One morning, while Ian Macdonald was superintending the preparation of breakfast in some far-away part of the western wilderness, and Michel Rollin was cutting firewood, Victor Ravenshaw came rushing into camp with the eager announcement that he had seen the footprints of an enormous grizzly bear!

 

At any time such news would have stirred the blood of Ian, but at that time, when the autumn was nearly over, and hope had almost died in the breast of our scholastic backwoodsman, the news burst upon him with the thrilling force of an electric shock.

 

“Now, Ian, take your gun and go in and win,” said Victor with enthusiasm, for the youth had been infected with Rollin’s spirit of gallantry.

 

“You see,” Rollin had said to Victor during a confidential tête-à-tête, “ven a lady is in de case ye must bow de head. Ian do love your sister. Ver goot. Your sister do vish for a bar-claw collar. Ver goot. Vell, de chance turn up at last—von grizzly bar do appear. Who do shot ’im? Vy, Ian, certaintly. Mais, it is pity he am so ’bominibly bad shot!”

 

Victor, being an unselfish fellow, at once agreed to this; hence his earnest advice that Ian should take his gun and go in and win. But Ian shook his head.

 

“My dear boy,” he said, with a sigh, “it’s of no use my attempting to shoot a bear, or anything else. I don’t know what can be wrong with my vision, I can see as clear and as far as the best of you, and I’m not bad, you’ll allow, at following up a trail over hard ground; but when it comes to squinting along the barrel of a gun I’m worse than useless. It’s my belief that if I took aim at a haystack at thirty yards I’d miss it. No, Vic, I must give up the idea of shooting altogether.”

 

“What! have you forgotten the saying, ‘Faint heart never won fair lady?’” exclaimed Victor, in surprise.

 

“Nay, lad, my memory is not so short as that, neither is my heart as faint as you seem to think it. I do intend to go in and win, but I shall do it after a fashion of my own, Vic.”

 

Rollin, who came up at the moment and flung a bundle of sticks on the fire, demanded to know what “vas the vashion” referred to.

 

“That I won’t tell you at present, boys,” said Ian; “but, if you have any regard for me, you’ll make me a solemn promise not in any way to interfere with me or my plans unless you see me in actual and imminent danger of losing my life.”

分享到：