competitors at the target, but, to do him justice, did
not boast of that; neither did he make any reference to the fact that
Ian had twice missed the target, though he did not spare the bad
shooting of some of the other youths; this, no doubt, because he and Ian
had been fast friends for many years. Jealousy--at least on the part of
Ian--now seemed about to interfere with the old friendship. Moreover,
Lambert had brought to Mrs Ravenshaw a gift of a collar made of the
claws of a grizzly bear, shot by himself in the Rocky Mountains. Elsie
admired the collar with genuine interest, and said she would give
anything to possess one like it. Cora, with the coquettishness of
sixteen, said, with a laugh and a blush, that she would not accept such
a ridiculous thing if it were offered to her. Ian Macdonald groaned in
spirit, for, with his incapacity to shoot, he knew that Elsie's wish
could never be gratified by _him_.

Seeing that Lambert was bent on keeping Elsie as much as possible to
himself, Ian devoted himself to Cora, but Cora was cross. Feeling it
up-hill work, he soon rose to say good-bye, and left Willow Creek before
the others.

"Don't look so crestfallen, man," said old Mr Ravenshaw heartily, as he
shook hands; "it's nobler work to teach the young idea how to shoot than
to be able to hit a bull's-eye."

"True, but he who cannot hit a bull's-eye," returned Ian, with a smile,
"can scarcely be expected to touch a maiden's--I mean a grizzly's
heart."

A shout of laughter from Lambert greeted him as he left the house. His
way home lay over the frozen bed of the river. Victor accompanied him
part of the way.

"That was a strange slip for an unromantic fellow like you to make about
a maiden's heart, Ian," said Victor, looking up at the rugged
countenance of his friend.

"`Unromantic,' eh? Well, I suppose I am."

"Of course you are," said Victor, with the overweening assurance of
youth. "Come, let's sit down here for a few minutes and discuss the
point."

He sat down on a snowdrift; Ian kicked off his snowshoes and leaned
against the bank.

"You're the most grave, sensible, good-natured, matter-of-fact,
unsentimental, unselfish fellow I ever met with," resumed Victor. "If
you were a romantic goose I wouldn't like you half as much as I do."

"Men are sometimes romantic without being geese," returned Ian; "but I
have not time to discuss that point just now. Tell me, for I am anxious
about it, have you