212 HUNTING TRIPS 



neither Merrifield nor I had ever seen a wild 

 bear alive. 



Sometimes we hunted in company ; some- 

 times each of us went out alone; the team- 

 ster, of course, remaining in to guard camp 

 and cook. One day we had separated; I 

 reached camp early in the afternoon, and 

 waited a couple of hours before Merrifield 

 put in an appearance. 



At last I heard a shout the familiar long- 

 drawn Eikoh-h-h of the cattle-men, and he 

 came in sight galloping at speed down an 

 open glade, and waving his hat, evidently 

 having had good luck; and when he reined 

 in his small, wiry, cow-pony, we saw that 

 he had packed behind his saddle the fine, 

 glossy pelt of a black bear. Better still, he 

 announced that he had been off about ten 

 miles to a perfect tangle of ravines and val- 

 leys where bear sign was very thick ; and net 

 of black bear either but of grizzly. The 

 black bear (the only one we got on the 

 mountains) he had run across by accident, 

 while riding up a valley in which there was 



