This was the way Dick always lectured Frank and Archie whenever they did any thing that astonished him, and a stranger, to have heard him speak, would have supposed that somebody had ordered him to watch the cousins closely, and keep them out of trouble; and that he had found the task an exceedingly difficult one to perform. The stranger would have believed, too, that he was very angry; but the boys knew that the fierce scowl he had assumed was intended to conceal a very different feeling—that he was highly elated over their victory, and that, before a week had passed, he would tell it to every body in the settlement. They knew, also, that the story would lose nothing in passing through his hands; for, although Dick always confined himself strictly to the truth when relating his own adventures, he did not hesitate to exaggerate a little when recounting the exploits of his “youngsters.”
“I wouldn’t be in Uncle Jeems’s boots fur nothin’,” said the trapper, filling his pipe and looking severely at Frank. “He promised your folks, afore we left Lawrence, that he would keep you out of all danger, an’ bring you safe back to your hum; but how he’s a goin’ to do it I can’t tell. I wouldn’t make no sich bargain as that ar’ with no man, ’cause I couldn’t live up to it. What’s the matter with you, little un?”
“I’ve got a broken head, and a lame shoulder, and a cracked nose, and somehow I don’t feel all right,” replied Archie.
“Don’t! Wal, tell us all about it.”
The trapper settled back on his elbow to listen, and Dick Thomas, who was a smooth-tongued fellow, related the story of their adventures from beginning to end. As he proceeded, the scowl gradually faded from the backwoodsman’s face; and when he told how Frank had stood there at the log, and risked his life to secure the retreat of the others, Dick slapped the young hero on the back so heartily that he felt the effects of the blow for a quarter of an hour afterward. When the story was finished, he unsheathed his long bowie and assisted the boys in removing the grizzly’s skin; and as soon as this had been done, he placed Archie on his horse, and led the way toward home.
Their morning’s work had sharpened the boys’ appetites, and the excellent dinner which the housekeeper served up for them rapidly disappeared before their attacks. Even Archie disposed of his full share of the eatables, and after a hearty meal, pushed back his chair, declaring that he was all right, and ready for any thing the others had to propose, even if it was a fight with another Old Davy.
When the grizzly’s skin had been stretched upon a frame to dry, the boys lounged about the house for an hour or two, talking over the incidents of the morning; and then Johnny and Dick bade the cousins good-by, and started for home. Archie was lonesome and restless after they had gone. While Frank sat in his easychair, deeply interested in some favorite author, Archie lay stretched out on the bed, tossing his heels in the air, and scarcely knowing what to do with himself. His lost horse was still uppermost in his mind, and he wanted to talk about him, and about nothing else. There was Frank, as serene and undisturbed as usual, poring over the pages of some dry book, when he knew that the steed he valued so highly was within five miles of him! Archie did not see how any body could read under such circumstances, and he told his cousin so. He did not want to stay in the house either; and, what was more, he wouldn’t. He wanted to go somewhere, and do something.
“Well,” said Frank, laying down his book, “let’s hear what you have to propose. I am quite at your service.”
“Suppose we beard the lion in his den,” said Archie.
“All right. Show me the lion.”