He was glad of it, very; but when he raised it in the direction of that bear the sight seemed to dance in all directions, and he could not get a good aim, short as was the distance. Sile had the "buck ague." Even old hunters sometimes find their nerves playing tricks on them. It would not do to miss a shot then and there, and Sile lowered his rifle. "I'll try a rest and see about this thing. I must hit that bear in the head the first time, sure." He stepped behind a tree and put his rifle through the crotch of a projecting branch. That tree had no shake in it; and the barrel grew steady. "He is getting up on his hind-feet again. Now for him." The bear poised himself, with uplifted head, and, just as he lifted his paw for another scratch at the fish, Sile pulled the trigger. The range was very short, the rest was a good one, the sight was quick but careful, and the bit of lead went straight to its intended place under the ear of that black bear. He would need no more fish from that time forth, and he pitched heavily forward upon the ground. "Wait a moment, Sile! Never run in on a b'ar till yer sure of him. Reckon he's dead, though. Stand where you are, my boy!" "Why, father! Yellow Pine! You here? I never expected to see you." "Well, my son," said the judge, "we thought we'd come over and see what luck you were having. Where's Two Arrows?" "We watched ye jest a moment," said Pine. "Allers take sight from a rest if you can get one. You did that thing fine. There's the making of a prime good shot in ye." "I shook all over at first," said Sile, walking a little nearer the bear. "Buck ager. I've had it. He won't come to. If he does it's no matter, now we've got here. I'll come back after breakfast with a hoss and fetch him in. Where's the redskin?" Sile rapidly explained the cause of his delay in getting back to camp; but what he did not know or explain was the fact that the Nez Perces had had no idea that their drove of lost ponies had wandered into that valley. "Glad they've got 'em," said Yellow Pine. "Every hoof of ourn'll be safer from this time on, treaty or no treaty, good Indians or bad." "Would they really steal from us, after all?" asked Sile, soberly. "Steal hosses? Well, now, that isn't jest the way it looks to them. They're brought up to it. All hoss-flesh is fair game to a plains redskin. The more they have of their own, the easier it is to get 'em to keep their hands off from them that you have and to make believe good. These 'ere Nez Perces ain't a bad lot. Hope we won't run afoul of any that's worse than they are, and more of 'em." Sile was proud of his fish, and tenfold prouder of his bear, but the proudest person in the mining-camp that morning was Na-tee-kah. Her wonderful brother had earned some more glory. The next proudest being was probably Ha-ha-pah-no, and she asked, several times in succession, of both herself and Na-tee-kah, and without any satisfactory answer,