nd of the rock. Bruce
still held the knife in his hand and there was an odd expression in his
face--a look that put troubled furrows between his eyes as he stood for a
moment without speaking.

"I never see anything like that before," he said, slowly slipping his knife
in its sheath. "It's a she-bear, an' she had cubs--pretty young cubs, too,
from the looks o' her.'

"She was after a whistler, and undermined the rock," added Langdon.
"Crushed to death, eh, Bruce?"

Bruce nodded.

"I never see anything like it before," he repeated. "I've wondered why they
didn't get killed by diggin' under the rocks--but I never see it. Wonder
where the cubs are? Poor little devils!"

He was on his knees examining the dead mother's teats.

"She didn't have more'n two--mebby one," he said, rising. "About three
months old."

"And they'll starve?"

"If there was only one he probably will. The little cuss had so much milk
he didn't have to forage for himself. Cubs is a good deal like babies--you
can wean 'em early or you can ha'f grow 'em on pap. An' this is what comes
of runnin' off an' leavin' your babies alone," moralized Bruce. "If you
ever git married, Jimmy, don't you let yo'r wife do it. Sometimes th'
babies burn up or break their necks!"

Again he turned along the crest of the slope, his eyes once more searching
the valley, and Langdon followed a step behind him, wondering what had
become of the cub.

And Muskwa, still slumbering on the rock-ledge with Thor, was dreaming of
the mother who lay crushed under the rock on the slope, and as he dreamed
he whimpered softly.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The ledge where Thor and Muskwa lay caught the first gleams of the morning
sun, and as the sun rose higher the ledge grew warmer and warmer, and Thor,
when he awoke, merely stretched himself and made no effort to rise. After
his wounds and the _sapoos oowin_ and the feast in the valley he was
feeling tremendously fine and comfortable, and he was in no very great
haste to leave this golden pool of sunlight. For a long time he looked
steadily and curiously at Muskwa. In the chill of the night the little cub
had snuggled up close between the warmth of Thor's huge forearms, and still
lay there, whimpering in his babyish way as he dreamed.

After a time Thor did something that he had never been guilty of before--he
sniffed gently at the soft little ball between his paws, and just once his
big flat red tongue touched the cub's face; and