kness which enveloped
everything.

The rescuing party sent in search discovered me, still breathing, the
thick snow into which I had fallen having congealed over my wound and
stopped the flow of blood.

The bear had fled without touching me, the report of the rifle having
apparently proved too much for his nerves. He did not live long,
however, for the following day he was tracked to his underground home,
and there despatched. His skin is among my most cherished trophies, and
I never look at it without remembering my first and last encounter with
a grizzly.

CHAPTER SIX.

UP THE MOUNTAIN, BY FRANCES E CROMPTON.

Little Kirl kept the goats on the mountain. Little Kirl was very
little, his legs were very short, his body was very round and chubby,
and he could certainly not have overtaken an active and badly-disposed
goat, whatever had been the consequences. So it was a fortunate thing
that they did not require much herding. He had only to drive them to
the pastures on the mountain in the morning, and home again in the
evening, and the young ones followed the old ones, round whose necks the
tinkling bells were hung.

Little Kirl had only begun to keep the goats this summer, and he thought
when one has become a real live goat-herd one is in a fair way to become
a man. How all the other little boys in the village must envy him--poor
things, not yet promoted to manhood! And he had a crooked stick also,
and a little pipe on which he could really play several notes; and this
was the way he went up the mountain.

First there were the goats to be driven out of the gate, and what a
thing it was to walk after them, playing those three notes with
variations, and trying not to look too proud of himself! It was not a
very large village, to be sure, the little cluster of brown chalets and
the tiny pink-washed church beside the pine-wood; but to Kirl it was a
whole world looking on and admiring. He blew his three notes louder
with a more and more cheerful trill all down the street. At the
cross-roads below the church the greatest caution had to be exercised to
keep the frisky kids from going the wrong way, but it was worth the
trouble. Only think how well it looked to drive them close together,
and to fence them off, first on one side and then on the other, with the
crooked stick, and then, with an air as if he thought nothing of it,
turn them all successfully into the narrow path, and strike up the three
notes