The Uninvited Guest 



" Did you get him, boys ? " he questioned, his eyes 

 as big as saucers. 



" Naw, he got away," said Joe, laconically. 



Whether or not Tug was making up his mind to come 

 back and sleep in our tent, I do not know; but suddenly 

 he was catapulted out of Jim's wickiup, with suspicious 

 alacrity. Picking himself quickly up from the ashes 

 of the camp-fire, where he had rolled, and with his mind 

 still set on the action of the past few moments, he 

 demanded to know all about it. 



Old Joe was absolutely shameless in giving the exciting 

 details of our encounter with an imaginary bear. 



Perhaps it was the hearty evening meal of moose meat 

 and other rich food, of which Tug had eaten large 

 quantities, or perhaps it was the exciting events he had 

 lately passed through, that were responsible for his 

 restless night. It may have been a combination of both. 



About three o'clock in the morning we were all dis- 

 turbed by a blood-curding yell. Tug was sitting up in his 

 blankets wild- eyed, and evidently having a nightmare. 

 " Look out !" he yelled. " He's got yer by the foot. 

 See him ? See him ?" 



After we had mauled him a bit, he came to his senses, 

 and with a long sigh of relief explained how he had 

 dreamed that he had seen a bear gnawing at one of my 

 feet, and as he had succeeded in chewing it off clear up 

 to the ankle, he (Tug) was trying to wake me to tell 

 me about it. 



The next two or three days it snowed and " blowed " 

 and rained. The tents were wet and leaked more or 

 less ; the blankets were soggy from continual contact with 

 our wet clothing. The meals were served half cold and 

 half cooked. Under these difficult conditions, it would 

 have tried the nerves of old, experienced campers to 

 keep the peace. 



