The brave fellow tried to wag his tail, but his strength was failing
fast.

"He came to me only a little while ago," sobbed Bessie. "Oh! I was so
thankful! but he came so slowly I knew he was hurt. I put out my hand
and felt him all hot and wet--I can't remember anything since then. Oh!
father, don't let poor Bouncer die--see! he is falling! Dear old
Bouncer!" and she threw herself down beside him.

The poor fellow turned his head, and tried to lick her hand; then
started up, growling with something like his old savageness, and fell
over. They tried to lift him; they called his name. Even Bessie
attempted to arouse him with a cheerful call. There was no
movement;--Bouncer was dead!

It seemed hard to leave the body of the faithful creature lying exposed
in the forest, but this was no time to bury him.

All that they could gather from Bessie's confused account of the
surprise by the Indians, and her own escape, served to make the party
feel that further effort was almost hopeless--still they would not
despair. It was decided that one of their number should take the rescued
girl back to her mother, while the rest should proceed in their search.

The fury of the storm had passed by this time, though the rain fell in
great splashing drops, and the wind muttered angrily among the trees in
answer to the distant rumbling of the thunder. Drenched to her skin, and
shivering with excitement, Bessie begged that she might go with her
father.