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meal. But I was not trying to do 
him harm, and so he granted me the 
same tolerance. Then, too, not far 
away was a bear track, and the canned 
peaches were fewer than the night 
before. 
All of this caused Nimrod and the 
bear-hunter to saddle their horses early ; 
and agreeing to meet us at night on the 
other side of the mountain, where the 
map showed a stream, they set out for a 
day’s hunt. Nimrod’s horse having 
gone slightly lame, I offered mine, a 
swift-footed intelligent dear, and agreed 
to ride in the wagon. 
It was the same old story. Virtue 
is somebody else’s reward. I never 
had a worse day in the mountains. 
Green and I started blithely enough by 
nine, which had meant a §:30 rising in 
the cold gray dawn. The horses had 
