n8 The Grizzly Bear 



to strike a bargain, and then it was agreed that, for one 

 hundred and fifty dollars, the trapper would spring his 

 traps and leave the country until we were through hunting, 

 when he was to be at liberty to come back and take up his 

 work where he had dropped it. 



Just as the bargain was closed I looked up the slide 

 where we had seen our second bear the year before, and 

 there, six or eight hundred yards away, was an old grizzly 

 unconcernedly eating grass. Coleman and I seized our 

 rifles and started across the valley toward one of the trails 

 we had cut for such occasions, and the old trapper, in a 

 holiday mood, reached for his gun and brought up the 

 rear. We had the creek to cross and a steep bank to climb 

 beyond it, and between the camp and the creek there was 

 at least four feet of snow, its surface made treacherous and 

 insecure by hidden cavities that had melted around the 

 warm trunks of fallen trees. Just as we reached the creek 

 we heard a cry, and turning, saw the old man's face pro- 

 jecting ludicrously from a snow-drift, and looking like a 

 red and angry sun poised at the horizon. It was no time, 

 however, for either jokes or rescues, and Coleman and I 

 crossed the creek, climbed the bank, struggled through a 

 thicTcet of brush surmounting it, and gained the trail that 

 we had cut the year before; and then, with bent backs and 

 silent steps, we worked our way to the edge of the little 

 stream fed by the melting snow and just beyond which we 

 had seen the bear. Cautiously we covered the last few 

 steps, cautiously we peered between the branches, and (it 

 was so like old times that it made us feel at home) the 

 bear was gone. 



As we stood for a time peering carefully about us, my 



