26 The Black Bear 



Ben, objecting to the change of programme, had been 

 taking it out on the horse. I at once tied him up so 

 short that he could not reach the horse from the pack, 

 and, although he was in a huff all that day, we had no 

 further trouble with him. Only twice after this, 

 however, did we mount him on any other horse but his 

 own Buckskin. 



Each day^s travel now brought us nearer to the main 

 range, and one day we climbed the last ridge and 

 camped on the border of one of the beautiful summit 

 meadows where grow the camas, the shooting-star, 

 the dog-tooth violet, the spring beauty, and other 

 plants that the grizzlies love. The snow, by now, 

 had disappeared, except the immense banks lying in 

 the deep ravines on the north side of the upper peaks; 

 the marshes were literally cut up by the tracks of deer, 

 elk, and moose; while freshly dug holes and the enor- 

 mous tracks of grizzlies told us plainly that we had 

 reached the happy hunting ground. And now I began 

 to learn from Ben much about the wonderful instincts 

 of animals. Ben had never, before we captured him, 

 had a mouthful of any food except his mother's milk. 

 Not only had the family just left the winter den in 

 which the little cubs had been born, but the earth at 

 that time, and for long after, had been covered deep 

 with snow. So that there was nothing for even a 

 grown bear to eat except some of the scant grasses that 

 our horses found along the little open places on the 



