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"Well, sir, but perhaps I can do without the skin. I'll try and make use of a piece of canvas. I'll render it air-tight with grease or wax, or something of that sort. I don't promise to succeed, but I'll try my best." "That's all we can expect of you," said Mudge. Tillard's proposal somewhat raised our hopes.
As I sat in the stern-sheets, I watched Tillard's countenance. He seemed at length to have fallen into a quiet sleep, and I trusted that when he awoke he would feel himself much better. I bored a hole in the end of a cocoa-nut, and also got some fish ready, that I might give him some food as soon as he awoke.
Reckon thet scart the others leas'wise no b'ars showed up fer a long while after." Out on Tillard's Pond a stiff breeze was blowing, and consequently their progress was not as rapid as it had been, nor were any of them as warm as formerly. "We're going to have a cold first night, I can tell you that," said Dick, and his prediction proved true.
Then I'm sure they'd appreciate what they got." The midday meal finished, they lost no time in repacking the sled load and starting up the river once more. The stream was now wider than before, and presently spread out into a small lake. "This is known as Tillard's Pond," said John Barrow. "Feller named Gus Tillard built his cabin over yonder, about ten years ago.
He went out bar-huntin' one day, and Mr. Bar came along and chewed him up." "Gracious! Then there must be pretty ugly customers in this vicinity," exclaimed Sam, with a shiver. "Not so many as there used to be. After Tillard's death the boys over to the Run organized a b'ar hunt, and we brought in six o' the critters.
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