that there was no danger in hunting a grizzly, as you could scare
him away, if you didn't want to have any truck with him, by waving
your hat and yelling: "Git, Ephraim." He said no grizzly would
stand around a minute if you yelled at him. Pa made up his mind he
would yell all right enough, if we came up to a grizzly.

Well, we didn't sleep much that night, 'cause Pa kept practicing
on his yell to scare a grizzly, for fear he would forget the
words, and when they called us in the morning Pa was the poorest
imitation of a man going out to test his bravery that I ever saw.
While the Indians were getting ready to go out to a canyon and
turn the dogs loose to round up a bear, Pa got a big knife and was
sharpening it, so he could rip the bear from Genesis to
Revelations. After breakfast the chief and the Carlisle Indian,
and the big game hunter, and the cowman and I went out about two
miles, to the mouth of the canyon, where it was very narrow, and
they stationed Pa by a big rock, right where the bear would have
to pass; the rest of us got up on a bench of the canyon, where we
could see Pa be brave, and the young Indians went up about a mile,
and started the dogs. Well, Pa was a sight, as he stood there
waiting for the bear, so he could cuff its ears, and rip it open,
right in sight of the chief, and skin it; but he was nervous, and
we could see that his legs trembled when he heard the dogs bark up
the canyon. I yelled to Pa to think of Teddy Roosevelt, and Daniel
Boone, and Buffalo Bill, and set his teeth so they would not
chatter and scare the bear, but Pa yelled back: "Never you mind, I
will kill my bear in my own way, but you can make up your mind to
have bear meat for supper."

Pretty soon the big game hunter said: "There he comes, sure's you