"I know it. I am sure of what I myself would do for one I love—I loved I mean, and they—"
"And they will find me?"
The man shook his head.
"I am afraid they will be convinced that you have gone down with the flood. Didn't you have a cap or—"
"Yes," said the woman, "and a sweater. The bear you shot covered the sweater with blood. I could not put it on again."
As she spoke she flushed a glorious crimson at the remembrance of that meeting, but the man was looking away with studied care. She thanked him in her heart for such generous and kindly consideration.
"They will have gone down the stream with the rest, and it's just possible that the searchers may find them, the body of the bear too. This river ends in a deep mountain lake and I think it is going to snow, it will be frozen hard to-morrow."
"And they will think me—there?"
"I am afraid so."
"And they won't come up here?"