ief.

"It's a bear, with a white or gray marking on his face," I explained. "He
is harmless. See! He's finished looking us over and goes back into his
den."

But the effect of the shock to her nerves did not wear off for some time.
To prepare her against more glimpses of bruin I told her how the broken
nature of the country made it a favorite region for bears, and that it had
been long known along the border as a famous hunting-ground for the big
creatures.

"I feel just as if it was the guardian spirit of an evil place, that it is
spying on us and plotting to harm us," she confessed.

Whenever the trace permitted I swung aside from the river and took to the
ridges. The tops of these were covered with chestnuts and their sides with
oaks. More than once on such detours I sighted furtive furry forms
slipping away from their feast on the fallen nuts, but Patricia's gaze was
not sufficiently trained to detect them; and she wandered through the
groves without knowing we were literally surrounded by bears.

While a wild country, it was relieved by many beautiful touches. Such were
the tulip-trees, or yellow poplar. Many of them towered a hundred feet
with scarcely a limb to mar the wand-like symmetry of the six-foot boles.
Scarcely less inspiring were the cucumber-trees, or mountain magnolias,
which here reached the perfection of growth.

Scattered among these tall ones were white and yellow oaks; and they would
be considered giants if standing alone. These were the serene gods of the
forest, and they had a quieting influence on my companion. It was with
regret that I led her back along the rough shore of the river.

I shot a young bear, but Patricia displayed a foolish repugnance and would
eat none of it. Later in the day I killed a deer with such a minute charge
of powder as emphatically to establish my excellence as a marksman for
that one shot at least. We were nearly three days in making the Tug Fork
of the Sandy.

The girl bore the hardships well. The wound on her arm healed rapidly, and
whatever she actually suffered was mental rather than physical. Our kettle
proved second only to my rifle in importance, and if the fare lacked the
savor of salt our appetites made up for the deficit. When we reached the
Tug we were in the region celebrated for Colonel Andrew Lewis' "Sandy
Creek Voyage of Fifty-six," as it was styled with grim facetiousness.

It was one instance when Colonel Lewis failed of carrying out an
ent