iles from
their present camp.

"The hollows are full of bear tracks," said Merrifield. "I am sure, if
we go up there, we'll get one or more black bears and perhaps a
grizzly."

"Then let us go by all means," responded Theodore Roosevelt. And no time
was lost in moving to the new locality.

The hunters had been out nearly all of the next day, when, on returning
through the forest toward nightfall, Roosevelt came across the footmarks
of a large bear. He tried to follow them, but night closed in on him,
and he had to return to camp. That very night the bear came around the
camp, looking for something to eat.

"Let us try to bring him down," cried Roosevelt, seizing his rifle,
while his companion did the same. But outside it was pitch dark.

"Do you see him?" questioned Merrifield.

"No."

"Neither do I."

"Listen."

Both listened, and at a distance heard the bear lumbering off slowly
through the woods. They went forward a short distance, then came to a
halt.

"We'll have to give it up for the present," said Theodore Roosevelt.
"But I am going to have him, sooner or later, if the thing is possible."

Early the next morning both of the hunters sallied forth and discovered
that the bear had been at the carcasses of some game left in the forest.
The tracks were fresh.

"He has been here, no doubt of it," said Merrifield. "Shall we wait for
him to come again?"

"We might as well," was the answer. "He'll get hungry again, sooner or
later."

So the pair sat down to watch. But the bear was shy, and kept his
distance. Then it grew dark once more, so that but little could be seen
under the trees.

"He knows enough to keep away," said Roosevelt's companion.

"Hark!" was the reply and both strained their ears. There was a faint
crackling of twigs, and they felt certain it was the bear. But it was
too dark to see anything; so both shouldered their rifles and walked
back to camp.

Here was another illustration of Theodore Roosevelt's method of sticking
at a thing. Two days had been spent in trying to get that bear, and yet
he did not give up. On the following morning he sallied forth once more,
as full of hope as before.

The bear had been at the carcass again, and the trail was now one to be
followed with ease.

"I'm going to hunt him down to his lair," said Theodore Roosevelt, and
stalked off with his companion beside him. Soon they were again deep in
the woods, walking perhaps where the foot of white man h