^i^aiCittg )i)xt^o\xt a (Bun 



1HAD gone into Wild Basin, hoping to see and 

 to trail a grizzly. It was early November and 

 the sun shone brightly on four inches of newly 

 fallen snow; trailing conditions were excellent. If 

 possible I wanted to get close to a bear and watch 

 his ways for a day or two. 



Just as I climbed above the last trees on the east- 

 em slope of the Continental Divide, I saw a grizzly 

 ambling along the other side of a narrow canon, 

 boldly outlined against the sky-line. I was so near 

 that with my field-glasses I recognized him as 

 "Old Timberline," a bear with two right front 

 toes missing. He was a silver-tip, — a nearly white 

 old bear. For three days I followed Old Timber- 

 line through his home territory and camped on 

 his trail at night. I had with me hatchet, kodak, 

 field-glasses, and a package of food, but no gun. 



The grizzly had disappeared by the time I 

 crossed the canon, but a clear line of tracks led 

 westward. I followed them over the Divide and 

 down into the woods on the other side. In a scat- 



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