"Did yo--you say you were my--my son?" he asked, in a weak, incredulous voice.
"If you are David Breslow Porter, a twin brother to Dunston Porter."
"I am."
"Then I am your son--the one who was stolen from you by the nurse, Polly Margot, and her worthless husband, Sandy."
"It is--is marvellous! I can hardly believe it!" murmured Mr. Porter.
"But it is true--and I can easily prove it, father," answered the youth, in a happy tone. He bent over and kissed his parent. "Oh, I am so glad I have found you!"
"Yes! yes! I am glad too!" Mr. Porter's eyes began to beam. "But I--I--really can't understand it yet! I--my son, my little Dave! Why, it sounds like a fairy tale! I must be dreaming." He caught Dave by the shoulder. "Is it really, really so?"
"It is, father, and I'll explain it all after awhile. But now you are hurt, and you must take it easy. Did you tumble over the cliff, or did that bear----"
"Both, Dave. How queer it sounds to call you Dave, _my_ Dave!" Mr. Porter caught the boy around the neck. "I can't believe it yet--I really can't. Where have you been all these years? And how did you learn----"
"I'll tell you afterwards, father--when we are safe. Then you fell over the cliff?"
"Yes, and while I was trying to crawl away to some spot to rest the bear got after me and scratched me in the ear. I let him have a bullet in his neck and that made him retreat. But then he came at me again, and I don't know what I should have done if it hadn't been for your arrival. The pistol is empty, as you can see."
"You heard my shot and you signaled back, didn't you?"
"Yes, I signaled back and shot at the bear at the same time. But that shot didn't hit him, although it made him keep his distance for awhile."
"I see your pistol is the same size as mine, so I'll load them both--in case the bear comes back." Dave set to work immediately and soon had the work completed. "Now you must have something to eat and to drink, and then you'll feel better."
He unslung his knapsack and brought forth his provisions, and sitting in the shelter of the cliff prepared a meal. Over some lighted brushwood he made a canteen of coffee, of which his father partook with satisfaction, and then ate a sandwich and some crackers and cheese. As he supplied his parent Dave told a good portion of his story, although he went into few details.
"It is queer that I never received any of those letters and cablegrams," said Mr. Porter. "Yet you must remember I thought your uncle was still among the South Sea Islands. He wrote to me that he was going on a trip that might last two years or more and might not be able to write to me for some time. Laura, your sister--how surprised she will be!--and myself traveled down to Rome and through Spain and then came up to Berlin. There I fell in with Hausermann and, later on, with Philip Lapham. They told me of this expedition into Norway, and got me interested financially. Your sister wanted to go to the United States, with some close friends, and I let her go and came up here. We traveled to Norway somewhat in secret, for we did not wish to let the object of our expedition become known. On that account we had some trouble with the police, who took us for political intriguers. After that we left no addresses behind us--which accounts for the non-delivery of the cablegram you sent to me from England."
"But what brought you up into this portion of Norway, father, and at this time of the year?"
"We came to locate a valuable mine, or rather a series of mines, in this section. Hausermann had some information about them, but had no money, and he came to me and then to Philip Lapham, and we 'staked' the expedition, as miners call it. We came up this winter because we heard that three other parties were coming up next spring and next summer, and we wanted to get in ahead."
"And have you done that?" asked Dave, with interest.
"Not as yet. We have found some traces of copper at one point and nickel at another, but not the rich deposits the information we possessed led us to believe could be located."
"Never mind, now we are together, perhaps you'll have better luck, father. I'll help you." Dave smiled broadly. "Tell me about yourself, and about my sister Laura, won't you?"
Both sat in front of the tiny camp-fire, Mr. Porter's bandaged head resting on Dave's shoulder, and a hand clasping that of the boy. They were supremely happy, and for the time being the world around them was forgotten. Mr. Porter told much about himself and of his travels, and Dave related how he had been raised at the poorhouse and taken care of by Caspar Potts and Oliver Wadsworth, and how he had fallen in with Billy Dill, the sailor, and gone to the South Sea Islands and found his Uncle Dunston.
"I know your sister Laura will be overjoyed to learn the news," said Mr. Porter. "She has often said how nice it would be if she had a sister or a brother. Since your mother's death we have been very lonely. Ah, if your mother could only have seen this day!" And the tears stood in Mr. Porter's eyes. Then he drew Dave to his breast, and a warm embrace by both followed.
They had completely forgotten their surroundings when a deep growl close at hand aroused them and caused the boy to leap to his feet. He gazed into the brushwood fronting the jagged rocks and the base of the cliff and uttered a cry of alarm.
"What is it, Dave?" questioned his father.
"Two bears--the one we wounded and another and bigger one."
CHAPTER XXIX
BEARS AND WOLVES
At the announcement from Dave, Mr. Porter tried to rise to his feet. He could not stand on both legs, and so had to rest against one of the rocks. From this point he, too, could see the two bears; but a moment later both animals were hidden completely by the brushwood and the snow.
"I am afraid they mean business," said Dave, anxiously.
"They are hungry and the deep snow has made it hard for them to get food," answered Mr. Porter.
"I thought bears went into winter quarters in a place like this."
"So they do sometimes, but not always. Besides, I disturbed the wounded bear when I fell over the cliff, and I presume that other beast is his mate."
"I wish I had a rifle. I could get a better shot than with this pistol."
"A good double-barreled shotgun would be a fine thing, Dave. But we'll have to use what we've got. Don't shoot until you are certain of your aim," added Mr. Porter.
A portion of his strength had come back to him, and the new alarm gave him temporary vigor. Yet he knew that to fight off two angry bears would not be easy, and he looked around for some better shelter than that which they at present possessed.
"Here is a small opening between the rocks,--let us back into it, if the bears press us too closely," said he.
He had scarcely spoken when the wounded bear advanced, followed closely by its mate. Dave waited until the foremost beast was within a dozen paces of him, then he fired. There was a growl of pain and the bear tumbled back, landing against its mate.
"Good!" cried Mr. Porter. "Look out!" he added, a second later. "The other one is coming!"
He was right. The bigger bear of the two came forward with a bound, landing almost at Dave's feet. Crack! crack! went Mr. Porter's pistol, and the huge animal was hit twice, in the breast and in the neck. The bear uttered a sound that was half growl and half yelp and then came on again. Crack! went Dave's pistol, and the bullet hit the beast directly in the teeth, knocking one of them down the animal's throat. Wounded and alarmed,