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Updated: June 18, 2025
Luckily Muskwa got him once by the nose, and bit deep, and if there was any sand at all in Willie Pipoonaskoos this took it out of him, and while Muskwa held on for dear life he let out a steady stream of yelps, informing his mother that he was being murdered. To these cries Iskwao paid no attention at all, but continued to smell noses with Thor.
Exciting times followed for the two cubs. All that night Thor and Iskwao kept by themselves in the buffalo willow thickets and the balsams of the creek-bottom. Early in the evening Pipoonaskoos sneaked up to his mother again, and Thor lifted him into the middle of the creek.
And M'sieu Jeem" she looked up at him, a triumphant glow in her eyes as she added, almost in a whisper "You will not go to Lac Bain. "A messenger?" "Yes, Ookimow Jeem a messenger. Two days ago. I sent word that I had not died, but was here waiting for him and that I would be Iskwao now, his wife. Oo-oo, he will come, Ookimow Jeem he will come fast. And you shall not kill him. Non!"
He fell farther and farther behind Iskwao, and twice lie turned, his fangs gleaming under drawn lips, and his defiance rolling back upon his enemies in low thunder. When he came up out of the coulee he was in the shadow of the peak, and Iskwao had already disappeared in her skyward scramble.
Up that ravine Iskwao was coming from a dip lower down the mountain, and she was running. The yelping of the pack was fierce and close when Thor scrambled down in time to meet her as she rushed upward. Iskwao paused for a single moment, smelled noses with Thor, and then went on, her ears laid back flat and sullen and her throat filled with growling menace. Thor followed her, and he also growled.
Not until they were another hundred yards down the slope did they stop and look back at Langdon to get further directions. From his rock Langdon was pointing to the sky-line. Thor was just going over. He paused for a moment, as Iskwao had stopped, and took one last look at man. And Langdon, as he saw the last of him, waved his hat and shouted, "Good luck to you, old man good luck!"
He was keeping to the high slopes where there were little dips and meadows, broken by patches of shale, deep coulees, and occasionally wild upheavals of rock. He was keeping the wind straight ahead so that he would not fail to catch the smell of Iskwao when he came near her, and with the baying of the dogs he caught no scent of the pursuing beasts, or of the two men who were riding behind them.
Iskwao raised her head and joined him in the tumult, both of them perfectly good-natured and quite happy during the operation. Why mating bears indulge in this blood-curdling duet is a mystery which only the bears themselves can explain.
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