alled the "bad lands" on account of its jungle of woods, streams,
swamps and terminal moraines, where bowlders of all sizes had been
deposited by an ancient glacier. Through this tangle it was impossible
to move without making noise, for a fire had swept over it and young
lodge-pole trees had sprung up so close together that it was impossible
to move without crashing into them. It was while on hands and knees in
one of these thickets of new growth that I came upon bear tracks. The
tracks were the largest I had even seen, so I gripped my gun tightly
and peered about warily. The tracks pointed west, so I headed east,
crashing through the trees ponderously, giving an occasional yell to
help the bear keep out of my way.

I had gone about a hundred yards and was congratulating myself on my
escape, when, to my horror, I discovered fresh tracks paralleling mine.
Altering my course I went on, shouting vigorously, but with less
confidence of scaring the bear out of the region.

In this extremity I recalled a bit of advice the Parson had given me.

"Don't ever let on you're afraid," he cautioned me one day, "because if
you do the animal may turn on you."

With this in mind I faced about, took up the bear's trail, and with
ready rifle, followed it. I kept looking behind me, to the right and
to the left. The wind was blowing snow off the high peaks above and it
made the tracks easily followed, for it kept them fresh. They turned
aside, angled off, tacked and came back close to their first line.
Around and around I trailed. A dozen times I stopped with my heart in
my mouth, the rifle at my shoulder, but my alarm was occasioned by some
other denizen of the wilds. Twice deer crashed away and left me rooted
fast; and once, a cock grouse took the air from a rock just above my
head, and nearly precipitated a stampede.

Finally I gave up the chase and started home, still watching warily for
the bear. Better to guard against attack I climbed a little ridge that
overlooked the irregular openings through which I had been trailing;
and up there, paralleling my course, were bear tracks. Bruin had been
craftily looking me over from his higher position. I at once advised
that bear, by every means at my command, that he was no longer being
hunted, and I made tracks for home as fast as my legs would let me,
watching warily, or bearily, in all directions.

The Parson laughed heartily when I told of my experience that night as
toge