stling and growling over another track. A bear track, huge,
deeply impressed in the sand. The beast's great spoor crossed the outer
edge of the sand, following the direction of the moccasin tracks. It
was thrillingly fresh, if Baree's bristling spine and rumbling voice
meant anything.

David's eyes followed the direction of the two trails. A hundred yards
upstream he could see where gravel and rock were replaced entirely by
sand, quite a wide, unbroken sweep of it, across which those clawed and
moccasined feet must have travelled if they had followed the creek. He
was not interested in the bear, and Baree was not interested in the
Indian boy; so when they came to the sand one followed the moccasin
tracks and the other the claw tracks. They were not at any time more
than ten feet apart. And then, all at once, they came together, and
David saw that the bear had crossed the sand last and that his huge paws
had obliterated a part of the moccasin trail. This did not strike him as
unusually significant until he came to a point where the moccasins
turned sharply and circled to the right. The bear followed. A little
farther--and David's heart gave a sudden thump! At first it might have
been coincidence, a bit of chance. It was chance no longer. It was
deliberate. The claws were on the trail of the moccasins. David halted
and pocketed his pipe, on which he had not drawn a breath in several
minutes. He looked at his rifle, making sure that it was ready for
action. Baree was growling. His white fangs gleamed and lurid lights
were in his eyes as he gazed ahead and sniffed. David shuddered. Without
doubt the claws had overtaken the moccasins by this time.

It was a grizzly. He guessed so much by the size of the spoor. He
followed it across a bar of gravel. Then they turned a twist in the
creek and came to other sand. A cry of amazement burst from David's
lips when he looked closely at the two trails again.

_The moccasins were now following the grizzly!_

He stared, for a few moments disbelieving his eyes. Here, too, there was
no room for doubt. The feet of the Indian boy had trodden in the tracks
of the bear. The evidence was conclusive; the fact astonishing. Of
course, it was barely possible....

Whatever the thought might have been in David's mind, it never reached a
conclusion. He did not cry out at what he saw after that. He made no
sound. Perhaps he did not even breathe. But it was there--under his
eyes; inexplicable, ama