270 CAMP-FIRES IN THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 



one thing that every good poker-player knows, — ^wHen 

 to " lay down " my hand. 



" No, I think not. I would only be a hindrance to 

 the rest of you, and I might be the means of your losing 

 the bear. Go ahead; and I'll stay here and see you do 

 it. I've got my grizzly, and that one is yours, in any 

 event." 



" I'll stay here, too," said Charlie. " Now, you fel- 

 lows light right out.^^ 



Meanwhile, Mr. Phillips was hurriedly removing 

 from his person everything that could be spared, even 

 to his pocket knife; for in a run like that about to be 

 made, every ounce counts. 



" Come on. Jack! " cried Mack. With his blue eyes 

 glinting, and his face aglow he backed over the edge of 

 the rim-rock, and dashed down into the green timber, 

 with John leaping after him, like two deer escaping from 

 a pen. The ground was soft, and they ran with great 

 plunging strides, covering at least eight feet at every 

 step. It was surprising that neither of them pitched 

 headlong downward against a tree trunk. In five seconds 

 the green shadows had swallowed them. 



" I pity that bear, with those wolves after him," said 

 Charlie, reflectively. 



He sat down, as agreed, to watch the bear constantly, 

 and to give semaphore signals, with his hat, to show the 

 location of the animal whenever the time came to attack 

 it. It had been agreed, as an estimate, that it would take 

 the hunters an hour to reach the bear by the course they 

 had mapped out as most likely to lead to success. 



