outfit. And that moment of first seeing the horses that were to carry
us on such long rides was an anxious and thrilling one. I have felt
it many times, and it never grows any weaker from experience. Many a
scrubby lot of horses had turned out well upon acquaintance, and some
I had found hard to part with at the end of trips. Up to that time,
however, I had not seen a bear hunter's horses; and I was much
concerned by the fact that these were a sorry looking outfit, dusty,
ragged, maneless, cut and bruised and crippled. Still, I reflected,
they were bunched up so closely that I could not tell much about them,
and I decided to wait for Teague before I chose a horse for any one.

In an hour Teague trotted up to our resting place. Beside his own
mount he had two white saddle horses, and nine pack-animals, heavily
laden. Teague was a sturdy rugged man with bronzed face and keen
gray-blue eyes, very genial and humorous. Straightway I got the
impression that he liked work.

"Let's organize," he said, briskly. "Have you picked the horses you're
goin' to ride?"

Teague led from the midst of that dusty kicking bunch a rangy powerful
horse, with four white feet, a white face and a noble head. He had
escaped my eye. I felt thrillingly that here at least was one horse.

The rest of the horses were permanently crippled or temporarily lame,
and I had no choice, except to take the one it would be kindest to
ride.

"He ain't much like your Silvermane or Black Star," said Teague,
laughing.