“You comin’ to all right?” asked Dan. “You fainted, an’ I were sousin’ you t’ bring you to. I’m thinkin’ I better souse you this un. ’T will do no harm.” “Oh, Dan----” But Paul’s protest came too late, and he received the contents of the hat full in his face. “There,” said Dan with satisfaction, “I’m thinkin’ that’ll be enough, an’ bring you to, all right. How you feelin’?” “All right now.” His voice was stronger, but still weak. “That thing ’most killed me, didn’t it?” “You’re a long way from dyin’ yet, but you were havin’ a rare fine fight with th’ varmint, an’ when you kills un you faints. Feelin’ stronger? I’m thinkin’ a bit more water’ll be helpin’ you, now.” “No! No, Dan!” plead Paul, trying to rise, but still too weak. “Don’t throw any more water on me. I’m soaked and freezing with it now.” “Well, maybe you’re havin’ enough,” said Dan, uncertainly. “Dad says th’ best thing t’ bring a feller around when he gets done up is plenty o’ water.” “What kind of an animal was that? When it came leaping at me I thought my time had come.” “’Twere a lynx, an’ a wonderful big un, too, an’ nice an’ fat. He’ll make fine eatin’. How’d he come t’ fight? I never heard o’ one fightin’ before. They always runs.” “Why, I shot him, and thought I’d killed him, and when I came over without the rifle he jumped on me.” Dan examined the bloody carcass of the great lynx lying by Paul’s side. “There’s where your bullet comes,” said he, pointing at a furrow along the top of the head. “’T were breakin’ th’ skin an’ stunnin’ he. He just comes to, like you’re doin’ now, when you gets over, an’ bein’ sort o’ cornered he jumps on you. That’s th’ way of all beasts. Anything’ll turn on a feller when ’tis cornered.” “I thought I was a goner, and I don’t understand how I ever killed it. Do I seem to be hurt much? I feel sore all over.” “Not so bad. Scratched a bit, but ’t ain’t no account. You sticks your knife in his heart. Feelin’ like gettin’ up now?” “I’ll try.” With Dan’s assistance Paul rose to his feet, but he felt very weak, and uncertain on his legs. “I never can walk back to the boat, Dan.” “We’ll not be goin’ back t’ th’ boat this evenin’. There, keep a good holt of me, an’ we’ll cross th’ creek an’ put a fire on. You’re shiverin’ with th’ cold.” Dan piloted the tottering Paul to a comfortable place beside the embers of Paul’s former fire, relighted the fire and presently had a cheerful blaze. Then he broke some spruce boughs for a couch, and when Paul said he was quite comfortable and feeling “bully good again, except for the sore spots,” Dan spread out before him a porcupine, a big Arctic hare and five more ptarmigans. “That’s what I were gettin’ on th’ hunt,” he announced proudly. “Now what you thinkin’ o’ un?” “Dan, that’s just fine. Why, we can live like kings now. I suppose that’s a porcupine, isn’t it? And of course it’s good to eat--everything seems to be good to eat in this country.”