e crossed his own trail, he swung back and forth repeatedly.

Half an hour later, the pack came howling to the cliff, and began
seeking a way up. They scattered, swung back and forth along the
ledges, crossed and recrossed the grizzly's tracks, but seemed unable
to follow the way he had gone, before they finally circled the cliff
and picked up his trail again. The bear's ruse had succeeded, by it he
gained several minutes' lead on his pursuers.

The grizzly emerged above timberline near where I sat and galloped
straight for a pass that overlooked the deep canyons, dark forests and
rocky ridges on the other side of the range. Just before he gained it,
three of the dogs broke cover and gave tongue, wildly excited at the
sight of their quarry, and instantly hot on his trail. The bear coolly
kept his same gait, until just short of the pass, at the top of a
steep, smooth incline between two huge rock slabs, he halted and faced
about, waiting for them to come up. When the dogs, panting and spent
from running, dashed up, he had got his wind and was ready for them.

The three dogs rushed pell-mell up the steep rock. With a deafening
roar, the grizzly struck out right and left. Two of the dogs ceased
howling and lay where they fell, the third turned tail and fled. The
bear, stepping over the dead bodies of his vanquished foes, leisurely
proceeded through the pass and down into the wild country beyond.

I have watched other grizzlies under similar conditions, and they have
all shown the same shrewd, cool, craftiness. They appear to reason, to
plan; their actions indicate forethought, premeditation. They seem to
have not only the marvelous instinct of the animal world, but also an
almost human power to think. They conserve their energy, bide their
time, choose their position and, in short, set the stage to their own
advantage. They have an instinct for the psychological moment--it
seems at times that they evolve it out of the chaos of chance.

The Parson said, "You never can tell what a bear will do," and I, for
one, believe him. The oddest performance of an individual bear I ever
saw took place over on the banks of the Poudre River. Rambling through
the forest I came, late one evening, upon the camp of two trappers.
They were making a business of trapping and had extensive trap-lines
set throughout the region, mostly for beavers, minks, bobcats and
coyotes, but some for bears too. In a narrow, dry gulch, one of