nd, which was
coming from the south and west. It did not bring him the scent he
wanted--the smell of his mate. Yet an instinct that was more infallible
than reason told him that she was near, or should be near. He did not take
accident or sickness or the possibility of hunters having killed her into
consideration. This was where he had always started in to hunt for her, and
sooner or later he had found her. He knew her smell. And he crossed and
recrossed the bottoms so that it could not escape him.

When Thor was love-sick he was more or less like a man: that is to say, he
was an idiot. The importance of all other things dwindled into nothingness.
His habits, which were as fixed as the stars at other times, took a
complete vacation. He even forgot hunger, and the whistlers and gophers
were quite safe. He was tireless. He rambled during the night as well as
the day in quest of his lady-love.

It was quite natural that in these exciting hours he should forget Muskwa
almost entirely. At least ten times before sunset he crossed and recrossed
the creek, and the disgusted and almost ready-to-quit cub waded and swam
and floundered after him until he was nearly drowned. The tenth or dozenth
time Thor forded the stream Muskwa revolted and followed along on his own
side. It was not long before the grizzly returned.

It was soon after this, just as the sun was setting, that the unexpected
happened. What little wind there was suddenly swung straight into the east,
and from the western slopes half a mile away it brought a scent that held
Thor motionless in his tracks for perhaps half a minute, and then set him
off on that ambling run which is the ungainliest gait of all four-footed
creatures.

Muskwa rolled after him like a ball, pegging away for dear life, but losing
ground at every jump. In that half-mile stretch he would have lost Thor
altogether if the grizzly had not stopped near the bottom of the first
slope to take fresh reckonings. When he started up the slope Muskwa could
see him, and with a yelping cry for him to wait a minute set after him
again.

Two or three hundred yards up the mountainside the slope shelved downward
into a hollow, or dip, and nosing about in this dip, questing the air as
Thor had quested it, was the beautiful she-grizzly from over the range.
With her was one of her last year's cubs. Thor was within fifty yards of
her when he came over the crest. He stopped. He looked at her. And Iskwao,
"the fema