152 BIG GAME FIELDS 



canon we started to climb Back Bone Ridge, and 

 when nearing the top several of the hounds rolled 

 out that music of fine deep baying on the morn- 

 ing air that thrills the heart of every hunter who 

 has heard his hounds strike a fresh trail. They 

 w r ere off, sure enough, and it certainly looked 

 like our busy day. 



Over the ridge they took, then along the side. 

 We looked along in the soft places and finally 

 saw the track, and what a print he left! It was 

 not necessary to look twice to see that this Mr. 

 Grizzly had waxed large and fat. The hounds 

 were getting quite a lead on us, but you can bet 

 a hatful of tobacco we were doing our best to 

 keep up! They dropped down the side of the 

 canon beyond and into some of the rough places ; 

 and so it went until late in the afternoon. Twice 

 they held him up while we could hear the furious 

 fighting, barks, yelps, and growls, with the tum- 

 bling of rocks down steep slopes, but just as we 

 were coming up he would push on again. The 

 old silver-tip, no doubt, had fought many hard 

 battles and was a game scrapper; anyone who 

 has ever made the acquaintance of a grizzly 

 will tell you the same they are the hardest lot 

 that roams the wilds. The dogs fought on 

 bravely until late in the afternoon, when we 



