“Yes; and knocked it off the slope, and we went down together for a little way rolling over and over. Then I found I was alone, for the bear had clawed about and stopped itself; but I was sliding and slipping there down and down, I don’t know how far, but it must have been hundreds of feet over the steep snow, till I rolled over among the stones and cut my head.”
“Hey, and she has cut it! Hadn’t she petter tie it up?”
“Oh, that’s nothing.”
“Put what tid the pear to?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see any more of it. I suppose it’s up there in the mountain somewhere. I say, Watty, I wish I’d had Skeny with me. I don’t know, though; perhaps the bears would have killed him. Where are the others?”
“They’re gone to leuk for you. She’s waiting for them to come pack.”
“Have they got Skeny with them? He ought to have scented me out, so that they could have shot the bears.”
“Skeny? Na; she tidn’t see the tog.”
Steve started.
“Why, Watty, I don’t remember seeing him when we turned back with the deer; did you?”