meal. But I was not trying to do 

 him harm, and so he granted me the 

 same tolerance. Then, too, not far 

 away was a bear track, and the canned 

 peaches were fewer than the night 

 before. 



All of this caused Nimrod and the 

 bear-hunter to saddle their horses early; 

 and agreeing to meet us at night on the 

 other side of the mountain, where the 

 map showed a stream, they set out for a 

 day's hunt. Nimrod's horse having 

 gone slightly lame, I offered mine, a 

 swift-footed intelligent dear, and agreed 

 to ride in the wagon. 



It was the same old story. Virtue 

 is somebody else's reward. I never 

 had a worse day in the mountains. 

 Green and I started blithely enough by 

 nine, which had meant a 5:30 rising in 

 the cold gray dawn. The horses had 



