Bear could cross and soon was a mile away. The big Bear limped back to
his mate, but she no longer responded to his touch. He watched about
for a time, but no one came. The silvery hide was never touched by
man, and when the semblance of his mate was gone, Gringo quit the
place.

The world was full of hunters, traps, and guns. He turned toward the
lower hills where the sheep grazed, where once he had raided Pedro's
flocks, limping along, for now he had another flesh-wound. He found
the scent of the foe that killed his "Silver-brown," and would have
followed, but it ceased at a place where a horse-track joined. Yet he
found it again that night, mixed with the sheep smell so familiar
once. He followed this, sore and savage. It led him to a settler's
flimsy shack, the house of Tampico's parents, and as the big Bear
reached it two human beings scrambled out of the rear door.

"My husband," shrieked the woman, "pray! Let us pray to the saints for
help!"

"Where is my pistol?" cried the husband.

"Trust in the saints," said the frightened woman.

"Yes, if I had a cannon, or if this was a cat; but with only a
pepper-box pistol to meet a Bear mountain it is better to trust to a
tree," and old Tampico scrambled up a pine.

The Grizzly looked into the shack, then passed to the pig-pen, killed
the largest there, for this was a new kind of meat, and carrying it
off, he made his evening meal.