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e man, an' Injun, in these parts half t' death, so most of 'ems afeared to come back here at all. Men have gone in the park jest to get this wild man's scalp, but they've done come back scared yaller an' they ain't opened their trap much about him since nuther. They do say he spits fire an' chaws his meat offen the bone an' then cracks the bones like a dog an' swallers it all. They do say, too, that he roars like forty devils with their tails cut off when he gits mad an' some say as when he wants t' git som wha' in a hurry he jest grabs aholt o' the feet o' tha' there thunder bird and she flies off with him and draps him anywha' he asks her to--Nope, I hain't seen none of these things myself but others say they has, an' believe me, I'm plumb cautious when travelin' these parts alone. Howsomever, he hain't yet skeered me 'nough to make my ha'r come out by the roots," said Pete with a yawn. "There, kick that back log over so's the fire can lick at t'other side; now let's turn in." CHAPTER IV Big Pete and I spent several weeks in our charming little camp at the lower end of the park, for my guide decided that despite the recent presence of the wild hunter, here would be a good place to get a shot at some black-tail deer. In fact we saw signs of those animals all about and my guide was only looking for fresh indication to start out on our last hunt before we made our way deeper into the wilderness. On the third day of our stay I was returning to camp with my shotgun over my shoulder and a brace of sage grouse in my hand, when I came upon Big Pete in a swail about a mile from camp. He was bending low and examining fresh signs when he saw me. "Howdy, kid, here's some doin's. Shall we foller him?" "Of course, Pete; what are we here for, the mountain air?" I answered. "No," answered Pete, in his deep, low voice, "we're here for game," and off he started, but slowly and with great caution. I felt impatient, but restrained myself, saying nothing and continued to follow my big guide who now moved with the most painstaking care. Not a twig broke beneath his moccasins as with panther-like step and crouching form he led me through a lot of young trees over a rocky place until we struck a small spring with a soft muddy margin. Here Pete came to a sudden halt. I asked him why he did not go on, and he pointed to a ledge of rock that ran up the mountain side diagonally with a flat, natural roadbed on top, graded like
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