IX: The Bear Skin is Stolen
WHEN HANNAH AND I RETURNED to the cabin that evening, we found everything as we had left it, and thought that the deserter had made up his mind to make no more raids upon our little stock of provisions. After I had started a fire in the stove, we went out and admired our great bear skin, now almost dry — so thoroughly had it been fleshed and stretched. I struck it with my hand and it boomed like a drum.
“Sister, our friend can’t be right: it isn’t possible that any one will pay four hundred dollars for that hide, big though it is!” I exclaimed.
“I guess that we have very little idea of what rich people are willing to give for things that they want. It seems to me that people who think nothing of paying a hotel twenty-five dollars a day for meals and a place t
