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All of a sudden this mammoth bear and her two cubs were heard by Wolf-hunter advancing rapidly for the cottage. The moments seemed to fly more rapidly. The instant the bear appeared in sight Wolf-hunter raised his gun.
A flash and a report, and the young bear lay dead at her feet, with three brave men coming to her assistance, but too late to be of use. The battle of the bears, so well begun with Wolf-hunter, had ended by a maiden's hand.
Their war-chief, being present, addressed his Indians in the following manner: "Your pale-faced chief, whom I shall this night adopt by the name of Wolf-hunter, must ever be revered by our tribesmen for his deeds of skill and daring. He has driven our enemies from our hunting-ground.
The Indian replied that if his daughter was pleased with Wolf-hunter's son, and he was as good a hunter as his father, he would consent. The Indians had adopted Mayall into the tribe, by the name of Wolf-hunter, which made Mayall's son equal in rank with the daughter of the Indian chief.
Esock Mayall, son of the adopted white chief, now advanced from the chief's tent, with his bride leaning on his left arm, arrayed in all the glory of Indian simplicity, followed by the Indian chief and the adopted chief, Wolf-hunter, young Mayall's father. As the young couple advanced to the centre of the ring the two chiefs closed up the space.
The hills were dim, the valleys dark, when from the nearest gloom there rolled a long-drawn cry that all men recognize instinctively melodious, yet with a tone in it that sends a shudder up the spine, though now it has lost all menace for mankind. We listened for a moment. It was the Wolf-hunter who broke silence: "That's Badlands Billy; ain't it a voice? He's out for his beef to-night."
The young bear was hastily dressed, and a part of it roasted, from which they made a sumptuous feast with corn bread. After the feast was over, the Indian chief, Esock Mayall, and his wife, remained at the cottage, whilst Wolf-hunter took a part of the roasted meat and corn bread and recrossed the stream, to feed his wife and children, and guard them from danger through the darkness of the night.
The Indian chief had slightly wounded the young bear that passed him, and, quickly loading his rifle, started to assist Wolf-hunter, where there had been the constant growling and snarling of the old she-bear after the first report of Wolf-hunter's rifle.
But all the same, I would not see you narrowed to the wolf-hunter that will never make the wolf less than the wolf! I don't know. I've always thought of you as one who would serve Wisdom and show us her beauty " "To me this is now wisdom this is now beauty. Poets may stay and make poetry, but I go after Ian Rullock!"
Some years before, in the Bingo days, I had been a wolf-hunter, but my occupations since then had been of another sort, chaining me to stool and desk.
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