WHEN TOM got up the next morning he found breakfast ready.

It was nearly eight o’clock.

“You must think me lazy,” he said.

“Oh, no; you were fatigued by your journey. Besides, we don’t go to work very early.”

After breakfast Tom wandered out and surveyed the gulch with sad interest.

“This is the place,” he said, “where my father was robbed and perhaps murdered. I wish I could solve the mystery of his fate.”

“Don’t let it affect your spirits too much, my young friend,” said Dr. Spooner. “Your father may have died before his time, but he is in the hands of his Creator. We must submit to the inevitable, trusting and believing that in the end all will turn out for the best.”

“You are right,” said Tom, “but here where my poor father disappeared, I can’t help recalling him to mind.”

“And very natural it is, too.”

After a walk, Tom joined his friends in their labors.214 The claim was not exhausted, and they decided to remain at Rocky Gulch as long as it was worth working.

Tom did not work all day. He devoted a part of every afternoon to exploring the gulch, with the view of finding the bag of gold dust, which Mr. Darke had concealed, and then been unable to find. In more than one place he dug down, only to be disappointed. It was provoking to think that somewhere, perhaps where he had himself walked, there was hidden beneath the surface a sum of money belonging to him and his mother by right of inheritance, which would have made the family rich.

But Tom did not employ all his leisure time in this way. Sometimes he took his gun, for he had bought one since he came to Rocky Gulch, and wandered for miles over the hills, or through the valleys, shooting a bird or a squirrel, according to the opportunities he had.

One day he took for an entire holiday; he was alone, Mr. Brush being rather indisposed, and the doctor being in attendance upon him.

Having so much time at command, he wandered further than ever before. He had not had much sport. In fact his thoughts were upon his home, and he walked on without much thought of the scene about him, when there came to his ears, borne by the wind, a shout, which sounded very much like “Help! help!”

This roused Tom instantly, and brought back his thoughts to the present.

Whence came the voice?

He could not immediately determine. He looked215 about him, but could see no person. But he saw something else which sufficiently startled him.

Squatting beneath a large tree was a huge bear, which, from his appearance, Tom instantly recognized as a grizzly. He knew, though he had never seen one before, that the grizzly bear of California is stronger and more formidable even than the lion, being just the sort of stranger which a prudent man would be most anxious to avoid.

Tom started back in alarm, but the bear had not yet seen him. In fact, the attention of the huge animal seemed otherwise directed. He was looking up into the tree.

Following his gaze, Tom solved the mystery of the voice. Crouching among the branches was a well-dressed man, who looked exceedingly uncomfortable.

The bear below was “holding the fort,” and as long as he remained there the man did not dare to come down.

“But why didn’t the bear climb the tree?” some of my readers may be tempted to ask.

For the reason that the grizzly bear, at any rate, when fully grown, seldom or never climbs. He leaves that to the more common species.

As long, therefore, as the besieged party remained in the tree, he was safe. But it was hardly a position in which he could feel comfortable in his mind. Peering anxiously around, he at length espied our hero, whom he had not before seen, and called out:

“Boy, have you got a gun with you?”

216 “Yes, sir.&............