CHAPTER FOURTEEN

In his hiding-place Muskwa heard the last sounds of the battle on the ledge.  The crevice was a V-shaped crack in the rock, and he had wedged himself as far back in this as he could.  He saw Thor pass the opening of his refuge after he had killed the fourth dog; he heard the click, click, click of his claws as he retreated up the trail; and at last he knew that the grizzly was gone, and that the enemy had followed him.

Still he was afraid to come out.  These strange pursuers that had come up out of the valley had filled him with a deadly terror.  Pipoonaskoos had not made him afraid.  Even the big black bear that Thor killed had not terrified him as these red-lipped, white-fanged strangers had frightened him.  So he remained in his crevice, crowded as far back as he could get, like a wad shoved in a gun-barrel.

He could still hear the tongueing of the dogs when other and nearer sounds alarmed him.  Langdon and Bruce came rushing around the bulge in the mountain wall, and at sight of the dead dogs they stopped.  Langdon cried out in horror.

He was not more than twenty feet from Muskwa.  For the first time the cub heard human voices; for the first time the sweaty odour of men filled his nostrils, and he scarcely breathed in his new fear.  Then one of the hunters stood directly in front of the crack in which he was hidden, and he saw his first man.  A moment later the men, too, were gone.

Later Muskwa heard the shots.  After that the barking of the dogs grew more and more distant until finally he could not hear them at all.  It was about three o’clock—­the siesta hour in the mountains, and it was very quiet.

For a long time Muskwa did not move.  He listened.  And he heard nothing.  Another fear was growing in him now—­the fear of losing Thor.  With every breath he drew he was hoping that Thor would return.  For an hour he remained wedged in the rock.  Then he heard a cheep, cheep, cheep, and a tiny striped rock-rabbit came out on the ledge where Muskwa could see him and began cautiously investigating one of the slain Airedales.  This gave Muskwa courage.  He pricked up his ears a bit.  He whimpered softly, as if beseeching recognition and friendship of the one tiny creature that was near him in this dreadful hour of loneliness and fear.

Inch by inch he crawled out of his hiding-place.  At last his little round, furry head was out, and he looked about him.  The trail was clear, and he advanced toward the rock-rabbit.  With a shrill chatter the striped mite darted for its own stronghold, and Muskwa was alone again.

For a few moments he stood undecided, sniffing the air that was heavy with the scent of blood, of man, and of Thor; then he turned up the mountain.

He knew Thor had gone in that direction, and if little Muskwa possessed a mind and a soul they were filled with but one desire now—­to overtake his big friend and protector.  Even fear of dogs and men, unknown quantities in his life until to-day, was now overshadowed by the fear that he had lost Thor.