with its crags and rocks. A craggy point comparable to
some of those in the Grand Canyon! We had to study a way to get across
the first deep fissures, and eventually descended far under the crest
and climbed back. It was desperately hard work, for we had so little
time. R.C. was to be at the middle of that ridge and I at the end in an
hour. Like Trojans we worked. Some slippery pine-needle slopes we had to
run across, for light quick steps were the only means of safe travel.
And that was not safe! When we surmounted to the crest we found a jumble
of weathered rocks ready to slide down on either side. Slabs, pyramids,
columns, shale, rocks of all shapes except round, lay toppling along the
heaved ridge. It seemed the whole ridge was ready to thunder down into
the abyss. Half a mile down and out from the rim we felt lost, marooned.
But there was something splendidly thrilling in our conquest of that
narrow upflung edge of mountain. Twice R.C. thought we would have to
abandon further progress, but I found ways to go on. How lonely and wild
out there! No foot save an Indian's had ever trod those gray rocks or
brown mats of pine needles.

Before we reached the dip or saddle where R.C. was to make his stand the
hounds opened up far below. The morning was perfectly still, an unusual
occurrence there along the rim. What wild music! Then Edd's horn pealed
out, ringing melody, a long blast keen and clear, telling us above that
he had started a bear. That made us hurry. We arrived at the head of an
incline leading down to R.C.'s stand. As luck would have it the place
was ideal for a bear, but risky for a hunter. A bear could come four
ways without being seen until he was close enough to kill a man. We
hurried on. At the saddle there was a broad bear trail with several
other trails leading into it. Suddenly R.C. halted me with a warning
finger. "Listen!"

I heard a faint clear rifle shot. Then another, and a fainter yell. We
stood there and counted eleven more shots. Then the bay of the hounds
seemed to grow closer. We had little time to pick and choose stands. I
had yet to reach the end of the ridge--a task requiring seven-league
boots. But I took time to choose the best possible stand for R.C. and
that was one where a bear approaching from only the east along under the
ridge could surprise him. In bad places like this we always tried to
have our minds made up what to do and where to get in case of being
charged by a wounded gri