massive notion of a fire, and his
actions are all in keeping with that notion. Almost everyt