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 a drift. 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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