almost human in the way the bear looked at that
trap. He touched it gingerly with his free paw, and nosed it. I crept up
close to the corner of stone and looked around again. The bear was now
close to me. I saw the heavy chain and the log to which it was attached.
He looked at trap and log in a grave, pathetic way, as if trying to
reason about them. Then he roused into furious action, swinging the
trap, dragging the log, and bellowing in such a frightful manner that I
dodged back behind the wall.

But this sudden change in the bear, this appalling roar with its note of
pain, awakened me to his suffering. When the noise stopped and I looked
again, the bear was a sight not to be forgotten. He showed a helpless,
terrible fear of the steel-jawed thing on his foot. He dropped down on
the sand with a groan, and there was a despairing look in his eyes.

This made me forget my fear, and I had only one thought--to put him
out of his misery. When I leveled my rifle it was as steady as the rock
beside me. Aiming just below his ear, I pressed the trigger. The dull
report re-echoed from wall to wall. The bear lurched slightly, and his
head fell upon his outstretched paws. I waited, ready to shoot again
upon the slightest movement, but there was none.

With rifle ready I cautiously approached the bear. As I came close he
seemed larger and larger, but he showed no signs of life. I looked at
the glossy black fur, the flecks of blood on the side of his head where
my bullet had entered, the murderous saw-teeth of the heavy trap biting
to the bone, and the cruelty of that trap seemed to drive from me all
pride of achievement. It was nothing except mercy to kill a trapped
crippled bear that could not run or fight. Then and there I gained a
dislike for trapping animals.

The crack of the old hunter's rifle made me remember that I was to hurry
back up the other canyon, so I began to run. I bounded from stone to
stone, dashed over the sand-bars, jumped the brook, and went down that
canyon perhaps in far greater danger of bodily harm than when I had gone
up.

But when I turned the corner it was another story. The first canyon had
been easy climbing compared to this one. It was narrow, steep, and full
of dead pines fallen from above. Running was impossible. I clambered
upward over the loose stones, under the bridges of pines, round the
boulders. Presently I heard a shout. I could not tell where it came
from, but I replied. A second call I