But as an immediate menace to Joanne, Aldous was beginning to fear him less as the hours passed.  Joanne, and the day itself, were sufficient to disarm him of his former apprehension.  In places they could see for miles ahead and behind them.  And Joanne, each time that he looked at her, was a greater joy to him.  Constantly she was pointing out the wonders of the mountains to him and MacDonald.  Each new rise or fall in the valley held fresh and delightful surprises for her; in the craggy peaks she pointed out castlements, and towers, and battlemented strongholds of ancient princes and kings.  Her mind was a wild and beautiful riot of imagination, of wonder, and of happiness, and in spite of the grimness of the mission they were on even MacDonald found himself rejoicing in her spirit, and he laughed and talked with them as they rode into the North.

They were entering now into a hunter’s paradise.  For the first time Joanne saw white, moving dots far up on a mountain-side, which MacDonald told her were goats.  In the afternoon they saw mountain sheep feeding on a slide half a mile away, and for ten breathless minutes Joanne watched them through the telescope.  Twice caribou sped over the opens ahead of them.  But it was not until the sun was settling toward the west again that Joanne saw what she had been vainly searching the sides of the mountains to find.  MacDonald had stopped suddenly in the trail, motioning them to advance.  When they rode up to him he pointed to a green slope two hundred yards ahead.

“There’s yo’r grizzly, Joanne,” he said.

A huge, tawny beast was ambling slowly along the crest of the slope, and at sight of him Joanne gave a little cry of excitement.

“He’s hunting for gophers,” explained MacDonald.

“That’s why he don’t seem in a hurry.  He don’t see us because a b’ar’s eyes are near-sighted, but he could smell us half a mile away if the wind was right.”

He was unslinging his long rifle as he spoke.  Joanne was near enough to catch his arm.

“Don’t shoot—­please don’t shoot!” she begged.  “I’ve seen lions, and I’ve seen tigers—­and they’re treacherous and I don’t like them.  But there’s something about bears that I love, like dogs.  And the lion isn’t a king among beasts compared with him.  Please don’t shoot!”

“I ain’t a-goin’ to,” chuckled old Donald.  “I’m just getting ready to give ’im the proper sort of a handshake if he should happen to come this way, Joanne.  You know a grizzly ain’t pertic’lar afraid of anything on earth as I know of, an’ they’re worse ’n a dynamite explosion when they come head-on.  There—­he’s goin’ over the slope!”

“Got our wind,” said Aldous.

They went on, a colour in Joanne’s face like the vivid sunset.  They camped two hours before dusk, and MacDonald figured they had made better than twenty miles that day.  The same precautions were observed in guarding the camp as the night before, and the long hours of vigil were equally uneventful.  The next day added still more to Aldous’ peace of mind regarding possible attack from Quade, and on the night of this day, their fourth in the mountains, he spoke his mind to MacDonald.