Thus the custom of the men bringing in the bear or moose became established, and no one left, for the objectors knew that they were far better off at Glen West than they had ever been in their lives, and that it was to their advantage to obey their Big White Chief, as they called Weston.
Glen waited impatiently for the men's return, and the hours dragged slowly by until their arrival about the middle of the afternoon. They had skinned the bear, and cutting up the carcass, they had strapped the pieces upon their horses. They rode gaily into camp, and most of the inhabitants of the place were gathered around the store to acclaim their arrival. All had heard of the wonderful shot across Deep Gulch, and they were naturally curious to see the monster which had dared to face the Big Chief's daughter. There was the certainty, too, of fresh meat, which added much to the interest.
Sconda, however was not with the returned men, and Glen was greatly disappointed. Her rescuer, then, had not come back to the gulch, so he evidently had no more thought for her. She had imagined that he would be anxious to obtain the grizzly's fine skin as a souvenir of his meeting with her. At first she was tempted to ride forth toward Crooked Trail and await Sconda's return, but changing her mind, she launched her light canoe, and was soon skimming out over the water of the big lake. She generally took an Indian girl, or Sconda with her. But now she wished to be alone, that she might think as she drifted or paddled.
For over an hour she remained on the water, and when she returned, Sconda was waiting for her on the shore. Her face brightened as she saw him, and she at once questioned him about her rescuer.
"Did you see him?" she asked.
"Ah, ah. Sconda see white man."
"And did he see you?"
"Ah, ah."
"Oh! Did he stay long at Deep Gulch?"
A shake of the head was the native's only response.