cartridges was tumbled after it. Whang!
and the water-pail was crushed. Pat-pat-pat! and all the cups were in
useless bits.

Kellyan, safe up the tree, got no fair view to shoot--could only wait
till the storm-center cleared a little. The Bear chanced on a bottle
of something with a cork loosely in it. He seized it adroitly in his
paws, twisted out the cork, and held the bottle up to his mouth with a
comical dexterity that told of previous experience. But, whatever it
was, it did not please the invader; he spat and spilled it out, and
flung the bottle down as Kellyan gazed, astonished. A remarkable
"crack! crack! crack!" from the fire was heard now, and the cartridges
began to go off in ones, twos, fours, and numbers unknown. Gringo
whirled about; he had smashed everything in view. He did not like that
Fourth of July sound, so, springing to a bank, he went bumping and
heaving down to the meadow and had just stampeded the horses when, for
the first time, Gringo exposed himself to the hunter's aim. His flank
was grazed by another leaden stinger, and Gringo, wheeling, went off
into the woods.

The hunters were badly defeated. It was fully a week before they had
repaired all the damage done by their shaggy visitor and were once
more at Fallen Leaf Lake with a new store of ammunition and
provisions, their tent repaired, and their camp outfit complete. They
said little about their vow to kill that Bear. Both took for granted
that it was a fight to the finish. They never said, "_If_ we get him,"
but, "_When_ we get him."

XI. THE FORD

Gringo, savage, but still discreet, scaled the long mountain-side when
he left the ruined camp, and afar on the southern slope he sought a
quiet bed in a manzanita thicket, there to lie down and nurse his
wounds and ease his head so sorely aching with the jar of his
shattered tooth. There he lay for a day and a night, sometimes in
great pain, and at no time inclined to stir. But, driven forth by
hunger on the second day, he quit his couch and, making for the
nearest ridge, he followed that and searched the wind with his nose.
The smell of a mountain hunter reached him. Not knowing just what to
do he sat down and did nothing. The smell grew stronger, he heard
sounds of trampling; closer they came, then the brush parted and a man
on horseback appeared. The horse snorted and tried to wheel, but the
ridge was narrow and one false step might have been serious. The
cowboy held his horse i