He neither paused nor turned until he came to Long
Bear himself, and in front of the chief he sat down, threw up his head,
and let out the most mournful howl he knew--and he knew a great many.

"Where Two Arrows?" asked the chief, as if the dog had been human, and
he was answered first by another howl and then by an eager look and a
tug at his deer-skin leggings. Then One-eye trotted off a little
distance along the trail and looked back and barked, and the dullest man
in the world could have understood him. It all plainly meant,

"Come on. There's a fellow down this way that's in need of help. Follow
me and help him."

"Ugh!" exclaimed Long Bear, and he added the names of half a dozen of
the leading braves. "Two Arrows send dog after warrior. Come."

That was somewhat more than the truth, seeing that all the credit
belonged to One-eye, but in a minute or so the old chief was leading his
men rapidly down the pass. There was nothing whatever to be said, and
One-eye kept well ahead of them, every now and then trying to express an
idea he had that no time was to be wasted.

"Ugh!" was all the remark made by any brave when the valley came in
sight, and hardly more was remarked upon the ruins of the ancient
village, but every grunt meant a great deal.

"Not here. Dog go right on," said Long Bear. "Follow. Find Two Arrows
somewhere."

They had not far to go now before they halted as if with one accord.
From the summit of a granite bowlder, a hundred yards in advance of
them, came a shrill whoop, and there stood the object of their search,
firmly erect and seemingly unharmed.

"Boy all right," said Big Tongue. "Better come down."

"Two Arrows no fool," said Long Bear. "Go slow. Watch dog."

One-eye still trotted on, but more slowly, until he turned the corner of
the rock. He reappeared in a second, with a sharp, warning yelp,
followed by the fierce growling charge of an uncommonly large grisly
bear.

"Ugh!" said Long Bear. "Stand still. Boy been treed."

He had not been "treed," he had been bowldered, and the grisly had been
arrowed and lanced thoroughly. His angry charge had been made with his
last energies, and before he advanced half-way he reeled and fell.

There was no boy upon the rock now. Two Arrows darted down from his
perch, slipping, sliding the instant the bear followed One-eye. He had
waited up there for hour after hour, looking down at his half disabled
enemy, and he was tired of it. He had seen th