“No water and no wood,” said Mrs. Conley, looking at the bunk.
Young Dan went outside and found a small pile of wood beside the door, under a roof of snow. He carried an armful into the shack; and as he laid the sticks beside the hearth he noticed how irregularly and unskilfully the severed ends were cut. Even a sick man accustomed to the use of an axe would not have hacked the wood so clumsily. He knew it was not the work of the man in the bunk. He then took up an empty pail and enquired the whereabouts of the water-hole. Mrs. Conley told him that there was a spring just back of the shack and a path leading to it which he couldn’t miss. She was right; and in a minute he was back with the water. As he set the pail down on a bench near the door he looked at the man in the bunk, the hot spot of anger and indignation still glowing in his chest. The man’s eyes met his for a moment—but he saw more than the fellow’s eyes. He crossed the narrow floor to the bunk.
“What’s the matter with you, anyhow?” he asked.
“Matter with me, d’ye say?” returned the fellow in the blankets. “I’m sick, that’s what’s the matter. Can’t ye see?”
Young Dan stooped swiftly and drew a high-shouldered, square-faced black bottle from beneath the edge of the bunk. There was a sound of clinking glass as he brought it forth as if it were in contact with receptacles of a like nature and material. He held it aloft.
“Yes, I can see all right,” he cried. “And I guess I’ve got hold of a few doses of your medicine.”
“Well, what of it?” demanded the other, his voice at once savage and anxious.
Young Dan returned the bottle to its place; and in so doing he caught sight of some other articles of interest beneath the bunk. More bottles were there, both full and empty—but there were other things of even greater interest to the youth. He stood up, however, without word or sign of comment.
Mrs. Conley, who was busily engaged in feeding the children with condensed milk diluted with hot water, paid keen attention to Young Dan’s words and actions, but said nothing.
Young Dan moved away from the bunk and bestowed a brief but enquiring glance upon the worn bear-skin on the floor. That article had struck him as looking queer, somehow or other, when he had first set eyes on it; and now he knew it to be queer. It had grown on a big animal and had evidently been a fine pelt in its day. The big, wide head was there—not the skull, but the complete skin of head, to the tip of the nose. Yes, the head was all there—but all four paws were missing!