lled the
kite, and robbed him of his prey, instead of using his industry and
getting food for himself. That's why I added a link to your chain."

"In that sense," replied Lucien, smiling at his brother--who seemed a
little ruffled at being thus charged with unnecessary cruelty,--"in that
sense you were, perhaps, justifiable; though it is difficult to
understand why the eagle was more guilty than the kite himself. He took
only one life, and so did the kite."

"But," rejoined Basil, "in addition to taking away the life of his
victim, he robbed him. Robbery and murder both. Now the kite was
guilty only of the latter."

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Lucien and Francois together. "There _is_ a
distinction with a difference!"

"But, brother Luce," inquired Francois, "what did you mean when you said
there might be many more links to this chain?"

"Why, who knows but the blue-winged fly was preying upon some other
creatures smaller than himself? And these again, upon others still
less; who, though invisible to our eyes, possess life and organisation
as well as we. Who knows to the contrary? And who knows the reason why
a mysterious Providence has created those beings to be the food of each
other? That is a question about which we can arrive at no satisfactory
conclusion."

"Who knows, brother," said Francois, "since you are speculating--who
knows but there may be an extra link at the other end of the chain? Ho,
Basil! what say you? Suppose we fall in with grizzly bears." And
Francois laughed as he put the question.

"And supposing we do," replied Basil, "_you_ are as likely to form that
link as anybody else."

"Heaven forbid!" exclaimed Lucien. "I hope that in all our travels we
shall see neither a grizzly bear nor an Indian."

"And I hope for nothing of the sort," rejoined Basil. "I long to have a
crack at a grizzly; and as for Indians, I haven't the least fear of
them, so long as I carry this."

As Basil made this remark, he drew out the little beaded case from his
bosom, held it up a moment, and then returned it to its place again.

"Now, brother," cried Francois, "tell as about that pouch, and how it is
to save us from Indians. I am really curious to know."

"Not now, my boy," replied Basil, with a patronising air. "Not now. We
must prepare our supper, and get to sleep. We have lost half a day
drying our rags, so we must make up for it by an early start in the
morning. Then for the prairies!"

"T