“I fired the last, and brought her down,” said Bart quietly enough.
“That’s right,” said Joses, “that’s right; you ought to be a good shot now.”
“But are you not hurt at all?” asked Bart.
“Well, I can’t say as I arn’t hurt,” replied Joses, “because she knocked all the wind out of me as she sent me down so quickly, and she scratched a few bits of skin off as well as my clothes, but that don’t matter: skin grows again, clothes don’t. Humph, here comes the Doctor with the things.”
“A narrow escape for him, Bart. But how about the grizzly?”
“Dead, sir, quite dead,” replied Bart. “Are we likely to see Mr Grizzly as well?”
“No, I think not, my boy. Mother and cubs generally go together.”
“Now, Joses, let me dress your back.”
“No, thank ye, master, I can dress myself, bless you.”
“No, no, I mean apply some of this dressing to those terrible scratches.”