.
Pedro's barking saved me--my life, I think. Oh! that was awful! Then the
bear went up--there.... And you came."

"Bo's followin' the hound!" ejaculated Dale. And, lifting his hands to
his mouth, he sent out a stentorian yell that rolled up the slope, rang
against the cliffs, pealed and broke and died away. Then he waited,
listening. From far up the slope came a faint, wild cry, high-pitched
and sweet, to create strange echoes, floating away to die in the
ravines.

"She's after him!" declared Dale, grimly.

"Bo's got your rifle," said Helen. "Oh, we must hurry."

"You go back," ordered Dale, wheeling his horse.

"No!" Helen felt that word leave her lips with the force of a bullet.

Dale spurred Ranger and took to the open slope. Helen kept at his heels
until timber was reached. Here a steep trail led up. Dale dismounted.

"Horse tracks--bear tracks--dog tracks," he said, bending over. "We'll
have to walk up here. It'll save our horses an' maybe time, too."

"Is Bo riding up there?" asked Helen, eying the steep ascent.

"She sure is." With that Dale started up, leading his horse. Helen
followed. It was rough and hard work. She was lightly clad, yet soon she
was hot, laboring, and her heart began to hurt. When Dale halted to
rest Helen was just ready to drop. The baying of the hound, though
infrequent, inspirited her. But presently that sound was lost. Dale said
bear and hound had gone over the ridge and as soon as the top was gained
he would hear them again.

"Look there," he said, presently, pointing to fresh tracks, larger than
those made by Bo's mustang. "Elk tracks. We've scared a big bull an'
he's right ahead of us. Look sharp an' you'll see him."

Helen never climbed so hard and fast before, and when they reached the
ridge-top she was all tuckered out. It was all she could do to get on
her horse. Dale led along the crest of this wooded ridge toward the
western end, which was considerably higher. In places open rocky ground
split the green timber. Dale pointed toward a promontory.

Helen saw a splendid elk silhouetted against the sky. He was a light
gray over all his hindquarters, with shoulders and head black. His
ponderous, wide-spread antlers towered over him, adding to the wildness
of his magnificent poise as he stood there, looking down into the
valley, no doubt listening for the bay of the hound. When he heard
Dale's horse he gave one bound, gracefully and wonderfully carrying his
antlers, to di