The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1912-03-04
CCcndnued.l


 CCcnt1nued.l
 'iSee, there sne said; ''it is all my girl name. Ellen" I looked at 1t. her hand in mine.
 s'Ellenr' I murmured. sTt is sig nature enough. because you are the only Ellen in the world" But she put away my hand gently and said. Wait She asked me now to get her some sort of cut branch for a crutch. say ing she was going to walk. And walk she did. though resting her foot very little on the ground. After that daily. she went farther and farther. watched me as guddled for trout in the stream. aided me as l picked berries in the thickets, helped me with the deer I brought into camp.
 "You are very good to me-" she said, ''and you hunt well. You work You are man, John Cowles. love you"
 But hearing words so sweet as these to me, still | did not tell her what secret was in my soul. Each day that other world seemed vaguer and farther away.
 Each day. too, it seemed less worth while to speak. Now could not en- dure the thought of losing her.
 One day we wandered in a dense berry thicket. out of which rose here and there chokecherry trees. and we began to gather some of these sour fruits for use in the pemmican which we planned to manufacture.
 All at once our dog began to growi and erect his hair. snifhng not at the foot scent, but looking directly into the thfcket just ahead. He began then to bark, and as he did so there rose. with a sullen sort of grunt and a champing of jaws like great hog. vast yellow gray object, whose kead topped the bushes that grew densely all about. The girl at my side uttered a cry of terror and turned to run as best she might, but she fell and lay there cow ering.
 The grizzly stood looking at me vim dictively with little eyes, its ears back its jaws working, its paws swinging loosely at its side, the claws white al the lower end. as though newly shar pened for slaughtering. I saw thel that 1t was angered by the sight of the dog and would not leave us. Each mo ment 1 expected to hear it crash through the bush in its charge. Once down in the brush. there would be small chance of delivering a fatal shot whereas now, as it swung its broad ci~ lx fo CiI Io fho sible opportunity for killing it present ed itself immediately. Without hesita- tion swung up the heavy barrel and drew the small silver bead directly on the base of the ear where the side bones of a bears head are flatter and thinner, directly alongside the brain. The vicious crack of the rifle sounded loud there in the thicket, but there came no answer in response to it save a crashing and slipping and a breaking down of the bushes as the vast carcass fell at full length. The little ball had done its work and found the brain.
 We were two savages, successful now in the chase-successful, indeed, in win ming the capital prize of all savages, for few Indians will attack the grizzly if it can be avoided. She laid her hand wonderingly upon the barrel of the rife, looking at it curiously. that it had been so deadly as to slay a crea- ture so vast as this. Then she leaned contentedly against my side, and so we sat there for a time. John Cowles," she said. you are very much a man. I am not afraid when you are with me" l put my arm about her. The world seemed wild and fair and sweet to me. Life, savage, stern, swept through all my veins. We were very busily engaged in cutting up the slaughtered grizzly, when all at once we stopped and looked at each other in silence We had heard sound To me it sounded like a rife shot We listened.
 It came again, with many others. There was a volley of several shots, sounds certain beyond any manner of question. Her eyes were large and startled. 1 caught her bloody hand in my bloody one, and for an instant I believed we both meditated flight deep CT into the wilderness.
 It may nut De any Oue we kuoWs I said- Tt may be Indians"
 ''No," said she, ''it is my father. They have found us. We must go! John"-she turned toward me and put her hands on my breast-"Johnw 1 saw terror and regret and resolve look out of her eyes, but not joy at this deliveranee. No, it was not joy that sflone in her eyes. None the less the ancient yoke of society being offered. we bowed our necks again, fools and slaves, surrendering freedom, joy, con- tent, as though that were our duty.
 Silently we made our way toward the edge of the thicket where it faced upon the open valley.
 Almost as we paused I saw coming forward the stopping figure of an h. dian trailer, half naked. belegginged. moccasined, following our fresh tracks st trot.