My horse grew excited, which fact
increased his pace, his obstinacy, and likewise my danger. Twice he
unseated me. I tore my coat, lost my hat, scratched my face, skinned
my knees, but somehow I managed to keep within hearing.
I came to a deep brush-choked gorge, impassable at that point. Luckily
the hounds turned here and started back my way. By riding along
the edge of this gorge I kept up with them. They climbed out an
intersecting ravine and up on the opposite side. I forced my horse to
go down this rather steep soft slope. At the bottom I saw a little
spring of water with fresh bear tracks around it, and one place where
the bear had caved in a soft bank. Here my horse suddenly plunged and
went to his knees in the yielding red clay. He snorted in fright. The
bank slid with him and I tumbled off. But nothing serious happened. I
ran down, caught him, mounted, and spurred him up the other side. Once
up he began to run. I heard the boys yelling not far away and the
hounds were baying up above me. They were climbing fast, working to
the left, toward an oak thicket. It took effort to slow down my steed.
He acted crazy and I began to suspect that he had caught a whiff of
the bear. Most horses are afraid of bears and lions. Sight of Edd and
George, who appeared in an open spot, somewhat quieted my mount.
"Trail's gettin' hot up there," declared Edd.
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