Brave and True | Page 7

medicine, delivered it to Jem with unusual speed.
The second Indian had disappeared on the way to the doctor's, and the two strangely-matched companions immediately set out on their return journey through the forest, which was rapidly traversed by Woodpecker, and by four o'clock in the morning he set Jem down on the threshold of his Father's door.
"Will you not stay and see how Mother is? Father would like to thank you," said Jem.
"Not now," replied Woodpecker, taking with a grave and courteous smile the small hand extended to him, "but say to my good white sister that her Indian brother does not forget kindness and that Woodpecker will return."
And as the farmer, roused by the sound of voices, opened the door, the tall figure of the red man disappeared into the forest. Jem was made happy by finding his Mother better when, after having explained matters to his Father, he was carried in and placed on the bed beside her. And after they were both recovered he had many a grand day's hunting with the friendly and grateful Indian, who had taken a great liking for the brave little lad, whom he ever afterwards caused his tribe to respect as his English brother Jem.
CHAPTER FOUR.
IN THE COUNTRY, BY F GRAY SEVERNE.
Ducklings big and ducklings small, This is how we feed them all-- Yellowbill and Featherbreast, Speckletail, and all the rest:--
On sweet meal they dine and sup-- Oh, how fast they eat it up! 'Tis indeed a pretty sight-- Soon the bucket's empty quite.
"Quack!" when dinner is begun; "Quack!" they say when it is done; Though it wasn't known before, "Quack's" a duckling's word for "more."
Then the pretty feathered things Tuck their heads beneath their wings, Just as if for rest inclined, Quacking: "How well we have dined!"
Later on, at evening cool, You will find them in the pool; Yellowbill and Featherbreast, Speckletail, and all the rest!
CHAPTER FIVE.
MY ENCOUNTER WITH A GRIZZLY, BY ARTHUR J DANIELS.
The winter had set in early, and with unusual severity, when I reached Logville, the appropriate name given to the little mining camp which hid itself away in the vast wilderness of the Rocky Mountains. A roving disposition, combined with a love of sport, and a desire to put on canvas some record of the wonderful scenery of the locality, had guided my steps to this out-of-the-world spot.
One morning when the winter was beginning to break, and the snow to show signs of disappearing--sure evidence that the severe weather was passing away--I slung my cloak and a bag of provisions across my shoulders, seized my rifle, and set forth on a solitary stroll. I had gone some considerable distance from the camp when a sudden darkening of the sky told me only too plainly of an approaching storm. Fearful of being caught in the downpour, I began to retrace my steps.
Scarcely had I commenced my homeward journey when a sudden cry caused me to come to an abrupt standstill. A few moments of intense stillness followed. I listened attentively, surveying the surrounding landscape on all sides with the close scrutiny of an experienced hunter, who had enjoyed many a lesson from the Indians. The piled-up rocks, scanty herbage, leafless and motionless trees gave no sign of life. No sound broke the intense solitude. Then, with startling suddenness, another cry, louder and more agonising than the former, echoed across the waste, and this was followed by a deep significant growl.
I knew at once that the voice was that of a human being, and I knew equally well that the growl proceeded from a bear. I had heard that a big "grizzly" had been seen in the neighbourhood, and that a party had been organised to track him to his lair, but had failed to come to close quarters with the wily old fellow.
As these thoughts shaped themselves in my mind there came a shrill and piercing shriek which set every nerve in my body tingling. It was the scream of a woman in mortal terror.
I shouldered, my rifle and turned in the direction from which the sounds proceeded.
Descending a steep cliff, I found myself in a narrow canon through which a mountain stream, swollen by the melting snow, rushed with considerable rapidity. The first object that caught my eye was a woman carrying a child and struggling through the foaming torrent. Then I observed, some little distance to the rear, but following with incredible rapidity, an enormous black bear. He measured at least nine feet from his nose to the tip of his tail, and was broad in proportion. Though of enormous size, he progressed at a speed which was surprising. Something had evidently irritated the brute considerably, for his whole appearance was characteristic of unrestrained ferocity.
I dragged the panting fugitive from the water and, without asking