dragged over some limbs of a fallen fir. Luckily he had brought along enough provisions for several meals, and they proceeded to make themselves as comfortable as possible in the hollow of the cliff. They ate slowly, talking the while and each smiling warmly into the face of the other.
"It seems almost too good to be true," said Mr. Porter, not once but several times.
"And, oh, I am so thankfull" responded Dave.
Mr. Porter was so weak he needed sleep, so Dave told his parent to lie down on some of the brushwood, which he spread out as a couch next to the rocky wall.
"But what will you do, my son?" asked Mr. Porter.
"I'll remain on guard—so those bears don't get a chance to surprise us."
"But aren't you sleepy?"
"No—I'm so happy I don't think I'll be able to sleep for a week."
Mr. Porter lay down and closed his eyes, but it was a good hour before he dropped into a doze. Dave sat by the fire, where he could look at his father's face. It seemed as if he would never get done gazing at those features, so like his Uncle Dunston's.
"Found at last!" he murmured. "Found at last, and thank God for it!"
Two hours passed, and still Dave sat in the same
