CHAPTER XIII.
Meg of the Hills.
"Meg of the Hills! Meg of the Hills!" So called the bear in a loud voice; very loud, indeed, yet in the tone of the voice was something which Sprigg had not before observed there, so deep and mellow and musical was it. In answer to the summons, forth into the luminous circle, from some mysterious depth of the cavern, soon came gliding a bearess, who seemed in every way a match for the bear, excepting that she was of a smoother, gentler type.
"Meg of the Hills, have all come home,
From mountain climb and forest roam,
From river mist and ocean foam,
From moon-rise white and sun-set red,
From elk-stag lair and bison bed,
From panther ambush still and dread,