y, and neither one offered to touch the other. The bear kept
one eye on Jim and Jim kept both eyes on the bear, and as soon as the
fire had passed Jim crawled out and scooted for camp, leaving the
Grizzly in soak."

"Did you ever see that piebald Pinto of the Piru?" inquired Dad.

"Did I ever see him? Well, I had the d---dest time with him I ever had
in my life except the day I was chased by a spotted mountain lion on
Pine Mountain. I was hunting deer over on the Mutaw when I saw Old
Clubfoot in the brush and fired at him. He turned and rushed towards
me and I had just time enough to get up a tree. The tree was a pinon
about a foot thick and would have been a safe refuge from any other
bear, and I felt all right perched about twenty feet from the ground.
But Old Clubfoot is different from other bears. He's a persistent,
wicked old cuss, and would just as soon sit down at the foot of a tree
and starve a man out as hunt sheep. He came up to the tree, looked it
all over, sized it up, and then stood on his hind legs and took a good
hold of the trunk with his arms. He couldn't quite reach me, and at
first I thought he was going to climb up, which made me laugh, but I
didn't laugh long. The old bear began to shake that tree until it
rocked like a reed in a gale, and I had all I could do to hold on with
arms and legs. It's a fact that he pretty nearly made me seasick. He
shook the tree for about ten minutes, and when he saw that it was a
little too stout and that he couldn't shake me down, he began tearing
the trunk at the base with his teeth and claws. The way he made the
bark and splinters fly was something surprising. He gnawed about half
way through, and there was a wicked glitter in his little green eyes as
he stood up to take another grip on the tree. I saw that he'd shake me
down sure that time, and I got ready to take the last desperate chance
for life. Looking around, I noticed a barranca, or gully, twenty feet
wide about a hundred yards away, and I determined to make for that. If
I could reach the bank, jump across and get to some heavy timber on the
other side, I would be all right. Twenty feet is a big jump and I knew
the bear couldn't make it. It was doubtful if I could, but a man will
do some astonishing things when he's at the head of a procession of
that sort. When the Grizzly began to shake, I took a firm hold on the
big limb with my hands and swung clear of the trunk. He made that tree
s