lk took heed to the tidings, and slunk into their lairs.

CHAPTER XIX

THE PURSUIT

After Dusty Star had dropped from his tree to escape the grizzly, his
one thought was to put as much distance as possible between himself and
his terrible foe. He ran on and on, listening fearfully for any sounds
which should tell him that the bear was in pursuit. Yet the fear of what
was behind was not all. There was an equally great danger in front lest
he should find himself face to face with the returning Indians who had
gone out to seek the bear. His dread was all the greater because he knew
that it was the same direction in which he was now travelling which they
had taken on leaving the camp, and that it was extremely probable that,
not having come upon the grizzly, they would now be on the homeward
trail. At the slightest sound, he would stop, and listen, nervously
scanning the trees ahead lest he should catch sight of a red-skin figure
standing motionless in the shade. And behind, he would listen for the
pad, pad of great bear feet, or the rustling of leaves in the pursuit.
Yet in spite of all alarms, the sun was sloping a long way to the west
when Dusty Star found himself still undiscovered and working his way
along the side of a great hill many miles to the northward of the camp.

He continued to travel swiftly, yet still with the utmost silence.
Although he saw little of any wild creatures, he was aware of their
presence, though most of them kept well out of sight as they crouched in
hiding, or drifted soundlessly as driven smoke along the ancient
deer-paths that had been worn by the feet of the wilderness, age after
countless age.

As the day wore on, it grew darker under the trees, and presently he
noted the on-coming of that swift northern twilight which so soon
deepens into night. So far, he had not struck any trail which could
cause him uneasiness; and although a few moons earlier he might have
stood in fear of some of the larger and fiercer of the forest beasts,
his intimacy with Kiopo had taught him many things which kept the fear
at bay. And yet, as he glided softly along, stepping as warily as one of
the deer themselves, his fear of the greater beasts seemed to have
passed into an awe of the forest itself. Often and often, in the deep
stillness there had come to him a sense of something behind the beasts,
elder to the oldest of them, more wise than the most cunning, which ran
when they ran, stalked you wi