CHAPTER V.
A WONDERFUL ANIMAL.
As Harry Northend crept out from beneath the matted undergrowth, that surrounded the Blackfoot camp, and came in view of his rifle, where he had left it lying upon the ground, he saw not Old Ruff Robsart, nor a repulsive Indian, but a grizzly bear.
And not such a bear as naturalists and hunters tell us about, of a black or tawny color, but something sui generis—something such as he was sure no mortal had ever heard of before, or was ever to hear of again.
For, instead of being of the midnight hue that universally characterizes his species, this one was striped with green and blue and red from head to tail!
As soon as the lad had recovered in a degree his self-possession, he rubbed his eyes and looked again, doubting whether he had seen aright.
Yes; there was no mistake about it. There was the creature, the conformation of his head and body proving that he was a genuine grizzly bear beyond all question, and the only remarkable thing about him was his color, and that surely was remarkable enough.
“I have heard of men seeing such things as that,” he mused, as, crouching on his hands and knees, he riveted his eyes upon it, “but it was always when they were drunk, and I am sure I have never been in that condition, and never shall be.”
The bear was of rather large size, but not unusually so, but the lad judged from his appearance that he was very fierce and savage, and, in his way, was probably as dangerous as a half-dozen red-skins.
His alarm would have been somewhat less had the position of the creature been such as to afford him a hope of securing his gun; but, as matters stood, that was clearly out of the question.
For the mottled grizzly was snuffing and clawing the weapon as if he had some curiosity to find out its use.