build a fire, an' have a feed," said Jackson. "Baldy an' me's needing it most as much as you. Here's an extra pair o' snow-shoes we brought along, case of an accident. We're not more'n two hours from the settlement now."
Snug beside the deeply trenched fire, with bread and bacon between his ribs and a tin of scalding tea in his hand, McLaggan unfolded his adventures.
"So now, you see," he concluded, "I'm a bear by adoption and grace. Do you wonder I've got a soft spot in my heart for the old girl?"
"I guess," said Baldy Davis, chewing thoughtfully on his pipe-stem, "ye'd better not say anything at all about it, not to nobody, Mac. There's all kind of folks in at the settlement; an' like as not there'd be some skunk stinkin' mean enough to come right out here after that bear's pelt."
"Baldy's right," grunted Jackson.
McLaggan meditated, scowling darkly. Then he got up, took a snow-shoe, and carefully shovelled back the snow into the hole till there was no sign to distinguish it.
"That's a damn good notion of yours, Baldy," said he. "Mum's the word, till the snow's off. If I got wind of any blasted sinner messing round after that there bear, before she's out an' around and able to take care of herself, I'd break his neck for him, that I would."
