The trail was rough, even for Arizonians, which made it for me little short of impassable.  I got off to lead my horse.  He had to be pulled most of the time, wherefore I lost patience with him.  I loved horses, but not stubborn ones.  All the way down the rocky trail the bunch grass and wild oak and manzanita were so thick that I had to crush my way through.  At length I had descended the steep part to find Edd and George waiting for me below on the juniper benches.  These were slopes of red earth or clay, bare of grass, but thick with junipers, cactus, and manzanita.  This face of the great rim was a southern exposure, hot and dusty.  The junipers were thick.  The green of their foliage somewhat resembled cedars, but their berries were gray-blue, almost lavender in color.  I tasted several from different trees, until I found one with sweet, somewhat acrid taste.  Significant it was that this juniper had broken branches where bears had climbed to eat the fruit, and all around on the ground beneath was bear sign.  Edd said the tracks were cold, but all the same he had to be harsh with the hounds to hold them in.  I counted twenty piles of bear manure under one juniper, and many places where bears had scraped in the soft earth and needles.

We went on down this slope, getting into thicker brush and rougher ground.  All at once the hounds opened up in thrilling chorus of bays and barks.  I saw Edd jump off his horse to stoop and examine the ground, where evidently he had seen a bear track.  “Fresh—­made last night!” he yelled, mounting hurriedly.  “Hi!  Hi!  Hi!” His horse leaped through the brush, and George followed.  In an instant they were out of sight.  Right there my trouble began.  I spurred my horse after them, and it developed that he differed from me in regard to direction and going.  He hated the brush.  But I made him take to it and made him run.  Dodging branches was an old story for me, and if I had been on a good fast horse I might have kept Edd and George in sight.  As it was, however, I had to follow them by the sound of hoofs and breaking brush.  From the way the hounds bayed I knew they had struck a hot scent.  They worked down the slope, and assuredly gave me a wild ride to keep within hearing of them.  My horse grew excited, which fact increased his pace, his obstinacy, and likewise my danger.  Twice he unseated me.  I tore my coat, lost my hat, scratched my face, skinned my knees, but somehow I managed to keep within hearing.

I came to a deep brush-choked gorge, impassable at that point.  Luckily the hounds turned here and started back my way.  By riding along the edge of this gorge I kept up with them.  They climbed out an intersecting ravine and up on the opposite side.  I forced my horse to go down this rather steep soft slope.  At the bottom I saw a little spring of water with fresh bear tracks around it, and one place where the bear had caved in a soft bank.  Here my horse suddenly plunged and went to his knees