“No; gold ain’t no use ter me, or I could find it soon enough.”
“It can not be diamonds?”
“Better’n diamonds, young ’un; better’n gold; better’n beaver, even.”
“What can you be talking of?” said Rafe, impatiently.
“Never you mind about that. I know what I’m talking about, and when I get home I’ll show you my treasure.”
At a turn in the path they were traversing they came suddenly upon a huge bear, which reared upon its haunches and sat, in a silly way, looking at them, with its tongue hanging out. Rafe Norris, who had no love for close companionship with a grizzly, dropped his rifle into the hollow of his hand, and was about to fire, when Old Pegs struck up the weapon.
“Don’t shoot that b’ar, confound you!” he cried. “He’s mine.”
“A pet bear! Is that your treasure, then?”
“Not a bit of it,” replied Old Pegs. “Kinder inquisitive, ain’t you?”
“You have aroused my curiosity, I must confess,” replied Rafe.