“Before we leave this part of the country forever, let me explain a mystery to you. You have, like hundreds of others, been terrified about this wonderful animal, and I myself have heard many of the marvelous stories told about him. Let me say, however, that he has never killed a man, and never can, for he has not the ability, at least, when he appears in this shape--” “What!” interrupted Black Tom; “do yer mean to say that he never chawed up nobody?” “Never,” laughed Hammond; “look here.” Stooping down, he busied himself for a few moments about the legs and body of the animal, and then uncovered him, and there stood before the astounded gaze of the trio a large Newfoundland dog, that instantly testified its vitality by attempting to leap up to Lamora, to receive her caresses. While the trappers continued gazing in silent amazement, Hammond continued: “Some years ago, when the Meagan Indians located in this section, they discovered the presence of gold about them. Knowing this was liable to be found by the hunters that were constantly going back and forth through this section, they hit upon an ingenious expedient. Kipwan, the chief, had been given a young, intelligent Newfoundland dog by a trader, and, knowing the superstitions of the hunters and Indians, he got up this animal, which was made altogether different from any thing that had ever been heard of before. Making a number of hides of buffaloes and wolves into a cloak or coat that fitted the figure of the dog, he painted the outside in this fantastic manner, and then let him run. It was a serious matter for the dog at first, as he came near smothering to death, and could hardly carry his armor around with him; but Kipwan, who is as ingenious as a Yankee, improved on the model, and finally made it as easy upon the canine as an overcoat upon an ordinary man. It was made so that he could breathe easily; but the dried, tough hide was perfectly bullet-proof, except, perhaps, in front of the eyes. It made the dog awkward and lumbering in his movements, and perfectly powerless to do harm. Encased in this shield, he could not harm a rabbit. Jerval, as he was called, seemed to know by instinct what was required of him. He roamed around the country, generally through the night, returning to Kipwan in the morning, when his overcoat was removed, and he looked like himself until nightfall again. Occasionally, when necessary, he was sent out reconnoitering through the day, but not often. It was not long before every Indian and trapper who saw and did not know him, was cracking away at him; but, as none of the bullets could penetrate his skin, Jerval paid little attention to it. When it became known that he was bullet-proof, the exaggerated stories that you have heard began, and he infused such terror that he has long played the part of protector to the Meagans, and you saw a few minutes ago what he accomplished in putting the Blackfeet to flight,