scared lynx,
turned and hit the ground running.

Behind him he heard a short, coughing roar, and it nearly doubled the
stretch of his stride. He made the length of the bunkhouse, turned it
and grabbed for his rifle. But his fingers merely brushed the barrel and
knocked it down. There was no time to pick it up. He doubled the next
corner like a rabbit and after him came the grizzly, with most infernal
persistence.

For a short distance a grizzly is as fast as a good pony, and all that
had saved Angus was dodging around corners. But that could not go on
indefinitely. The walls of the roofless bunkhouse were of logs, closely
mortised, but inside he knew there were the remains of some old,
double-decked bunks. It was taking a chance, but he ducked through the
door opening, scrambled up on the bunks, the old poles crashing beneath
him, and straddled the top log just in time to escape the swipe of a
steel-garnished paw which actually brushed his leg.

From this strategic position, rather out of breath and somewhat shaky,
he looked down at the grizzly, and the bear looked up at him, rumbling
and grumbling to himself, his wicked, little eyes burning with unholy
lights. He was a big bear, shaggy and rough, with a sprinkle of gray in
his mane, and there was no doubt that he was annoyed. As a beginning he
knocked a bunk to pieces with one lift and bat of a paw, and rearing he
reached for Angus. Luckily the wall was high, and the big claws raked
bark and slivers below him. Not being able to reach his enemy, the bear
dropped back with a grunt, and stood swinging to and fro gently.

It occurred to Angus that he might drop over the wall, get his rifle and
call for a show-down, but as he waited to get back some of his breath
and steadiness, meanwhile hitching along the wall to get closer to the
gun, the bear shambled through the door. He trotted around the
bunkhouse, and coming to the rifle sniffed at it and took a wide circle.
Perhaps he knew the smell of steel, and suspected a trap. But after
prowling up and down for a few minutes eying the treed man, he did not
go away, which was quite contrary to what Angus had heard of the habits
of bears under similar circumstances. He lay down like a dog, apparently
prepared to camp there indefinitely.

From where Angus sat he could see Chief, standing hip-shot and half
asleep, quite unconscious of the bear, and he was glad that the latter
was equally unconscious of the horse, for he seeme