“My child, I knew your voice.” “Well, it was only a VERY LITTLE scream--because I had tumbled.” The color was coming back rapidly to her pink cheeks. “And, then, at your scream, Tenbrook fired!--it was a wonderful shot for the distance, so everybody says--and killed the bear, though Tenbrook says it oughtn't to. I believe he wanted to capture the creature alive. They've queer notions, those hunters. And then, as you were unconscious, he brought you up here.” “WHO brought me?” “Tenbrook; he's as strong as a horse. Slung you up on his shoulders like a feather pillow.” “Oh!” “And then, as the wagon required some repairing from the brute's attack, we concluded to take it leisurely, and let you rest here for a while.” “And where is--where are THEY?” “At work on the wagon. I determined to stay with you, though you are perfectly safe here.” “I suppose I ought--to thank--this man, papa?” “Most certainly, though of course, I have already done so. But he was rather curt in reply. These half-savage men have such singular ideas. He said the beast would never have attacked you except for the honey-pot which it scented. That's absurd.” “Then it's all my fault?” “Nonsense! How could YOU know?” “And I've made all this trouble. And frightened the horses. And spoilt the wagon. And made the man run down and bring me up here when he didn't want to!” “My dear child! Don't be idiotic! Amy! Well, really!” For the idiotic one was really wiping two large tears from her lovely blue eyes. She subsided into an ominous silence, broken by a single sniffle. “Try to go to sleep, dear; you've had quite a shock to your nerves, added her father soothingly. She continued silent, but not sleeping. “I smell coffee.” “Yes, dear.” “You've been having coffee, papa?” “We DID have some, I think,” said the wretched man apologetically, though why he could not determine. “Before I came up? while the bear was trying to eat me?” “No, after.” “I've a horrid taste in my mouth. It's the honey. I'll never eat honey again. Never!” “Perhaps it's the whiskey.” “What?” “The whiskey. You were quite faint and chilled, you know. We gave you some.” “Out of--that--black--bottle?” “Yes.” Another silence. “I'd like some coffee. I don't think he'd begrudge me that, if he did save my life.”