Then I hurried to tell you. They can't be far."
"Are they grizzlies?" I asked, trying to speak naturally.
"Nope. Jest plain black bears. But the one with the trap is a whopper.
He'll go over four hundred. See the tracks? Looks like somebody'd been
plowin' up the stones."
There were deep tracks in the sand, and broad furrows, and stones
overturned, and places where a heavy object had crushed the gravel even and
smooth.
The old hunter kept striding on, and I wondered bow he could go so fast
without running. Presently we came to where the canyon forked. Hiram
started up the right-hand fork, then suddenly stopped, and, turning, began
to go back, carefully examining the ground.
"They've split on us," he explained. "The ole feller with the trap went up
the right-hand draw, an' the mother an' cub took to the left. Now,
youngster, can you keep your nerve?"
"I think so."
"Wal, you go after the ole feller. You can't miss him, an' he won't be far.
You'll hear him bellerin' long before you git to him, though he might lay
low, so you steer clear of big boulders an' thickets. Kill him, an' then
run back an' take up this draw. The she bear is cute an' may give me the
slip, but if she doesn't climb out soon I'll head her off. Hurry on, now.
Keep your eye peeled, an' you'll be safe as if you were to home.
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