uous figure. But he knew it, nevertheless, by the two red eyes
blinking in doubt and dismay. It was a black bear, doubtless the same
one they had already disturbed.

Here he was, like Henry himself, within the Shawnee ring, but, unlike
him, not there of his own free will. The shots and the war whoops had
terrified him to the utmost, and they had always driven him back toward
the center of the circle. Henry, moved by a spirit that was as much
friendliness as sport, uttered a low woof. The bear paused, raised his
head a little higher, and inhaled the wind. At any other time he would
have fled in dismay from the human odor, but he was a harried and
frightened black bear and that woof was the first friendly sound he had
heard in a day. So he remained where he was, his figure crouched, his
red eyes quivering with curiosity. Henry smiled to himself. His feeling
for the animal was one of pure friendship, allied with sympathy. He knew
that if the bear tried to plunge through the Indian ring in his panic
they would certainly kill him. Moreover, they would cook him and eat him
the next day. The Indians liked fat young bear better than venison.

It was a whimsical impulse of his generous nature to try to save the
bear, and he edged around until the puzzled animal was between him and
the mouth of the cave. The bear once started to run to the west, but a
rifle shot fired suddenly in that segment of the circle stopped him. He
remained again undecided, his tongue lolling out and his red eyes full
of dismay. Henry crept slowly toward him, uttering the low woof, woof,
several times, and bruin, disturbed in his mind and unable to judge
between friends and enemies, edged away as slowly, until his back was
almost at the mouth of the hollow. Then, with all the possibilities
against such a combination of chances, it occurred nevertheless. A
louder woof than usual from him was followed almost instantly by a
Shawnee rifle shot, and the frightened bear, giving back, almost fell
into the crevice. Then whirling, and seeing a refuge before him, he
darted inside.

Henry, retreating into the dense bushes, flattened himself in the grass,
and laughed once more. He had laughed many times that night, but now his
mirth had a fresh savor. The bear and not the Indians had become the new
occupant of their old home, and, despite the fact that it had been so
recently a human habitation, he felt quite sure the animal, owing to his
terror and the confusion of