sassy, but not fer no king but God A'mighty. Don't pay t' git all
tore up less it's fer suthin' purty middlin' vallyble. My life
ain't wuth much, but, ye see, I hain't nuthin' else."

We rode awhile in sober thought, hearing only a sough of the wind
above and the rustling hoof-beat of our horses in the rich harvest
of the autumn woods. We were walking slowly over a stretch of bare
moss when, at a sharp turn, we came suddenly in sight of a huge
bear that sat facing us. I drew my pistol as we pulled rein,
firing quickly. The bear ran away into the brush as I fired
another shot.

"He 's hit," said D'ri, leaping off and bidding me hold the bit.
Then, with a long stride, he ran after the fleeing bear. I had
been waiting near half an hour when D'ri came back slowly, with a
downhearted look.

"'Tain' no use," said he. "Can't never git thet bear. He's got a
flesh-wound high up in his hin' quarters, an' he's travellin' fast."

He took a fresh chew of tobacco and mounted his horse.

"Terrible pity!" he exclaimed, shaking his head with some trace of
lingering sorrow. "Ray," said he, soberly, after a little silence,
"when ye see a bear lookin' your way, ef ye want 'im, alwus shute
at the end thet's _toward_ ye."

There was no better bear-hunter in the north woods than D'ri, and
to lose a bear was, for him, no light affliction.