296 Hunting the Grisly 



devil, some great goblin-beast, abandoned 

 everything but his rifle and struck off at speed 

 down the pass, not halting until he reached 

 the beaver meadows where the hobbled ponies 

 were still grazing: Mounting, he rode on 

 ward through the night, until far beyond the 

 reach of pursuit. 



END OP VOLUME THREE 



