American Big-Game Hunting 
of silver clouds, and the main range we were 
standing on was brought out in all its daz- 
zling grandeur. Snow-drift upon snow-drift, 
with gracefully curling crests, stretched away 
as far as the eye could reach, for miles and 
miles. Still we saw no bears, and while we 
were enjoying all this wonderful scenery we 
neglected the storm, and were soon envel- 
oped in a raging tempest of wind and snow 
with a demoniacal accompaniment of light- 
ning and crashing thunder. 
We hunched up our backs and stumbled 
along the ridge before the blast, and were 
soon brought up by adrift. However, here was 
luck for once. We saw the print of two fresh 
bear-tracks crossing the drift. All thoughts 
of the storm were lost in our delight at the 
vicinity of bears, for the sign was very fresh. 
Alas, though, we lost the tracks after cross- 
ing the drift, and could not find them again 
upon the rugged soil of these ridges where 
the wind had blown the snow off. We circled 
round and round, studying every patch of 
snow, and my companion, Woody, looked and 
spoke doubtfully. At last I caught the trail 
again. Only a half-dozen tracks, but enough 
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