pulled out; and the Grizzly King was gone from his ancient hills.

So they brought him to the great city, the Monarch born, in chains.
They put him in a cage not merely strong enough for a lion, but thrice
as strong, and once a rope gave way as the huge one strained his
bonds. "He is loose," went the cry, and an army of onlookers and
keepers fled; only the small man with the calm eye and the big man of
the hills were stanch, so the Monarch was still held.

Free in the cage, he swung round, looked this way and that, then
heaved his powers against the triple angling steel and wrenched the
cage so not a part of it was square. In time he clearly would break
out. They dragged the prisoner to another that an elephant could not
break down, but it stood on the ground, and in an hour the great beast
had a cavern into the earth and was sinking out of sight, till a
stream of water sent after him filled the hole and forced him again to
view. They moved him to a new cage made for him since he came--a hard
rock floor, great bars of nearly two-inch steel that reached up nine
feet and then projected in for five. The Monarch wheeled once around,
then, rearing, raised his ponderous bulk, wrenched those bars,
unbreakable, and bent and turned them in their sockets with one heave
till the five-foot spears were pointed out, and then sprang to climb.
Nothing but pikes and blazing brands in a dozen ruthless hands could
hold him back. The keepers watched him night and day till a stronger
cage was made, impregnable with steel above and rocks below.

The Untamed One passed swiftly around, tried every bar, examined every
corner, sought for a crack in the rocky floor, and found at last the
place where was a six-inch timber beam--the only piece of wood in its
frame. It was sheathed in iron, but exposed for an inch its whole