ppeared in paroxysms of
delight at recognising his master, leaping up to his neck with loving
barks, and licking his face, to express his happiness and affection in
the manner customary to doggydom, almost wild with joy.

"You never told me about him?" said Mr Rawlings.

"I couldn't. The subject was too painful a one," replied the other. "I
brought him with me from England, and he never quitted my side day, or
even night, I believe, for any appreciable time, until those rascally
Crow Indians stole him from me, and made him into their favourite dog
soup, as I thought, weeks ago. Poor Wolf, old man!" he added, speaking
to the faithful creature, and patting his head, "I never thought I
should see you again."

"He's a fine crittur!" said Seth, making advances of friendship towards
Wolf, which were cordially reciprocated; "an' I wouldn't like to lose
him if I owned him, I guess. I s'pose he broke loose and follered your
trail?"

"I expect so," said Ernest Wilton; "but how he managed to track me
through all my erratic course amongst these mountains--or hills, as you
call them--puzzles me. See," he continued, "they must have tied up the
poor fellow, as well as starved him, or he would have probably found me
sooner! Here is a piece of hide rope round his neck, which he has
gnawed through in order to get free,"--holding up the tattered fragment
of the old rope, one end of which hung down to Wolf's feet, while the
other was tightly knotted about his throat, like a cravat, so as almost
to choke him.

"That must have been the case," said Mr Rawlings. "But hullo! what is
Jasper coming after us for?"

"That durned nigger," exclaimed Seth, "is allers shirking his work. I
told him he warn't to come with us this mornin', and here he is toting
arter us with some slick excuse or other. Hullo, you ugly cuss!" he
added, hailing the darkey, who was running after the party and had now
got close up, "what the dickens do yer want here?"

"Me see fine dawg, lubly dawg, Massa Seth, sailin' round de camp; and me
foller um up, Massa Seth. Um berry good dawg for huntin', sah, and me
don't want to lose him; dat's all."

"Oh," said Seth, "that's all, is it? The dorg is here, right enough,
with the gentleman theer, who's his master," pointing to Ernest Wilton
and Wolf. "And now, you lazy lubber, as you have kinder satisfied yer
mind, you can jist go back agin to that job I sot you on."

"Prey let him stop now," said Ernest, pleas