Muskwa was following, but losing ground. Langdon waved his
hand.
"Good-bye!" he called through the lump in his throat. "Good-bye!"
Half an hour later he looked down from the top of the slope through his
glasses. He saw Muskwa, a black dot. The cub had stopped, and was waiting
confidently for him to return.
And trying to laugh again, but failing dismally, Langdon rode over the
divide and out of Muskwa's life.
CHAPTER TWENTY
For a good half-mile Muskwa followed over the trail of Langdon. He ran at
first; then he walked; finally he stopped entirely and sat down like a dog,
facing the distant slope. Had Langdon been afoot he would not have halted
until he was tired. But the cub had not liked his pannier prison. He
had been tremendously jostled and bounced about, and twice the horse
that carried him had shaken himself, and those shakings had been like
earthquakes to Muskwa. He knew that the cage as well as Langdon was ahead
of him. He sat for a time and whimpered wistfully, but he went no farther.
He was sure that the friend he had grown to love would return after a
little. He always came back. He had never failed him. So he began to hunt
about for a spring beauty or a dog-tooth violet, and for some time he was
careful not to stray very far away from where the outfit had passed.
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