"The mother kissing the child."—Page 49
"By mighty!" said Hugh, "I can't shoot at that bear, and I don't believe you can either, son."
"Not much, we'll let them go."
They lay there and watched the bears go around the hill, and presently the old one saw the horses and the camp equipage far below in the valley. She stood on her hind legs and looked for a long time, evidently much puzzled as to what these strange objects were, but after looking for awhile she came down on all fours again, called her young ones to her by a low cry, trotted off around the hill out of sight, and then made her way back as she had come.
They watched her for a long time, until she was hidden behind the swells of the prairie, and then Jack sat up and said to Hugh, "That's the prettiest thing I ever saw, and I don't feel as if I ever could shoot at a bear again after seeing it."
"Well," said Hugh, "that's saying a good deal, but I tell you I wouldn't have shot at that bear for a farm."
The sun was low when they reached camp on their return. They had eaten when they made camp, but Hugh said that he believed that Jack could eat again, and they cooked a little meat and warmed up some of the coffee that was in the pot, and made up a good fire, by which they sat for a long time.
Hugh said, "I reckon this is about the last regular camp fire we can have. We're getting up into the country now where we're liable to run across Indians, and while I don't think there's a mite of danger to be looked for from any of 'em, still I'd just as leave they wouldn't see us."
"What Indians live in this country, Hugh?"