ck.
He shot some small game in the mountains, which he cooked for his
supper, slept on the ground, and started on the trail again in the
morning.

"Along in the forenoon he came in sight of the bear as he was crossing a
stream. He had a good shot at him as he was climbing the bank on the
other side.

"The bear kept on, but it was easier tracking him after that by his
blood.

"That evening a hunter, haggard, his clothes all in tatters, found his
way to a backwoodsman's hut over in White's Valley. It was Rush. He told
his story in a few words as he rested on a stool. He had found no traces
of his child, but he had killed the bear. It was Old Two Claws. He had
left him on the hills, and came to the settlement for help.

"The hunt had taken him a round-about course, and he was then not more
than seven miles from home. The next day, gun in hand, with the
bear-skin strapped to his back,--the carcass had been given to his
friend the backwoods-man,--he started to return by an easier way through
the woods.

"It was a sad revenge he had had, but there was a grim sort of
satisfaction in lugging home the hide of the terrible Old Two Claws.

"As he came in sight of his log-house, out ran his wife to meet him,
with--what do you suppose?--little Johnny dragging at her skirts, and
the lost child in her arms.

"Then, for the first time, the man dropped; but he didn't get down any
further than his knees. He clung to his wife and baby, and thanked God
for the miracle.

"But it wasn't much of a miracle, after all.

"Little Johnny had been playing around the door, and lost sight of the
baby, and maybe forgotten all about him, when he strayed into the woods
and saw the bear. Then he remembered all that he had heard of the danger
of being carried off and eaten, and of course he had a terrible fright.
When asked about his little brother, he didn't know anything about him,
and I suppose really imagined that the bear had got him.

"But the baby had crawled into a snug place under the side of the
rain-trough, and there he was fast asleep all the while. Then he woke up
two or three hours after, and the mother heard him cry; her husband was
far away on the hunt.

"True,--this story I've told you?" added the one-eyed hostler, as some
one questioned him. "Every word of it!"

"But your name is Rush, isn't it?" I said.

The one eye twinkled humorously.

"My name is Rush. My uncle's brother-in-law was my own father."

"And you?" exc