20 The Black Bear 



grass and literally carpeted with flowers. So one morn- 

 ing we rounded up the ponies, saddled and packed 

 them, put the cub into a grain sack, tied up the mouth, 

 placed it on top of one of the packs, tied each of its four 

 corners to one of the lash ropes that held the pack to 

 the horse, and started into the unexplored Clearwater 

 country in the heart of the Bitter Roots. 



The horse selected for Ben's mount was a little tan- 

 colored beast who gave very little trouble on the trail, 

 and whom we called Buckskin. We never had to lead 

 him and he would always follow without watching. 

 He would, when he found good feed, loiter behind until 

 the pack train was nearly out of sight; but then, with 

 a loud neigh, he would come charging along, jumping 

 logs and dashing through thick bushes until the train 

 was again caught up with. The first day's travel was a 

 dangerous one for the bear on account of the many 

 low-hanging limbs. We were obliged to keep a con- 

 stant watch lest one of these catch the sack and either 

 sweep it from the pack or crush Ben to death inside it. 

 But with care and good luck we got through safely and, 

 after seven hours of travel, reaching an open side hill 

 with pknty of feed for the horses and a clear cold spring, 

 we went into camp. 



While we were unpacking the horses an old trapper 

 and prospector known as Old Jerry came along. He 

 was one of the first men who made their way into that 

 wilderness, and for many years he and his cabin on the 



