Brave and True | Page 7

which filled his eyes
at the thought.
"Woodpecker will fetch the medicine. Woodpecker owes a big debt to
his paleface sister, and Indians have grateful hearts," said the red man
gravely.
Jem eagerly held out to him a piece of paper, but Woodpecker shook
his head.
"My brother shall speak himself to the medicine-man," he said, and,
raising the boy on his broad shoulders, he strode away quickly towards
the village. It was scarcely daylight and no one was yet stirring, or the
sight of an Indian carrying a white boy would have excited some
curiosity.
The doctor's sleepy assistant, who hastily answered Woodpecker's loud
rap on the door, rubbed his eyes and stared, but he had a wholesome
awe of such a visitor, and, making up the 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