The party slept just under the bluff, protected by it and lulled to sleep by the gently rippling waters of the forest stream.

Early on the following morning they were aroused by an uproar in the camp.

Out of the uproar came the shrill voice of their guide.
"Get out of here, ye lazy good-for-nothin'.

Think this 'ere is a lumberjack hotel?
Sick 'im, Henry! Sick 'im!" raged Joe Shafto.
Grace, hearing the bear growl, sprang up and ran out.

Her companions were not far behind her.
Sitting crouched over the campfire, which he had built, calmly cooking his breakfast, was the Indian, Willy Horse, wholly undisturbed by the uproar that his presence had created.
"Call off the bear!" commanded Grace sharply.