Big Game in the Rockies 



to show the right direction, and as we as- 

 cended the ridge the tracks were on, I saw 

 the two rascals across the gulch on an enor- 

 mous snow-drift, tearing and chewing at 

 something, I could not make out what. 



It was still snowing hard, but it was only a 

 squall and nearly over. The wind was wrong; 

 it unfortunately blew toward the bears and the 

 only direction in which we could stalk them. 

 Still an attempt had to be made. We took 

 the bridles from our horses and let down our 

 hacamores, to let them feed comfortably and 

 out of sight, while we crawled up the ridge to 

 where it joined the one the bears were on. 

 We had to creep up a beastly snow-drift, 

 which was soft and no telling how deep. 



It was deep enough, for we went through 

 sometimes to our armpits. But what mat- 

 tered it when we were at concert-pitch, and 

 bears for the tune ? We were now on the same 

 ridge as the bears. Cautiously, with the wind 

 just a little aslant, we crawled down toward 

 our prey, crossing another miserable snow- 

 drift, into which we went up to our necks, 

 where we brought up, our feet having touched 

 bottom. We floundered out behind a small 



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