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"Isn't Ferguson with you?" asked Onthank, anxiously, for he knew that a boy of sixteen, even if armed, was no match for the king of the California sierras. "No, he's behind in the camp," shouted Tom, in reply. By this time the bear became aware that there was a second intruder within his precincts. He turned his head deliberately and surveyed our hero.
Scotland, however, fell considerably in the estimation of Mr. Onthank, when he learned that his favorite article of food was almost unknown in that distant country. "You Scotchmen don't know what is good," he said. "If you ever come to Green Mountain Mills, I'll get marm to fry a batch of nut-cakes, and you'll say they're goloptious."
Ferguson. It wouldn't be very easy to be lost here. I'll keep my eyes open, and bring Mr. Onthank back with me if I see him anywhere." Ferguson sat down, and indulged himself in reading, probably for the hundredth time, Walter Scott's Marmion, of which he had a small pocket edition; while Tom went on his way.
"Have you been fortunate so far in California, Mr. Onthank?" "Can't say I have. I guess I've wandered round too much. Been a sort of rollin' stone; and my granny used to say that a rollin' stone gathers no moss. I've got about enough money to get me to San Francisco, and I own this animal; but I haven't made a fortune yet. What luck have you two had?"
Ferguson, if it were offered you," said Tom, smiling. "I don't say that, Tom. I would risk its effect upon my health for once. But, as we haven't got it, we may as well make the best of what we have." Soon after their simple meal, which did not consume much time, Tom suggested to his companion that they set out in search of Mr. Onthank.
"We are much indebted to you, sir," said Tom, gratefully, to the Mexican. "You have saved my life." The vaquero courteously expressed his satisfaction, and, remounting his horse, resumed his journey. "I never want to see another grizzly," said Onthank. "This one is enough for me, darn his ugly pictur'!" "I quite agree with you, Mr. Onthank," said Tom.
It was with a feeling of joy, not wholly unmingled with anxiety, that he descried Tom descending a hillock not many rods away. As yet it was evident that our hero had not caught sight of the bear and his prisoner. It was very necessary to put him on his guard. "Tom!" shouted Mr. Onthank, at the top of his voice.
"Would you mind my joining your party?" asked Onthank. "It's lonesome travelin' by one's self without a soul to speak to." "We shall be glad of your company," said the Scotchman, sincerely, for, though naturally cautious, he could not suspect the new-comer of anything which would make him an undesirable companion. "Perhaps you'd like to know who I am," said the new acquaintance.
His conversation beguiled the tedium of the journey, so that all were surprised when the shadows deepened, and supper-time came. Selecting a favorable place they encamped for the night. Ebenezer Onthank was an early riser.
"Say, have you got mountains as high as them, or trees as high as that?" pointing to a gigantic redwood. "No; but size is not everything." "That's so. Vermont is a little State, but she's smart, I tell you. But you haven't told me your names yet." "I am called Donald Ferguson, Mr. Onthank. My young friend here answers to the name of Thomas Nelson." "Commonly called Tom," added our hero, smiling.
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