split in two directions, where the Don 
had secured one of his Silver-tip tro- 
phies. We decided not to take the older 
dog, but would use them both on a lion 
hunt later on, as they were better 
trained for that purpose. 
The morning dawned clear and cold, 
with a thick coating of frost on every- 
thing. An hour after breakfast found 
us at the confluence of the two canyons. 
A little sand bar where the two streams 
united, bore the unmistakable evidence 
that a great bear had but recently 
passed that way. 
































hd E’RE not more than a half hour 
behind him,” remarked the Don, 
and he has gone up the left hand fork. 
If we hurry, we may be able to see him 
before he takes to higher ground.” 
A quarter of a mile upstream we 
saw fresh droppings and knew for a 
certainty that we were not far behind. 
There we decided to turn our mounts 
over to the boy, whom we had brought 
along for this purpose, and hurriedly 
proceeded on foot. Although the wind 
was favorable to us, the bear had evi- 
dently become aware of our pursuit, 
for his tracks in the soft spots gave 
evidence of haste. At this point the 
canyon narrowed down considerably, 
and the ground became so rocky that 
it was impossible to follow any trail, 
so we halted momentarily to decide 
what course to pursue. 
“He must either continue upstream, 
or take to the rocky beachland on either 
side,” declared the Don, “so I suggest 
that each of you take a bench, and I 
will continue up the stream bed. Then, 
if he climbs on either side, one of you 
are almost certain to get a shot at 
him.” 
We wasted no further time. I took 
the left bench, and Jack the right. I 
climbed a dry wash to the bench above, 
where I found the going rather hard, 
but it did not in the least dampen my 
ardor. There, it was up and down dry 
washes, until I experienced somewhat 
the same sensation that I imagine an 
ant would experience in running over 
a corrugated roof. However, the ground 
soon took on a smoother aspect with the 
dry washes less frequent, but some 
what deeper. 
I MOVED out to a rocky point to see 
if I could get a glimpse of Jack, or 
the Don. I had no sooner come to the 
edge of the bench, when the canyon still- 
ness was rent by the report of a rifle. 
A movement on the opposite bench 
caught my attention and I recognized 
Jack. I let out a keen whistle, and he 
looked across. On seeing me he pointed 
across to my side of the stream, and 
some distance ahead. I understood, and 
wasted no time in retracing my steps 
to where I could proceed. 
The washes were so deep now that 
Page 685 











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