Trailing 85 



other small holes for squirrels, but none had detained him 

 very long. 



But on the next ridge I found another bed, and knew, 

 since the snow was not frozen around it and there was no 

 frost on the leaves and grass where he had lain, that bruin 

 had left it after daybreak. Then, too, the heat from his 

 body had melted the snow and left the ground damp, and 

 as this had not had time to freeze I knew that he had but 

 recently moved on. In the next mile he had only stopped 

 once, and once he had made the usual detour to see if all 

 was well, and had then wandered aimlessly about for 

 a while and finally turned toward a thick clump of bushes 

 and stunted trees that grew on the side of the mountain in 

 a small ravine. 



Searching the side of the hill with the glasses, I could 

 plainly see where he had entered the brush, but could not 

 see where he had left it. There was, however, one point 

 of possible exit that I could not see, so I climbed up and 

 around the spot, and looking down from above, found that 

 the bear must indeed be there, and within shooting dis- 

 tance. Selecting then a position from which I commanded 

 all the strategic points, I rolled a small rock down the 

 mountain nearly, but not quite, into the bushes. This 

 went bounding down, making much noise, and soon I saw 

 the small trees near the centre of the brush move, and 

 knew that the bear was on the alert. I could follow his 

 movements by those of the bushes, and when he showed 

 his head I was ready for him. He did not come out 

 with a rush, but walked quietly to his death; and as 

 his head pushed through the edge of the bushes, one 

 of my old six-hundred-grain bullets met him at the 



