e man, an' Injun, in these parts half t' death, so most of 'ems
afeared to come back here at all. Men have gone in the park jest to get
this wild man's scalp, but they've done come back scared yaller an' they
ain't opened their trap much about him since nuther. They do say he
spits fire an' chaws his meat offen the bone an' then cracks the bones
like a dog an' swallers it all. They do say, too, that he roars like
forty devils with their tails cut off when he gits mad an' some say as
when he wants t' git som wha' in a hurry he jest grabs aholt o' the feet
o' tha' there thunder bird and she flies off with him and draps him
anywha' he asks her to--Nope, I hain't seen none of these things myself
but others say they has, an' believe me, I'm plumb cautious when
travelin' these parts alone. Howsomever, he hain't yet skeered me 'nough
to make my ha'r come out by the roots," said Pete with a yawn. "There,
kick that back log over so's the fire can lick at t'other side; now
let's turn in."

CHAPTER IV

Big Pete and I spent several weeks in our charming little camp at the
lower end of the park, for my guide decided that despite the recent
presence of the wild hunter, here would be a good place to get a shot at
some black-tail deer. In fact we saw signs of those animals all about
and my guide was only looking for fresh indication to start out on our
last hunt before we made our way deeper into the wilderness.

On the third day of our stay I was returning to camp with my shotgun
over my shoulder and a brace of sage grouse in my hand, when I came upon
Big Pete in a swail about a mile from camp. He was bending low and
examining fresh signs when he saw me.

"Howdy, kid, here's some doin's. Shall we foller him?"

"Of course, Pete; what are we here for, the mountain air?" I answered.

"No," answered Pete, in his deep, low voice, "we're here for game," and
off he started, but slowly and with great caution. I felt impatient, but
restrained myself, saying nothing and continued to follow my big guide
who now moved with the most painstaking care. Not a twig broke beneath
his moccasins as with panther-like step and crouching form he led me
through a lot of young trees over a rocky place until we struck a small
spring with a soft muddy margin. Here Pete came to a sudden halt. I
asked him why he did not go on, and he pointed to a ledge of rock that
ran up the mountain side diagonally with a flat, natural roadbed on top,
graded like