Tim was standing with his back toward the fire, and his hands, carelessly crossed behind him. He was intently watching the quarrelsome animals, and all thoughts of attack in the rear had for the time departed. Shasta leaned silently forward and lifted a small brand to relight his pipe, which had gone out some time before. As he was passing it back to the embers the red coal just grazed one of Tim's fingers, while at the same instant the Indian imitated the snarl of the wolverine so exactly that the follow was sure he was seized, and he made the most agile leap of his life.
"Murther! murther! pull him off, Mr. Shasta, catch hold of him!" exclaimed the affrighted Irishman, springing wildly on every side of the fire, and striking with blind fierceness at the imaginary brute in his rear.
Howard and Elwood laughed till the tears rolled down their cheeks. They had seen Shasta's trick and they could therefore appreciate it. Never a smile lit up the grim face of the Pah Utah. He continued leisurely smoking, his keen black eyes looking dreamily into the fire, as if lost in some pleasant reverie.
But what of that? Who can doubt, that he laughed internally full as heartily as the youngsters? Who can tell what surges, and waves, and ripples of laughter went through and through him, until his whole being was absorbed in merriment?
Finally Tim's terror passed away and he became comparatively quiet.
"Worrah! worrah!" he exclaimed, panting from his severe exertions. "What a narra 'scape I had."
"Did he really bite you?"
"Bite me! Didn't ye see him fasten his teeth in me and hang on till I shuk him off?"
"No; I didn't observe him."
"Git out wid ye nonsense. But I felt him sure and it was meself that thought once he'd pull me off into the darkness and make me a prey to the beasts there—that I did think, did I."