“Bear dead, eh?” Sconda queried.

“Yes, dead, and lying in the ravine, half covered with earth and rocks.  Go down Crooked Trail to the bottom, then up the gulch, and you will find it.”

“Who shoot grizzly?” the Indian asked.

“A white man.  And, oh, Sconda, you should have seen what a shot he made!  It was wonderful!  I am sure you never did anything like it.”

“Greater than Sconda made at Saku, when he shot grizzly, and saved Injun, eh?”

“Greater?  Listen, Sconda.  That white man shot the grizzly from the other side of Deep Gulch.  He was way up on the hill, and he hit the bear in the heart.”

The Indian’s eyes showed his astonishment as he studied the girl’s face as if to make sure that she was telling the truth.

“It is true, Sconda.  I was there and saw him do it.”

“What was bear doing?”

“Coming at me for all it was worth, and Midnight was almost frantic with fright.  If it hadn’t been for that white man we would be down there now where that grizzly is lying.”

“And you want Sconda to fetch bear to camp, eh?”

“I do.  Take as many men as you need and go in the morning.  Tell the women to be ready to prepare the meat.  And, Sconda, I want you to look after the dressing of the skin.  Get Klota to do it.  Tell her it is for me, and she will understand.  That is all, I guess.”

Glen dismounted, and handed the reins to the Indian.

“Midnight is hungry, Sconda.  Look after him yourself, and see that he gets a good bite of grass.  And, Sconda,” she added, as if an afterthought, “you will be sure to go with the men in the morning?”

“Ah, ah, Sconda will go.”

“That’s good.  And I want you to do something for me.  Keep a sharp watch to see if that white man comes again to Deep Gulch.  You will, won’t you?”

“Sconda will watch.”

“But don’t let him think you are watching, remember.  You stay behind when the others have brought the bear home.  But don’t let the white man see you.”

Into Sconda’s eyes flashed an expression of understanding.  He knew now what the girl meant.  What would he not do for her? the white girl he had known since she was but a child, and whose word to him was law, not of force but of affection.

“Now, don’t forget, Sconda,” Glen warned.  “Stay there, if necessary, until night, and watch him carefully from the top of Crooked Trail.  And don’t tell anybody, not even Klota.  Her eyes and ears are sharp, and she might suspect something.  This is the greatest secret I have ever had.  You have never failed me yet, Sconda, and I know that I can trust you now.”

CHAPTER XIII

WHEN THE STORM BURST