“Doc, he’s paddin’ along!” warned Copple.  “Smoke some of them shells!”

Straining every nerve I aimed as before, only a little in advance, held tight and pulled at the same instant.  The bear doubled up in a ball and began to roll down the slide.  He scattered the leaves.  Then into the thicket he crashed, knocking the oaks, and cracking the brush.

“Some shot!” yelled Copple.  “He’s your bear!”

But my bear continued to crash through the brush.  I shot again and yet again, missing both times.  Apparently he was coming, faster now—­and then he showed dark almost at the foot of our slope.  Trees were thick there.  I could not see there, and I could not look for bear and reload at the same moment.  My fingers were not very nimble.

“Don’t shoot,” shouted Copple.  “He’s your bear.  I never make any mistakes when I see game hit.”

“But I see him coming!”

“Where?...  By Golly! that’s another bear.  He’s black.  Yours is red....  Look sharp.  Next time he shows smoke him!”

I saw a flash of black across an open space—­I heard a scattering of gravel.  But I had no chance to shoot.  Then both of us heard a bear running in thick leaves.

“He’s gone down the canyon,” said Copple.  “Now look for your bear.”

“Listen Ben.  The hounds are coming fast.  There’s Rock.—­There’s Sue.”

“I see them.  Old Dan—­what do you think of that old dog?...  There!—­your red bear’s still comin’ ...  He’s bad hurt.”

Though Copple tried hard to show me where, and I strained my eyes, I could not see the bear.  I could not locate the threshing of brush.  I knew it seemed close enough for me to be glad I was not down in that thicket.  How the hounds made the welkin ring!  Rock was in the lead.  Sue was next.  And Old Dan must have found the speed of his best days.  Strange he did not bay all down that slope!  When Rock and Sue headed the bear then I saw him.  He sat up on his haunches ready to fight, but they did not attack him.  Instead they began to yelp wildly.  I dared not shoot again for fear of hitting one of them.  Old Dan just beat the rest of the pack to the bear.  Up pealed a yelping chorus.  I had never heard Old Dan bay a bear at close range.  With deep, hoarse, quick, wild roars he dominated that medley.  A box canyon took up the bays, cracking them back in echo from wall to wall.

From the saddle of the great ridge above pealed down R.C.’s:  “Waahoo!”

I saw him silhouetted dark against the sky line.  He waved and I answered.  Then he disappeared.

Nielsen bellowed from the craggy cape above and behind us.  From down the canyon Edd sent up his piercing:  “Ki Yi!” Then Takahashi appeared opposite to us, like a goat on a promontory.  How his:  “Banzai!” rang above the baying of the hounds!

“We’d better hurry down an’ across,” said Copple.  “Reckon the hounds will jump that bear or some one else will get there first.  We got to skedaddle!”