“Tidy few, my lad; tidy few; and pretty big uns sometimes,” said the man, with a twinkle of the eye. “But berries has been rather plentiful these last two years, and they haven’t eat us yet. I wouldn’t interfere with ’em, though, if you met any.”

“Dangerous?” said Gunson, giving me a merry look.

“Well, it’s just as it happens,” said the man, watching Esau’s mouth, which had slowly opened; “if they takes a fancy to you, they opens their arms, and just gives you a friendly hug; if they don’t, they are a bit given to scratching and clawing. Where may you be going, squire?” he added, turning to me.

“Fort Elk,” I said.

“Oh! Fort Elk, where they collects the skins. I know. Well, you won’t get there to-morrow, nor yet next week. Pleasant journey to you. Don’t want to buy a bit o’ bacon, I suppose?”

But Gunson said he did, and the transfer was made for a handful of tobacco, Quong grinning with delight at the sight of the red streaks of lean amongst the pinky-white fat, and apparently pleased with the prospect of carrying a few more pounds.

That night we slept at a shanty, and for the next two nights we had no need to camp out; while, what was of great import to us, we found that we need be under no apprehension about provisions, the people, who had settled down where they found open patches of grazing land, being willing enough to sell or barter away flour enough for our wants.


Chapter Twenty Six.