state of fear they had been kept in for three whole days had made them
quite ill, but now the joy of Jack and Frank knew no bounds, for they
leaped on the snake and beat it as if they would go mad.

My wife said that the death of the boa took a great weight off her
mind, for she thought it would lie in wait for us near the Cave, starve
us out, and then kill us as it had done the poor ass.

We slit up the snake, and took out the flesh of the ass, which the boys
laid in a grave near Tent House. The boa's skin we hung up at the door
of the Cave, over which Ernest wrote the words, "No ass to be found
here," which we all thought to be a good joke.

One day late in the spring I went with my three sons a long way from
the Cave. My wife and Frank were left at our Half Way House, to wait
till we came back, but the dogs went with us. Our route lay far up the
course of a small stream, which had its source some miles north of the
Farm House. The ground was new to us, but we could not well lose our
way, for on the right stood a hill from which we could see the whole of
the plain.


Ernest had gone with one of the dogs to a cave that he had spied at the
foot of the hill, but we saw him turn round and run back with Turk at
his heels. As soon as he thought his voice would reach us, he cried
out, "A bear! A bear! come to my help!"

We could now see that there were two great beasts at the mouth of the
cave. At a word from us both the dogs, flew to fight the bear that
stood in front.