Why he didn't swat me, I don't know. But I tell you this, Pedro: the
B'ar what killed your sheep on the upper pasture and in the sheep
canon is the same. No two B'ars has hind feet alike when you get a
clear-cut track, and this holds out even right along."

"What about the fifty-foot B'ar I saw wit' mine own eyes, caramba?"

"That must have been the night you were working a kill-care with your
sheep-herder's delight. But don't worry; I'll get him yet."

So Kellyan set out on a long hunt, and put in practice every trick he
knew for the circumventing of a Bear. Lou Bonamy was invited to join
with him, for his yellow cur was a trailer. They packed four horses
with stuff and led them over the ridge to the east side of Tallac, and
down away from Jack's Peak, that Kellyan had named in honor of his
Bear cub, toward Fallen Leaf Lake. The hunter believed that here he
would meet not, only the Gringo Bear that he was after, but would also
stand a chance of finding others, for the place had escaped the fire.

They quickly camped, setting up their canvas sheet for shade more than
against rain, and after picketing their horses in a meadow, went out
to hunt. By circling around Leaf Lake they got a good idea of the wild
population: plenty of deer, some Black Bear, and one or two Cinnamon
and Grizzly, and one track along the shore that Kellyan pointed to,
briefly saying: "That's him."

"Ye mean old Pedro's Gringo?"

"Yep. That's the fifty-foot Grizzly. I suppose he stands maybe seven
foot high in daylight, but, 'course, B'ars pulls out long at night."