he ranchman.

Although the stockman did not speak any plainer, Frank knew just what
he meant.

"He thinks we must be feeling the effects of our little excitement
yesterday, Jerry, and that the soreness in our muscles will take our
ambition away for to-day," he said aside to his chum.

"Tell me about that, will you! To prove that we're tougher than Mr.
Mabie thinks, let's you and I engineer a little hunt of our own?"
proposed the other quickly.

Accordingly, they started out, going down the valley.

"The walk will do us good, anyhow," declared Frank, "even if we don't
run across any big game."

"I was asking Mr. Mabie about moose, and he said that occasionally one
is seen in this region, though generally they hang out further east.
I've always wanted to get a moose, but was never able to be up in the
woods where they are found, when the law was off. How about you, Frank?
Ever shoot at one?"

"Never had that luck, though I've seen many in the summer time, in
Maine. Somehow, it seems to go against the grain doing this hunting at
such a queer time. I guess it won't be long before they have as strict
laws up here as we have to protect such game as deer and elk."

"How about panthers and grizzlies?" asked Jerry.

"They don't want to protect those fellows. You've got a right to knock
one over, or a wolf, any time you want, if he doesn't get you first,"
laughed Frank.

An hour later they separated, Frank to look along one ridge, while Jerry
had taken a notion to see what the other might have in the shape of
game.

Frank spent quite a long time scouring the woods that covered the side
of the valley. He had not put up anything worth while, and was even
thinking about heading back to the place where he had agreed to meet his
chum, when a distressing little accident occurred.

Just as he was hurrying down a steep bank his foot caught in a vine, and
he was hurled forward with such violence that his head, coming in
contact with the hard ground, received such a blow that he was rendered
unconscious.

Frank never knew just how long he remained insensible. It might have
been only a few minutes, or perhaps half an hour slipped by while he lay
there. When he finally opened his eyes he looked up into a dusky face,
and realized that it belonged to an Indian!

CHAPTER XVII

AT THE CAMPFIRE OF THE CREES

Frank was not at all alarmed. In the first place, he had been assured by
Mr. Mabie that these Crees were not i