With Gun ^ Rod in Canada 



" My Gawd !" he exclaimed, as he saw me bloody 

 and half denuded. " Did he take a crack at yer ?" 



" Nothing serious," I explained, at the same time 

 making speedy tracks for the proximity of my own fire- 

 arms. I decided then and there never again to be 

 without them a second when on the trail. 



Reaching the camp-fire, which Dave had already 

 started, we found the horses stampeded, but our grub 

 and outfit where we had left them. Building up a good 

 bright fire, David proceeded to dress my arm by the 

 simple process of washing with cold water and sewing 

 up a cut about two inches long by half an inch deep, 

 square across the left biceps. White linen thread and 

 a coarse needle which we carried for " housewife " 

 emergencies did the trick. After this operation we 

 packed in plenty of dry fuel, of which there was an 

 abundance near our camp-fire, and after an unrelished 

 supper we stayed awake all night — David, for the purpose 

 of keeping the fire, and I, on account of the pain in 

 my arm. 



At daylight we started to track the horses, my arm in 

 a handkerchief sling, both of us carrying rifles. We 

 succeeded in rounding them up about half a mile down 

 the canyon, at the lower end of a series of little parks, 

 and drove them back. After hobbling them and having 

 lunch, Dave suggested that we pull out at once for 

 Vernal, where my arm could have the attention of the 

 local surgeon. Although the wound was painful, its 

 being on the left arm did not incapacitate me. But it 

 annoyed me just enough to make me so irritated at that 

 bear that I could have eaten him raw if I could have 

 come up to him. I explained all this to Dave, and he 

 finally consented to help me hunt him. 



We found his tracks where he had crossed the brook. 

 David stooped down and picked up something. It was 



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