. The three burros were in camp, two wearing empty pack-saddles,
and Noddle, for once not asleep, was eating from Mescal's hand.

"Mescal, hadn't I better take Black Bolly home?" asked August.

"Mayn't I keep her?"

"She's yours. But you run a risk. There are wild horses on the range.
Will you keep her hobbled?"

"Yes," replied Mescal, reluctantly. "Though I don't believe Bolly would
run off from me."

"Look out she doesn't go, hobbles and all. Jack, here's the other bit of
news I have for you. There's a big grizzly camping on the trail of our
sheep. Now what I want to know is--shall I leave him to you, or put off
work and come up here to wait for him myself?"

"Why--" said Jack, slowly, "whatever you say. If you think you can
safely leave him to me--I'm willing."

"A grizzly won't be pleasant to face. I never knew one of those
sheep-killers that wouldn't run at a man, if wounded."

"Tell me what to do."

"If he comes down it's more than likely to be after dark. Don't risk
hunting him then. Wait till morning, and put Wolf on his trail. He'll be
up in the rocks, and by holding in the dog you may find him asleep in a
cave. However, if you happen to meet him by day do this. Don't waste any
shots. Climb a ledge or tree if one be handy. If not, stand your ground.
Get down on your knee and shoot and let him come. Mind you, he'll grunt
when he's hit, and start for you, and keep coming till he's dead. Have
confidence in yourself and your gun, for you can kill him. Aim low, and
shoot steady. If he keeps on coming there's always a fatal shot, and
that is when he rises. You'll see a bare spot on his breast. Put a
forty-four into that, and he'll go down."

August had spoken so easily, quite as if he were explaining how to shear
a yearling sheep, that Jack's feelings fluctuated between amazement and
laughter. Verily this desert man was stripped of all the false fears of
civilization.

"Now, Jack, I'm off. Good-bye and good luck. Mescal, look out for
him.... So-ho! Noddle! Getup! Biscuit!" And with many a cheery word and
slap he urged the burros into the forest, where they and his tall form
soon disappeared among the trees.

Piute came stooping toward camp so burdened with coyotes that he could
scarcely be seen under the gray pile. With a fervent "damn" he tumbled
them under a cedar, and trotted back into the forest for another load.
Jack insisted on assuming his share of the duties about camp; and Mescal
assigned him