"'William turned his back as Dick raised the big gun, and made ready to shoot. Then he said something about seeing to the horses, and hurried down the trail. Mary joined Vivian in the thicket, and so did I. I couldn't help it. We turned our backs, too, and stopped our ears with our fingers. Virginia was the only one who stayed. She stood by Dick as he aimed and shot. Afterward she told me she would have felt mean to desert a hero whose spirit was just about to be taken away from him. She wanted to pay her last respects. But I know it wasn't easy, for when we all came tremblingly back a few minutes after Dick had shot, her eyes were brimful of tears. "'Then William, too, returned, leading Siwash, and together he and Dick hoisted the big bear across Siwash's saddle, binding him securely with the rope. After the horses had become satisfied that there was no occasion for alarm, William led Siwash at the head of a triumphal procession, and the rest of us followed, Vivian on William's Ginger. Down the trail we went, unconscious of scratches and aches and sunburn, now that our aim had been accomplished, and our goal realized. The awful feeling of pity which we had felt by the creek went away somewhere, and we were but victors holding a triumph. "'Virginia and I wondered as we rode along together why it is that you can feel so full of pity one moment at the thought of killing something, and yet so full of triumph the next after you've conquered and killed it. We've decided that the triumphant feeling is something bequeathed to us by the cave-men like those in _The Story of Ab_ you know--an instinct that makes you want to prove yourself master; and that the pity is a sign we're all growing better instead of worse. Don't you think that's a fairly good explanation? Of course it is needless to say that Virginia thought it out! "'Hannah's calling me to supper, and I must hurry. Mr. Hunter and the boys had just reached home from Willow Creek as we rode down the lane. I wish you could have seen Jack and Carver when they saw the bear. They were wild, and hailed us as though we were Augustus entering Rome! Best of all, Mr. Hunter says he is going to send the skin to you, Dad--it's all black and curly--for the library floor. Isn't it splendid of him? "'I simply must run and wash, and rustle a clean middy somewhere. "'Loads of love, "'PRISCILLA. "'P. S.--Mother, dear, I guess I'll have to have still another Thought Book. I never in my life had so many thoughts. They come crowding in--one on top of the other--but many of them are the kind you can't very well express. "'P. A. W. "'P. P. S.--I can shoot a bottle all to pieces at thirty yards. Don't you call that pretty good? "'P. A. W.'"