alk led to the water, and here at a small wharf floated a motor-boat,
graceful in appearance, and capable of carrying passengers and freight.
Several Indian men were standing on the wharf, while others, including
women and children, were paddling in canoes but a short distance away.
It was a scene of peace and seclusion, a regular fairy-land nestling
there in the wilds. Even the storms of winter could not affect the
place, for besides the sheltering trees which surrounded it on all
sides, the frowning ridge of the Golden Crest formed a mighty barrier
to the rear.

But Glen noticed none of these things, for something else occupied her
mind this evening. She had remained silent since leaving the store,
but now that the house was in sight, she halted Midnight at the edge of
the woods and looked at her Indian companion.

"Is daddy home yet?" she asked, speaking in the rhythmical native
language with which she was so familiar.

"Not home," was the brief reply.

"He said that he might come to-day, didn't he?"

The Indian, merely nodded.

"He has been gone for nearly a week now," Glen continued, "and I wonder
what can be keeping him. Do you think he will come to-night?"

"Sconda doesn't know. Big white chief alone knows."

Glen laughed and stroked Midnight's neck with an impatient hand.

"I guess you are right, Sconda. Daddy alone knows what he is going to
do, for he never tells me, at any rate. But as he is not here I must
take matters into my own hands. You know Deep Gulch beyond the Golden
Crest?" and she motioned to the left.

Again the Indian nodded.

"Well, then, there is a dead bear in the Gulch, Sconda, and I want you
to take men and bring it in, see?"

A new light now shone in the native's eyes, and he looked enquiringly
into the girl's face.

"Bear?" he asked. "In Deep Gulch?"

"Yes, and a grizzly at that; a monster. Oh, it was terrible!" and Glen
shivered as the recollection of the brute's fierce charge swept upon
her.

"Bear dead, eh?" Sconda queried.

"Yes, dead, and lying in the ravine, half covered with earth and rocks.
Go down Crooked Trail to the bottom, then up the gulch, and you will
find it."

"Who shoot grizzly?" the Indian asked.

"A white man. And, oh, Sconda, you should have seen what a shot he
made! It was wonderful! I am sure you never did anything like it."

"Greater than Sconda made at Saku, when he shot grizzly, and saved
Injun, eh?"

"Greater? Listen, Sconda