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 while turning had drawn his bow. Whang-thud! The arrow sank almost out of sight in the bear's ribs, forward where the heart should be.

"Hooray!" cheered the shouting men.

The blow had knocked the bear down. He went sliding, in a struggling heap. Now he roared indeed, and twisting his head bit at the arrow. Up he rose, sighted Peter, and on he came. Peter lost a moccasin, his foot slipped. He stood his ground, held his breath, and took very careful, cool aim—bending his bow till it quivered in his grasp. A moment more, and the bear would rear, to strike him—and he loosed the taut string. The arrow struck the bear right in the nape of the burly neck; his head was low, bear fashion, and Peter had taken the chance. Down sprawled the bear, as if smitten by lightning, for the arrow point had cut his spine. He shivered, and was still. The four feathered ends jutted from his hide. He was a dead bear.

"Glory be!" panted Sergeant Pat, arriving. "An' ye did it all by yourself! But, sure, I thought I see ye 'aten up entoirely."

"Huh!" grunted Little Raven, second Mandan chief, prodding the lax, furry carcass with his spear. "Heap boy. Make big hunter."

All together they dragged the bear, at the end of Pat's belt, to the barge. Peter, of course, said nothing. But when Captain Clark clapped him roundly on the shoulder, and Captain Lewis said, "Well done, Peter,"