“Wal, fellars, I’m figgerin’ hard an’ I reckon here’s my stand.  We jest naturally have to get Doc an’ his brother a bear apiece.  Shore I expected we’d get ’em a couple.  Now, them traps we seen are all small.  We didn’t run across no bear traps.  An’ I reckon we can risk the dogs.  We’ll shore go back an’ drive Verde Canyon.  We can’t do no worse than break a leg for a dog.  I’d hate to see thet happen to Old Dan or Tom.  But we’ll take a chance.”

After that there fell a moment’s silence.  I could see from Edd’s face what a serious predicament this was.  Nothing was plainer than his fondness for the hounds.  Finally he said:  “Sure.  We’ll take a chance.”  Their devotion to my interest, their simple earnestness, warmed me to them.  But not for all the bears under the rim would I have been wittingly to blame for Old Dan or Old Tom breaking a leg.

“Men, I’ve got a better plan,” I said.  “We’ll let the bears here rest for a spell.  Supplies are about gone.  Let’s go back to Beaver Dam camp for a week or so.  Rest up the hounds.  Maybe we’ll have a storm and a cold snap that will improve conditions.  Then we’ll come back here.  I’ll send Haught down to buy off the trappers.  I’ll pay them to spring their traps and let us have our hunt without risk of the hounds.”

Instantly the men brightened.  The insurmountable obstacles seemed to melt away.  Only Haught demurred a little at additional and unreasonable expense for me.  But I cheered him over this hindrance, and the last part of that evening round the camp-fire was very pleasant.

The following morning we broke camp, and all rode off, except Haught and his son George, who remained to hunt a strayed burro.  “Reckon thet lion eat him.  My best burro.  He was the one your boy was always playin’ with.  I’m goin’ to assassinate thet lion.”

On the way back to Beaver Dam camp I happened to be near Takahashi when he dismounted to shoot at a squirrel.  Returning to get back in the saddle the Jap forgot to approach the mustang from the proper side.  There was a scuffle between Takahashi and the mustang as to which of them should possess the bridle.  The Jap lost this argument.  Edd had to repair the broken bridle.  I watched Takahashi and could see that he did not like the mustang any better than the mustang liked him.  Soon the struggle for supremacy would take place between this ill assorted rider and horse.  I rather felt inclined to favor the latter; nevertheless it was only fair to Takahashi to admit that his buckskin-colored mustang had some mean traits.

In due time I arrived at our permanent camp, to be the last to get in.  Lee and his father welcomed us as familiar faces in a strange land.  As I dismounted I heard heavy thuds and cracks accompanied by fierce utterances in a foreign tongue.  These sounds issued from the corral.

“I’ll bet the Jap got what was coming to him,” declared Lee.

We all ran toward the corral.  A bunch of horses obstructed our view, and we could not see Takahashi until we ran round to the other side.  The Jap had the buckskin mustang up in a corner and was vigorously whacking him with a huge pole.  Not by any means was the mustang docile.  Like a mule, he kicked.  “Hey George,” yelled Lee, “don’t kill him!  What’s the matter?”