“Don’t do that, lad!”
“But they have gone,” protested Reuben.
“You can’t trust them. No one knows how far away they are. They may simply be waiting for us.”
“But I’m all cramped, I have been here so long. It doesn’t seem to me I can stay much longer.”
“Oh, yes, you can,” called Kit Carson encouragingly. “We can stay here all night, if we have to.”
It was late in the afternoon when at last a low call from Kit Carson caused Reuben to descend the tree. His muscles were so stiff from remaining such a long time in his cramped position that it was with difficulty that he was able to walk. His friend stopped for a moment as soon as he drew near and showed Reuben how he stretched his own weary muscles and exercised his arms which were almost numb.
“Do you think the bears have gone for good and all?” inquired Reuben.
“I think so. You had better load your rifle, though I don’t know that it would do you very much good. I have known a grizzly to be shot in the head, and, as far as one could see, pay about as much attention to the bullet as he would to a pebble. They must have heads that are mighty strong and thick. However,” he continued, “see that your rifle is all ready and we’ll start.”
Cautiously the two trappers made their way from the place where both had been so nearly caught, and after a quarter of an hour had elapsed Kit Carson declared that the bears must have gone in the opposite direction from the one which they were following and were no longer to be feared. Somewhat assured by his companion’s confidence, Reuben nevertheless kept a careful watch as with his friend he advanced through the valley.
The young hunter was greatly surprised when they came near to the end of the valley to discover a small Indian village before them. He had been unaware of the presence of the redmen and now that he saw this camp his fears returned.