on the back of a paper novel told the tale.


It was Wahb done it. I seen him by the spring and wounded him. I tried
to git on the shanty, but he ketched me. My God, how I suffer! JACK. It
was all fair. The man had invaded the Bear's country, had tried to take
the Bear's life, and had lost his own. But Jack's partner swore he would
kill that Bear.

He took up the trail and followed it up the canon, and there bushwhacked
and hunted day after day. He put out baits and traps, and at length one
day he heard a _crash, clatter, thump_, and a huge rock bounded down a
bank into a wood, scaring out a couple of deer that floated away like
thistle-down. Miller thought at first that it was a land-slide; but he
soon knew that it was Wahb that had rolled the boulder over merely for
the sake of two or three ants beneath it.

The wind had not betrayed him, so on peering through the bush Miller
saw the great Bear as he fed, favoring his left hind leg and growling
sullenly to himself at a fresh twinge of pain. Miller steadied himself,
and thought, "Here goes a finisher or a dead miss." He gave a sharp
whistle, the Bear stopped every move, and, as he stood with ears acock,
the man fired at his head.

But at that moment the great shaggy head moved, only an infuriating
scratch was given, the smoke betrayed the man's place, and the Grizzly
made savage, three-legged haste to catch his foe.

Miller dropped his gun and swung lightly into a tree, the only large one
near. Wahb raged in vain against the trunk. He tore off the bark with