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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"Tales of lonely trails"

Niels got four shots an' I got three. Reckon one of us
stung him a little. Lordy, how he run! An' his last jump off the slide
was a header into the brush. He crossed the canyon, an' climbed thet
high east slope of Dude, goin' over the pass where father killed the big
cinnamon three years ago. The hounds stuck to his trail. It took us an
hour or more to climb up to thet pass. Broad bear trail goes over. We
heard the hounds 'way down in the canyon on the other side. Niels an' I
worked along the ridge, down an' around, an' back to Dude Creek. I kept
callin' the hounds till they all came back. They couldn't catch him. He
sure was a jack-rabbit for runnin'. Reckon thet's all.... Now who was
smokin' shells up on the rim?"
When all was told and talked over Haught said: "Wal, you can just bet we
put up two brown bears an' one black bear, an' thet old Jasper of a
silvertip."
How hungry and thirsty and tired I was when we got back to camp! The day
had been singularly rich in exciting thrills and sensorial perceptions.
I called to the Jap: "I'm starv-ved to death!" And Takahashi, who had
many times heard my little boy Loren yell that, grinned all over his
dusky face. "Aw, lots good things pretty soon!"
After supper we lounged around a cheerful, crackling camp-fire. The
blaze roared in the breeze, the red embers glowed white and opal, the
smoke swooped down and curled away into the night shadows.


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