enry uttered a howl, released his hold on Hippy Wingate and rolled over
on his back, feet in the air, where he lay whining and plainly begging
for mercy like a child that was being punished.

Hippy had quickly rolled out of the way and jumped up, his face bloody,
and his clothes showing rents where Henry's claws had raked them. Hippy
ran to Hindenburg whom he found whimpering and licking his wounds.

"You poor fish! Why did you do it?" rebuked Lieutenant Wingate.

"Git up!" commanded Joe Shafto, poking Henry in the ribs with her stick.
"Come with me and behave yerself, or I'll wallop ye till ye won't be
able to smell venison for a year of Sundays." The guide fastened on one
of Henry's ears and started for the trail, Henry ambling along meekly at
her side. "Lieutenant, keep that pup away from my Henry," ordered Joe.

"Joe, keep that bear away from my pup," retorted Hippy, carrying
Hindenburg in his arms and gently depositing him in the saddle bag.

"Oh, Hippy, what happened to you?" cried Emma.

"I've been communing with nature," he answered briefly.

"Darlin', let me wipe the blood from your face," crooned Nora. "Did the
naughty bear scratch oo bootiful face?"

The Overlanders shouted and Hippy, very red of face, sprang into his
saddle with such a jolt that Ginger gave him a lively minute of bucking
in which poor Hindenburg got a shaking up that made him whimper.

The forest woman with her mules had already started and was now some
distance in the lead, with her pet bear shuffling along at the edge of
the road abreast of the leading mule.

"Ye git nothin' to eat to-day, Henry. I didn't bring ye up to brawl and
to fit with yaller dogs, ye lazy lout," scolded Joe.

When the party halted for its noon rest and luncheon, Henry sat morosely
at one side of their camping place, now and then licking his chops,
while Hindenburg, performing the same service for his wounds, occupied a
position on the opposite side of the camp. Neither animal appeared to be
aware of the other's existence.

"Behold the forest," said Tom Gray later in the afternoon, halting his
pony on a rise of ground, and encompassing a wide range of country with
a sweep of his arm.

It was an undulating sea of deep green, almost as limitless as the sky
itself, that the Overland Riders gazed upon.

"Them's the Big North Woods," Joe informed them. "We take a log trail
just beyond here, and to-night we'll be in the 'Pineys.'"

"And to-morrow I shall be