“What does that mean, Johannes, yes or no?”
“Only his way of saying thank you, sir,” replied the Norseman. “He’s hurt, but not badly; because, as you saw, he could run at the bear. He’s a good deal bruised, and he’ll be a bit sore for days; but animals soon get well again. They lick themselves right when they are hurt.”
“But oughtn’t he to be examined?”
“I did look at him, sir. He’s only hurt in the shoulder and ribs, where the bear struck him. There isn’t a trace of blood. Let him lie, sir; he’ll curl up when we get him on board.”
As the dog appeared to be in no pain and was intent upon the skinning process, he was left alone; and the little party followed the dog’s example, till Johannes suddenly looked up.
“I don’t know, gentlemen,” he said; “it’s hardly likely, but I’d post somebody to keep a look-out. The bear’s mate might come to look after him, and they are savage brutes at times.”
“I’ll get on that stone and keep the look-out myself,” said the captain. “No; here comes McByle with the gun. He shall go up on the rock and keep watch. He doesn’t seem to limp much now.”
This was the case, and a few minutes after Andrew was perched up on a pile of rocks some twenty feet above the ground. He accepted the duty most willingly, for the top of the rock seemed to be a particularly safe place; and as soon as he heard the object of his task he scrambled up so rapidly that the captain laughed.
“We need not fidget about McByle’s hurts,” he said; and then he shouted: “Keep a sharp look to the northward, McByle!”
“Ay, ay, sir, she will,” replied the man; and they saw him gaze intently toward the spot where the other bear had disappeared.