Flash-Lighting GrizzHes 177 



when we turned back it was still stretching away like a 

 boulevard in the direction of the lake. 



We had seen a group of four really magnificent grizzlies, 

 apparently three-year-olds, come out of these woods the 

 first evening of our stop, and were more than anxious to 

 get a picture of them; but though we spent two long 

 evenings beside the big trail we never laid eyes on them 

 again. The first of these evenings it was raining hard, 

 and we had covered our cameras and had turned down 

 the hinged tops of our flash-pans, and were huddled under 

 such shelter as we could find, when a red squirrel ran up 

 the tree to which our switch was nailed and sprang the 

 flash. There was an explosion that was heard two miles 

 away at our camp, and we were at a loss to determine 

 whether it was caused by the hinge of the flash-pan top 

 having rusted, and so confined the charge, or whether 

 some new powder we were using for the first time was un- 

 reliable. The next week we learned that it was the latter. 



On the last day of August, having left the other mem- 

 bers of the party at Gardner, Mr. Kerfoot, Frank, and 

 myself started back for a week's final photographing in 

 the neighborhood of the canon. There had, meanwhile, 

 been a heavy storm; the mountains were white with snow, 

 and the air was clear and wintry. We reached our des- 

 tination and made camp by two o'clock on the first of 

 September, and Kerfoot and I climbed to the scenes of my 

 earlier efforts and made a hasty survey of the region now 

 so familiar to me. It was already late, and, as we had no 

 time to seek out new locations, I placed my camera near 

 the point where I had been treed by the old bear and cubs, 

 and where I had secured some of my earlier pictures, 



