ing shadowy with the coming of night.
Before the old rail fence came into view, the Hermit was spent with
fatigue, while Dave Lansing was all but fainting from the pain of his
rough ride.

At length, however, the cabin was reached. The almost frozen trapper was
gradually thawed out and his wound dressed, the Hermit showing himself
wonderfully skillful in the process. This done, the host set about the
preparation of supper while Dave lay comfortably in the bunk watching
him, with a warm glow of thankfulness for his rescue and a determination
to be more humane in his dealings with the creatures of the wild. As for
Pal, he dozed contentedly before the fire, his eyes occasionally turning
to the man whom he had rescued from death, but for the most part
following every movement of his adored master.

THE CALL OF THE SPRING

As the days began to lengthen and the sun climbed higher, the forest
country of the north stirred under the icy fetters that had bound it for
long, weary months, during which the snow had drifted deep and famine
had stalked the trails. Under the influence of a warm south wind the
sunlit hours became musical with the steady drip, drip of melting snow,
while new life seemed to flow in the veins of the forest creatures grown
gaunt under the pinch of hunger. Only Kagh, the porcupine, had remained
full fed, but Kagh had been unusually blessed by a kind Providence, in
that every tree held a meal for him in its soft inner fibers.

It was yet too early to expect the final breaking up of winter. There
would still be days when the cold would be intense and snow would drift
in the trails. Nevertheless spring had called, and even the sluggish
blood of the porcupine responded. Every day the earth's white mantle
grew more frayed about the edges, leaving a faint tinge of green on
warm southward slopes.

It was on one of these mild days that Mokwa, the black bear, shouldered
aside the underbrush which concealed the mouth of the snug cave where he
had hibernated, and stepped forth into the awakening world. Half blinded
by the glare of sunlight upon the snow, he stood blinking in the doorway
before he shambled down the slope to a great oak tree where a vigorous
scratching among the snow and leaves brought to light a number of
acorns. These he devoured greedily and, having crunched the last sweet
morsel, sniffed eagerly about for more. Mokwa had fasted long, and now
his appetite demanded more hearty fare than nu