which he lay, and he could observe, through his half-closed
eyelids, that its green slope was gemmed with beautiful flowers, and
gilded with patches of sunlight that struggled through the branches
overhead.

Young Marston's first impression was that he must be dreaming, and that
he had got into one of the fairytale regions about which he had so often
read to his mother. A shadow seemed to pass over his eyes as he thought
this, and, looking up, he beheld the rugged face of Bounce gazing at him
with an expression of considerable interest and anxiety.

"I say, Bounce, this is jolly!"

"Is it?" replied the hunter with a "humph!"

"If ye try to lift yer head, I guess you'll change yer opinion."

Marston did try to raise his head, and did change his opinion. His neck
felt as if it were a complication of iron hinges, which had become
exceedingly rusty, and stood much in need of oil.

"Oh dear!" groaned Marston, letting his head fall back on the saddle
from which he had raised it.

"Ah, I thought so!" remarked Bounce.

"And is that all the sympathy you have got to give me, you old savage?"
said the youth testily.

"By no means," replied the other, patting his head; "here's a drop o'
water as'll do ye good, lad, and after you've drunk it, I'll rub ye
down."

"Thank'ee for the water," said Marston with a deep sigh, as he lay back,
after drinking with difficulty; "as to the rubbin' down, I'll ask for
that when I want it. But tell me, Bounce, what has happened to me?--oh!
I remember now--the buffalo cow and that famous gallop. Ha! ha! ha!--
ho--o!"

Marston's laugh terminated in an abrupt groan as the rusty hinges again
clamoured for oil.

"You'll have to keep quiet, boy, for a few hours, and take a sleep if
you can. I'll roast a bit o' meat and rub ye down with fat after you've
eat as much of it as ye can. There's nothing like beef for a sick man's
inside, an' fat for his outside--that's the feelosophy o' the whole
matter. You've a'most bin bu'sted wi' that there fall; but you'll be
alright to-morrow. An' you've killed yer buffalo, lad, so yer mother
'll get the hump after all. Only keep yer mind easy, an' I guess human
nature 'll do the rest."

Having delivered himself of these sentiments in a quietly oracular
manner, Bounce again patted March on the head, as if he had been a large
baby or a favourite dog, and, rising up, proceeded to kindle a small
fire, and to light his pipe.

Bounce smoked a tomahaw