eld-glass to see him. When I did look he seemed contented. Lee and
Nielsen and Haught I could not see at all. Finding a comfortable seat,
if hard rock could ever be that, I proceeded to accept my wait for
developments. One thing was sure--even though it were a futile way to
hunt it seemed rich in other recompense for me. My stand towered above
a vast colorful slope down which the wind roared as in a gale. How
could I ever hear the hounds? I watched the storm-clouds scudding
across the sky. Once I saw a rare bird, a black eagle in magnificent
flight; and so whatever happened I had my reward in that sight.

Nothing happened. For hours and hours I sat there, with frequent
intermissions away from my hard, rocky seat. Toward the close of
afternoon, when the wind began to get cold, I saw that R.C. had left
his stand. He had undoubtedly gone back to camp, which was some miles
nearer his stand than mine. At last I gave up any hope of hearing
either the hounds or the horn, as the roar of wind had increased. Once
I thought I heard a distant rifle shot. So I got on my horse and set
out to find camp. I was on a promontory, the sides of which were
indented by long ravines that were impassable except near their heads.
In fact I had been told there was only one narrow space where it was
possible to get off this promontory. Lucky indeed that I remembered
Haught telling of this! Anyway I soon found myself lost in a maze of
forested heads of ravines. Finally I went back to the rim on the
west side, and then working along I found our horse-tracks. These I
followed, with difficulty, and after an hour's travel I crossed the
narrow neck of the promontory, and back-tracked myself to camp,
arriving there at sunset.

The Haughts had put up two bear. One bear had worked around under one
of the great promontories. The hounds had gotten on his back-trail,
staying on it until it grew cold, then had left it. Their baying had
roused the bear out of his bed, and he had showed himself once or
twice on the open rock-slides. Haught saw the other bear from the rim.
This was a big, red, cinnamon bear asleep under a pine tree on an open
slope. Haught said when the hounds gave tongue on the other trail this
red bear awakened, sat up, and wagged his head slowly. He had never
been chased by hounds. He lay down in his piny bed again. The distance
was too great for an accurate shot, but Haught tried anyway, with the
result that he at least scared the cinnamon o