go as were
anticipated. Everything was soon arranged, and then Mrs Ross, taking
the guns, dropped back a little in the rear, and quietly and quickly
reached a good position behind a rock, not far from where it was now
evident the bear intended to land. Carefully arranging her weapons, she
waited until the animal was about fifty or sixty yards away, when
resting one of the guns on the rock, she took deliberate aim at the spot
between the eyes and fired.

No second ball was necessary, for suddenly the head went down and a
lifeless body rose and fell on the shining waves. The bear was stone
dead, and all danger was at once over.

A shout from the children caused her to look, and there she saw it was
caused by the arrival of the two Indians, who, almost breathless, had at
that moment come into view.

As though it were a matter of everyday occurrence, Mrs Ross said to her
men as they reached her:

"Please carry the guns back to the landing place; tell the children to
come ashore; and then you two take the canoe and go and bring in that
dead bear."

The anxiety that had been in the minds of these two Indians during the
last twenty minutes, while they had been running two or three miles,
quickly left them, and there was a gleam of pride in their dark eyes to
think that this cool, brave woman, whose unerring shot had thus killed
the bear, was of their own race and tribe.

Mrs Ross, although cultured and refined and the wife of a great white
man, was always the loving friend of her own people, and did very much
for their comfort and happiness. Here was something done by her that
would, if possible, still more exalt her in their estimation; and so
this story, with various additions and startling situations added on,
long was a favourite one in many a wigwam, and at many a camp fire.

The bear was soon dragged ashore and skinned. It was then cut up and
the meat packed away in the canoe. And the children rejoiced that that
bear would never, never steal any more jam.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

THE WONDERFUL STORY OF APETAK, THE GRATEFUL INDIAN, AND THE DESCRIPTION
OF THE TRIP TO AND VIEW OF THE SILVER CAVE, AS TOLD BY MR. ROSS AT
SAGASTA-WEEKEE.

"Tell us a true story to-night," said little Roderick, the youngest in
the family and the pet of all, as he climbed up on his father's knee.

"Yes, please, Mr Ross," said Sam, "tell us that wonderful story your
father told you about the old Indian and the silver cave."

It