There was a growl, and a black form shot out almost into his
face. Henry sprang aside, and in an instant all his powers and
faculties returned. He had stirred up a black bear, and before
the animal, frightened as much as he was enraged, could run far
the boy, careless how many Indians might hear, threw up his rifle
and fired.

His aim was good. The bear, shot through the head, fell, and was
dead. Henry, transformed, ran up to him. Bear life had been
given up to sustain man's. Here was food for many days, and he
rejoiced with a great joy. He did not now envy those warriors
back there.

The bear, although small, was very fat. Evidently he had fed
well on acorns and wild honey, and he would yield up steaks
which, to one with Henry's appetite, would be beyond compare. He
calculated that it was more than a mile to the swamp, and, after
a few preliminaries, he flung the body of the bear over his
shoulder. Through some power of the mind over the body his full
strength had returned to him miraculously, and when he reached
the stepping stones he crossed from one to another lightly and
firmly, despite the weight that he carried.

He came to the little bark hut which he now considered his own.
The night had fallen again, but some coals still glowed under the
ashes, and there was plenty of dry wood. He did everything
decently and in order. He took the pelt from the bear, carved
the body properly, and then, just as the Indians had done, he
broiled strips over the coals. He ate them one after another,
slowly, and tasting all the savor, and, intense as was the mere