THE CABIN LOOTED. 87 



Dyche. The first night on the way down some wild 

 animal frightened the donkeys so that they rushed 

 into camp for protection and kept the travellers 

 awake the balance of the night. Next day they left 

 the main trail and went off to Bear Trail Camp. 

 It seemed like getting home again to Dyche. Two 

 years had passed since the last visit, but everything 

 was just as he had left it. An old dish-rag still 

 hung on a peg in the tree, while on the pole table 

 sat the wooden bowl, carved out with so much pa- 

 tience by Brown. Cans and tin pans were hanging 

 in their accustomed places, while even the firewood 

 which had been placed in a dry nook was still there 

 ready for the fire. Sticking from the roots of the 

 tree was the neck of a bottle of syrup, now greatly 

 improved with age. The two were soon comfortable, 

 and after five days' continuous travelling on a rough 

 trail the rest was welcome. 



Dyche knew every foot of ground around the camp 

 as well as he did his father's pasture, and he started 

 out to find a deer. Mrs. Dyche had seen so many 

 bear signs that she insisted that he should not go out 

 of hearing. There were so many evidences in the 

 great holes where bears had wallowed, or where they 

 had turned over the logs and stones, or scratched 

 the trees, that she was sure she saw a bear in every 

 blackened stump on the mountain. Late in the 

 afternoon Dyche was sitting at the edge of a little 

 meadow, concealed by a bunch of willows. 



Just as the sun touched the western mountain- 

 tops a deer came to the edge of the woods about three 

 hundred yards from where Dyche was sitting. The 



