aid but still game I would have respected him, but he was a
coward and mean. He wanted to have his way, which was to go the other
direction, and to rid himself of me. So we had it hot and heavy
along that rough slope, with honors about even. As for bruises and
scratches, however, I sustained the most. In the excitement of the
chase and anger at the horse I forgot all about any risks. This always
is the way in adventure. Hot racing blood governed me entirely.
Whenever I got out in an open place, where I could ride fast and hear
and see, then it was all intensely thrilling. Both hounds and comrades
were above me, but apparently working down.

Thus for me the necessity of hurry somewhat lessened. I slowed to a
trot, peering everywhere, listening with all my ears. I had stopped
yelling, because my horse had misunderstood that. We got into a
region of oak thickets, small saplings, scrubby, close together, but
beautiful with their autumn-tinted leaves. Next I rode through a maple
dell, shady, cool, where the leafy floor was all rose-pink-red. My
horse sent the colored leaves flying.

Soon, however, we got into the thickets again, low live-oak and
manzanita, which kind of brush my horse detested. I did not blame
him for that. As the hounds began to work down my keen excitement
increased. If they had jumped the bear and were chasing him down I
might run upon him any moment. This both appealed to me and caused me
apprehension. Suppose he were a bad cinnamon or a grizzly? What would
become of me on that horse? I decided that I had better carry my rifle
in my hand, so in case of a sudden appearance of the bear and I was
thrown or had a fall off, then I would be prepared. So forthwith I
drew the rifle out of the scabbard, remembering as I did so that
Haught had cautioned me, in case of close quarters with a bear and the
need of quick shooting, to jerk the lever down hard. If my horse had
cut up abominably before he now began to cover himself with a glory
of abominableness. I had to jam him through the thickets. He was an
uncomfortable horse to ride under the best circumstances; here he
was as bad as riding a picket-fence. When he got his head, which was
often, he carried me into thickets of manzanita that we could not
penetrate, and had to turn back. I found that I was working high
up the slope, and bad luck as I was having with my horse, I still
appeared to keep fairly close to the hounds.

When we topped a ridge of this slope