Hunting American Big Game 



Woody and I, with our little pack-train, 

 regretfully filed off, and, fording the river, 

 took up our wanderings, not expecting to 

 see our cheery host again for a year. 



We had not proceeded far, though, 

 when we met an excited " cow-puncher," 

 who evidently had news to tell. He had 

 been up on the side of the mountain, which 

 was here a long grassy slope as smooth 

 as any of our well-tended lawns, extending 

 upward to where it joined the dense pine 

 forest which covered the upper portion of 

 the mountain. Our friend was the horse- 

 wrangler for a neighboring ranch, and was 

 out looking for horses. Did any one ever 

 see a horse-wrangler who was not looking 

 for missing stock ? 



. When skirting the timber, he surprised, 

 or was surprised by, a good-sized grizzly, 

 which promptly chased him downward 

 and homeward, and evidently for a short 

 distance was well up in the race. Gather- 

 ing from his description that the bear had 

 been at work on the carcass of a steer that 

 had died from eating poison- weed, I de- 

 termined to go back and camp, and see if 

 another skin could not be added to the 

 score. It did not take long to pick out 

 an ideal camping-spot, well sheltered, with 

 plenty of dry wood, and trout from the 



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