92 AN AMERICAN HUNTER 



The hounds were immediately put on the trail of the 

 old one and disappeared over the snow. In a few minutes 

 we followed. It was heavy work getting up the moun- 

 tain-side through the drifts, but once on top we made our 

 way down a nearly bare spur, and then turned to the 

 right, scrambled a couple of miles along a slippery side- 

 hill, and halted. Below us lay a great valley, on the 

 farther side of which a spruce forest stretched up toward 

 the treeless peaks. Snow covered even the bottom of the 

 valley, and lay deep and solid in the spruce forest on the 

 mountain-side. The hounds were in full cry, evidently 

 on a hot trail, and we caught glimpses of them far on the 

 opposite side of the valley, crossing little open glades in 

 the spruce timber. If the crust was hard they scattered 

 out. Where it was at all soft they ran in single file. We 

 worked our way down toward them, and on reaching the 

 bottom of the valley, went up it as fast as the snow would 

 allow. Finally we heard the pack again barking treed 

 and started toward them. They had treed the bear far 

 up the mountain-side in the thick spruce timber, and a 

 short experiment showed us that the horses could not 

 possibly get through the snow. Accordingly, off we 

 jumped and went toward the sound on foot, all the young 

 ranchmen and cowboys rushing ahead, and thereby again 

 making me an easy trail. On the way to the tree the rider 

 of the bareback horse pounced on a snowshoe rabbit 

 which was crouched under a bush and caught it with his 

 hands. It was half an hour before we reached the tree, 

 a big spruce, up which the bear had gone to a height of 

 some forty feet. I broke her neck with a single bullet. 



