CHAPTER II 
AT GORDON’S CAMP 
Wuite the men were unhitching our horses, I 
knocked on the door of a log-cabin that adjoined 
the main camp. It was opened by a kindly faced 
woman about forty years of age, bearing a little 
child in her arms. She smilingly bade me enter, 
and motioned me to a seat on a bench beside the 
stove. 
Four children, two boys and two girls, all seem- 
ingly about the same age, stood silently by while 
we talked. My first inquiry, after I had told who 
I was and explained why I had come, was to ask 
how the little bear was getting on. At my question 
one of the boys reached behind the stove and drew 
out a small shallow box, lined with deerskin. I 
now saw, curled up in its centre, almost hidden 
from sight in a nest of clean rags and bits of cloth, 
a tiny black animal. It could not be a bear! I 
looked again in great astonishment, for it seemed 
not much larger than a big gray squirrel! Now it 
moved, and began to whine and wag its head. 
Thrusting its little nose up and down, it made an 
appealing, plaintive, almost human call. 
“Bruno is hungry, mother,” said one of the 
children. 
