ho are you?" he repeated, as if it were the most natural question in
the world, and deserved an answer.

And she could not refuse the answer, though she felt ashamed of
herself, and ashamed of her parents, who had neglected their own
kindred. The name had to be said. "Mildrid Tingvold," she whispered,
and burst into tears.

It was true enough; the Tingvold people had given him little reason to
care for them. Of his own free will he would scarcely have spoken to
one of them. But he had never foreseen anything like this, and he
looked at the girl in amazement. He seemed to remember some story of
her mother having cried like that in church on her wedding-day.
"Perhaps it's in the family," he thought, and turned to go. "Forgive
me for having frightened you," he said, and took his way up the
hillside after his dog.

By the time she ventured to look up he had just reached the top of the
ridge, and there he turned to look at her. It was only for an instant,
for at that moment the dog barked on the other side. Hans gave a
start, held his gun in readiness, and hurried on. Mildrid was still
gazing at the place where he had stood, when a shot startled her.
Could that be the bear? Could it have been so near her?

Off she went, climbing where he had just climbed, till she stood where
he had stood, shading her eyes with her hand, and--sure enough, there
he was, half hidden by a bush, on his knees beside a huge bear! Before
she knew what she was doing, she was down beside him. He gave her a
smile of welcome, and explained to her, in his low voice, how it had
happened that they had lost the track and the dog had not scented the
animal till they were almost upon it. By this time she had forgotten
her tears and her bashfulness, and he had drawn his knife to skin the
bear on the spot. The flesh was of no value at this time; he meant to
bury the carcass and take only the skin. So she held, and he skinned;
then she ran down to the soeter for an axe and a spade; and although
she still felt afraid of the bear, and it had a bad smell, she kept on
helping him till all was finished. By this time it was long past
twelve o'clock, and he invited himself to dinner at the soeter. He
washed himself and the skin, no small piece of work, and then came in
and sat beside her while she finished preparing the food.

He chatted about one thing and another, easily and pleasantly, in the
low voice that seems to become natural to people who are much alone.