Flash-Lighting GrizzHes 171 



shadows became longer and deeper and that hushed silence 

 settled on the woods that searches the heart of the timid 

 in the wilderness, my friend's daylight courage began to 

 ooze away. Any one who has never seen a grizzly in such 

 a setting is more than likely to experience a softening of 

 the bones when one appears, and the doctor was no ex- 

 ception to the rule. A couple of young bears now came 

 hurrying down a trail a hundred feet or so to his right and, 

 swinging his arms in the air, he gave a loud whistle, like a 

 policeman signalling for help, and called out to me in a 

 loud voice, "There go two." 



It happened at the moment that I was watching a 

 grizzly on my own side of the woods, and did not care to 

 spoil my chances of a picture by going over and clubbing 

 my friend into a more quiet state of mind, so I stuck to my 

 post and hoped for the best. But before my bear had had 

 a chance to get within range the doctor's whistle again 

 rang out, and once more the information was bawled 

 through the woods that "There go three more down the 

 same trail!" This sent my grizzly back into the woods 

 at double-quick and, making up my mind that that kind 

 of help was too much of a hinderance for my taste, I took 

 up both cameras, gave the doctor my professional opinion 

 of him as a grizzly photographer, and went back to camp. 



After the doctor's retirement another volunteer pre- 

 sented himself in the person of Frank, one of my camp 

 assistants, a man who had lived much of his life in the 

 mountains and who said he was not afraid of any bear 

 that might show itself. So I took him along and set him 

 to watch over the second camera, with the same instruc- 

 tions as those issued to the doctor, and stationed myself 



