A CHROMATIC BEAR HUNT 



An hour later I was still flattened against 

 the slope, working my way through the hang- 

 ing alders, when I spied Joe far below me, 

 returning. He heard my signal and came 

 toiling upward. 



"Mine got away!" he called, when within 

 speaking distance, "but this feller won't get 

 far, bleeding like that." 



Together we wormed our way through the 

 tangle, here searching out a broken twig, 

 there noting a leaf spotted red. We were 

 perched upon a ledge thickly obstructed with 

 vegetation, when the bear rose to his haunches 

 immediately in front of us. 



"Let him have it!" said Joe, kneeling to 

 afford me room. "I 'ain't got but one shell." 



"Look out for your ears," I cautioned, aim- 

 ing over his shoulder. It was a hard shot at 

 those two red eyes through the leaves, for I 

 was contorted and unbalanced by the slanting 

 alder trunks and my footing was insecure. 



"You got him!" Joe cried, but when we ad- 

 vanced the animal had disappeared as if by 

 magic, leaving neither trace nor trail. 



"He's down yonder somewhere. I heard 

 him fall." 



We could see nothing, so we lowered our- 

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