Bisbee daily review., 1913-12-28

and makes even kids act respon- sible. Go easy. and there's famine. ireoz.ng. blaokleg. all sorts of req. sons against laziness. lt sort Of edu. cates.
 Mother was worse than silent There was something about her that scared me more than anything outdoors. IB the morning her eye kep' following me as If 10 say. "Go find your father" Surely it was up 10 me, and fl | wasn't big enough to drive the huskies or pack fathers gun. thought 1 could manage afoot to tote his four-pound ax. She beckoned nee to her and kissed me-just once in ten years. and 1 was quick through the door, out of reach. lest she should see rue mighty near cryin'.
 It wss all very well showing of brave before mother, but when got outside, any excuse would have been enough for going back ] wished I'd left the matches behind, but l hadn't l wished the snow would be too soft, but it was hard as sand. I wished wasn't a coward, and the bush didn't look so wolfy, and what If I met up with the Eskimo devili Oh. ! was surely the scaredest Iii' boy, and dead certain I'd get lost. Then I went on because I was going, and there was fa- ther's trail blazed OF past Bake-appls Marsh. The way was as plain as streets, and the sun shining warm as he looked over into the valley.
 Then I saw a mans mitt, an old buchskiu mitt sticking up out of the snow. Father had dropped his mitt, and without that his hand would be froze. When I found him, how glad he'd be to get 1t!
 But when l tried to pick it up. 1t was heavy. Then t came away. and there was fathers hand sticking up. It was dead.
 Of course l know I'd ought to have dug down through tho snow, but l didn't I ran for all l was worth. Then I got out of breath and come back shamed.
 It wasn't for love of father. No. hated to touch that hand, and when did l was sick. Still that was better than being scared to touch. It's not so bad when you dare.
 I dug, with a snow-shoe for a shovel There was the buckskin shirt smelling good, and the long fringes I'd used to tickle his nose with-then I found his face. I just couldn't bear that, but turned ny back and dug until I came 70 the great, big, number'four trap he used for wolf and beaver. He must have stepped without seeing. it under the snow, and it broke his leg. Then he'd tried to drag himself back home
 It was when ! stood up to get breath and cool off that l first seen the wolf, setting peaceful, waggin' his tail First I thought he was one of our own huskies, but when he didn't know his name I saw for sure he must be the wolf who lived up Two Mile Crick He'd got poor inspecting fathers busi. ness instead Of miuding his own That's why he gas called the mspec tor. It was March, too, the moon of famine. Of course I threw my aE and missed. His hungry smiles still thar behind a bush, and me wonder. ing whether his business is with me or father. That's why l stepped on the sn0w-shoes, and went right past where he was, not daring to get my aN. Yes, it was me he wanted to see first, but Of course I wasn't going to encourage any animal into thinking he'd scared a man. Why. he'd scarce have let father even see his tracks for fear they'd be trapped CT shot So ] walked slow and proud leadin' him or from father-at least I played that wishing all the time that mothers liP boz was to home. After a while grabbed down a Topped stick where Iather'd blazed, not as fierce as an ax, but enough to make me more or less respected.
 The Inspector was bigger than me stronger n any man, swiftsr n any horse. I tell yer the .naued white wolf is wiser'n most people, and but for eating his cubs. he's natures gentle man.
 The trouble was not him hunting but me scared. Why, if he'd wanted 'iiss DLAo 44asAs DEE LlLss ana ID BIEnA- fas-- It was just curiosity made him so close behind like a stealthy ghost. When I'd turn to show fight. he'd seem to apologize, and then I'd go on whis- tling Q hymn.
 Thar he was cached right ahead in the deadfall, for a front view. if I'd known. But I thrashed with my stick in a panic, hitting his snout, 30 he yelped. Then he lost his temper. He'd a sorry, but-business-is-business ex pression on him. I ran at him, tripped on stump, let out a yell, and he Iep straight at my throat.
 And in the middle of that came a gunshot, a bullet grazed my arm, and went on whining. Another shot. and the Inspector ran. Then i was rrb- ping whar the bullet hurt, sort of suiky, too, with grievance. when I was suddenly grabbed and nigh smoth. cred in mothers arms. She'd come with the team Of huskies 6oIowin' me: she'd been gunning. too. and sure had a mighty close call.
 She'd no tears left for father, SC when l got through soobin' we went