After an hour or two they began to yawn and stretch themselves, except
little Fuzz, the smallest; she poked out her sharp nose for a moment,
then snuggled back between her Mother's great arms, for she was a
gentle, petted little thing. The largest, the one afterward known as
Wahb, sprawled over on his back and began to worry a root that stuck up,
grumbling to himself as he chewed it, or slapped it with his paw for not
staying where he wanted it. Presently Mooney, the mischief, began
tugging at Frizzle's ears, and got his own well boxed. They clenched for
a tussle; then, locked in a tight, little grizzly yellow ball, they
sprawled over and over on the grass, and, before they knew it, down a
bank, and away out of sight toward the river.

[Illustration: ]

Almost immediately there was an outcry of yells for help from the little
wrestlers. There could be no mistaking the real terror in their voices.
Some dreadful danger was threatening.

[Illustration: ]

Up jumped the gentle Mother, changed into a perfect demon, and over the
bank in time to see a huge Range-bull make a deadly charge at what he
doubtless took for a yellow dog. In a moment all would have been over
with Frizzle, for he had missed his footing on the bank; but there was a
thumping of heavy feet, a roar that startled even the great Bull, and,
like a huge bounding ball of yellow fur, Mother Grizzly was upon him.
Him! the monarch of the herd, the master of all these plains, what had
he to fear? He bellowed his deep war-cry, and charged to pin the old one
to the bank; but as he bent to tear her with his shining horns, she