smoked afterward. He was far off, but Edd an' I lammed a
couple after him jest for luck. One of the pups was nippin' his heels.
Think it was Big Foot.... Wal, thet was all of thet. We plumb busted
ourselves gettin' on top of the bench to head off your bar. Only we
hadn't time. Then we worried along around to the top of thet higher
bluff an' there I was so played-out I thought my day had come. We kept
our eyes peeled, an' pretty soon I spied a big brown bar actin' queer in
an open spot across the canyon. Edd seen him too, an' we argued about
what thet bar was doin'. He lay in a small open place at the foot of a
spruce. He wagged his head slow an' he made as if to roll over, an' he
stretched his paws, an' acted shore queer. Edd said: 'Thet bar's
crippled. He's been shot by one of the boys, an' he's tryin' to get up.'
But I shore didn't exactly agree with Edd. So I was for watchin' him
some more. He looked like a sick bar--raisin' his head so slow an'
droppin' it so slow an' sort of twistin' his body. He looked like his
back had been broke an' he was tryin' to get up, but somehow I couldn't
believe thet. Then he lay still an' Edd swore he was dead. Shore I got
almost to believin' thet myself, when he waked up. An' then the old
scoundrel slid around lazy like a torn cat by the fire, and sort of
rolled on his back an' stretched. Next he slapped at himself with his
paws. If he wasn't sick he was shore actin' queer with thet canyon full
of crackin' guns an' bayin' hounds an' yellin' men. I begun to get
suspicious. Shore he must be a dyin' bear. So I said to Edd: 'Let's bast
him a couple just fer luck.' Wal, when we shot up jumped thet sick bar
quicker'n you could wink. An' he piled into the thicket while I was
goin' down after another shell.... It shore was funny. Thet old Jasper
never heard the racket, an' if he heard it he didn't care. He had a bed
in thet sunny spot an' he was foolin' around, playin' with himself like
a kitten. Playin'! An' Edd reckoned he was dyin' an' I come shore near
bein' fooled. The old Jasper! We'll assassinate him fer thet!"

VIII

Five more long arduous days we put in chasing bears under the rim from
Pyle's Canyon to Verde Canyon. In all we started over a dozen bears. But
I was inclined to think that we chased the same bears over and over from
one canyon to another. The boys got a good many long-range shots, which,
however, apparently did no damage. But as for me, the harder and farther
I trampe