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[Illustration]
THE BIOGRAPHY OF A GRIZZLY
by
ERNEST THOMPSON SETON
Author of
The Trail of the Sandhill Stag
Wild Animals I Have Known
Art Anatomy of Animals
Mammals of Manitoba
Birds of Manitoba
Lives of Game Animals
The Gospel of the Redman
The Buffalo Wind
Published by D. Appleton-Century Company, New York
[Illustration]
Copyright, 1899, 1900, by
The Century Co.
Copyright, 1900, by
Ernest Seton-Thompson.
Copyright Renewed, 1927
by
Ernest Thompson Seton
_All rights reserved. This book, or parts
thereof, must not be reproduced in any
form without permission of the publisher._
_Printed in the U. S. A._
[Illustration]
This book is dedicated to the memory of days spent in Wind River Mountains
and on the Graybull, where from hunter, miner, and personal experience I
gathered many chapters of the History of Wahb.
[Illustration]
THE GRIZZLY
Nearly half a century has gone since I lived among these scenes and made my
observations on the grand Old Bear of the Mountains.
Many new conditions have in that time developed, have changed the course of
history. But the biggest, saddest change of all is that the Grizzly Bear,
the most magnificent, dignified, and powerful beast of the wild, heroic
West, is gone.
There may be a few individuals about Yellowstone Park or other great
havens, but the Grizzly Bear as the wide-wandering monarch of the hills has
gone the way of the Dodo.
It is just possible that in this last and latest time a newborn strong and
growing sentiment will come to the rescue, will prompt us to seek out and
preserve the last remnant, just as long-belated appreciation came at final
stance to save for later generations the Great Sequoia Tree, when man's
blind avarice had all but wiped it out. Good men are now at work with
better thoughts, and reverence for the masterpieces, the giants of
creation's world. It may be that this newer thought may come in force and
save the grand old Bear while yet it curbs his power for harm. This is my
hope and prayer; this is the sentiment unwritten, but expressed, in my
Story of the Grizzly.
ERNEST THOMPSON SETON
LIST OF FULL-PAGE DRAWINGS
PAGE
They all Rushed Under it like a Lot of Little Pigs 14
Like Children Playing "Hands" 18
He Stayed in the Tree till near Morning 32
A Savage Bobcat ... Warned Him to go Back 44
Wahb Yelled and Jerked Back 50
He Struck one Fearful, Crushing Blow 74
Ain't He an Awful Size, Though? 90
Wahb Smashed His Skull 102
Causing the Pool to Overflow 113
He Deliberately Stood up on the Pine Root 142
The Roachback Fled into the Woods 150
He Paused a Moment at the Gate 165
PART I
THE CUBHOOD OF WAHB
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
I
He was born over a score of years ago, away up in the wildest part of the
wild West, on the head of the Little Piney, above where the Palette Ranch
is now.
His Mother was just an ordinary Silvertip, living the quiet life that all
Bears prefer, minding her own business and doing her duty by her family,
asking no favors of any one excepting to let her alone.
It was July before she took her remarkable family down the Little Piney to
the Graybull, and showed them what strawberries were, and where to find
them.
Notwithstanding their Mother's deep conviction, the cubs were not
remarkably big or bright; yet they were a remarkable family, for there were
four of them, and it is not often a Grizzly Mother can boast of more than
two.
[Illustration]
The woolly-coated little creatures were having a fine time, and reveled in
the lovely mountain summer and the abundance of good things. Their Mother
turned over each log and flat stone they came to, and the moment it was
lifted they all rushed under it like a lot of little pigs to lick up the
ants and grubs there hidden.
[Illustration: "THEY ALL RUSHED UNDER IT LIKE A LOT OF LITTLE PIGS."]
It never once occurred to them that Mammy's strength might fail sometime,
and let the great rock drop just as they got under it; nor would any one
have thought so that might have chanced to see that huge arm and that
shoulder sliding about under the great yellow robe she wore. No, no; that
arm could never fail. The little ones were quite right. So they hustled and
tumbled one another at each fresh log in their haste to be first, and
squealed little squeals, and growled little growls, as if each was a pig, a
pup, and a kitten all rolled into one.
They were well acquainted with the common little brown ants that harbor
under logs in the uplands, but now they came for the first time on one of
the hills of the great, fat, luscious Wood-ant, and they all crowded around
to lick up those that ran out. But they soon found that they were licking
up more cactus-prickles and sand than ants, till their Mother said in
Grizzly, "Let me show you how."
She knocked off the top of the hill, then laid her great paw flat on it for
a few moments, and as the angry ants swarmed on to it she licked them up
with one lick, and got a good rich mouthful to crunch without a grain of
sand or a cactus-stinger in it. The cubs soon learned. Each put up both his
little brown paws, so that there was a ring of paws all around the
ant-hill, and there they sat, like children playing "hands," and each
licked first the right and then the left paw, or one cuffed his brother's
ears for licking a paw that was not his own, till the ant-hill was cleared
out and they were ready for a change.
[Illustration: "LIKE CHILDREN PLAYING 'HANDS.'"]
Ants are sour food and made the Bears thirsty, so the old one led down to
the river. After they had drunk as much as they wanted, and dabbled their
feet, they walked down the bank to a pool, where the old one's keen eye
caught sight of a number of Buffalo-fish basking on the bottom. The water
was very low, mere pebbly rapids between these deep holes, so Mammy said to
the little ones:
"Now you all sit there on the bank and learn something new."
[Illustration]
First she went to the lower end of the pool and stirred up a cloud of mud
which hung in the still water, and sent a long tail floating like a curtain
over the rapids just below. Then she went quietly round by land, and sprang
into the upper end of the pool with all the noise she could. The fish had
crowded to that end, but this sudden attack sent them off in a panic, and
they dashed blindly into the mud-cloud. Out of fifty fish there is always a
good chance of some being fools, and half a dozen of these dashed through
the darkened water into the current, and before they knew it they were
struggling over the shingly shallow. The old Grizzly jerked them out to the
bank, and the little ones rushed noisily on these funny, short snakes that
could not get away, and gobbled and gorged till their little bellies looked
like balloons.
They had eaten so much now, and the sun was so hot, that all were quite
sleepy. So the Mother-bear led them to a quiet little nook, and as soon as
she lay down, though they were puffing with heat, they all snuggled around
her and went to sleep, with their little brown paws curled in, and their
little black noses tucked into their wool as though it were a very cold
day.
[Illustration]
After an hour or two they began to yawn and stretch themselves, except
little Fuzz, the smallest; she poked out her sharp nose for a moment, then
snuggled back between her Mother's great arms, for she was a gentle,
petted little thing. The largest, the one afterward known as Wahb, sprawled
over on his back and began to worry a root that stuck up, grumbling to
himself as he chewed it, or slapped it with his paw for not staying where
he wanted it. Presently Mooney, the mischief, began tugging at Frizzle's
ears, and got his own well boxed. They clenched for a tussle; then, locked
in a tight, little grizzly yellow ball, they sprawled over and over on the
grass, and, before they knew it, down a bank, and away out of sight toward
the river.
[Illustration]
Almost immediately there was an outcry of yells for help from the little
wrestlers. There could be no mistaking the real terror in their voices.
Some dreadful danger was threatening.
Up jumped the gentle Mother, changed into a perfect demon, and over the
bank in time to see a huge Range-bull make a deadly charge at what he
doubtless took for a yellow dog. In a moment all would have been over with
Frizzle, for he had missed his footing on the bank; but there was a
thumping of heavy feet, a roar that startled even the great Bull, and, like
a huge bounding ball of yellow fur, Mother Grizzly was upon him. Him! the
monarch of the herd, the master of all these plains, what had he to fear?
He bellowed his deep war-cry, and charged to pin the old one to the bank;
but as he bent to tear her with his shining horns, she dealt him a stunning
blow, and before he could recover she was on his shoulders, raking the
flesh from his ribs with sweep after sweep of her terrific claws.
[Illustration]
The Bull roared with rage, and plunged and reared, dragging Mother Grizzly
with him; then, as he hurled heavily off the slope, she let go to save
herself, and the Bull rolled down into the river.
[Illustration]
This was a lucky thing for him, for the Grizzly did not want to follow him
there; so he waded out on the other side, and bellowing with fury and pain,
slunk off to join the herd to which he belonged.
II
[Illustration]
Old Colonel Pickett, the cattle king, was out riding the range. The night
before, he had seen the new moon descending over the white cone of
Pickett's Peak.
"I saw the last moon over Frank's Peak," said he, "and the luck was against
me for a month; now I reckon it's my turn."
Next morning his luck began. A letter came from Washington granting his
request that a post-office be established at his ranch, and contained the
polite inquiry, "What name do you suggest for the new post-office?"
[Illustration]
The Colonel took down his new rifle, a 45-90 repeater. "May as well," he
said; "this is my month"; and he rode up the Graybull to see how the cattle
were doing.
As he passed under the Rimrock Mountain he heard a far-away roaring as of
Bulls fighting, but thought nothing of it till he rounded the point and saw
on the flat below a lot of his cattle pawing the dust and bellowing as they
always do when they smell the blood of one of their number. He soon saw
that the great Bull, "the boss of the bunch," was covered with blood. His
back and sides were torn as by a Mountain-lion, and his head was battered
as by another Bull.
"Grizzly," growled the Colonel, for he knew the mountains. He quickly noted
the general direction of the Bull's back trail, then rode toward a high
bank that offered a view. This was across the gravelly ford of the
Graybull, near the mouth of the Piney. His horse splashed through the cold
water and began jerkily to climb the other bank.
As soon as the rider's head rose above the bank his hand grabbed the rifle,
for there in full sight were five Grizzly Bears, an old one and four cubs.
"Run for the woods," growled the Mother Grizzly, for she knew that men
carried guns. Not that she feared for herself; but the idea of such things
among her darlings was too horrible to think of. She set off to guide them
to the timber-tangle on the Lower Piney. But an awful, murderous fusillade
began.
[Illustration]
_Bang!_ and Mother Grizzly felt a deadly pang.
_Bang!_ and poor little Fuzz rolled over with a scream of pain and lay
still.
With a roar of hate and fury Mother Grizzly turned to attack the enemy.
_Bang!_ and she fell paralyzed and dying with a high shoulder shot. And
the three little cubs, not knowing what to do, ran back to their Mother.
_Bang! bang!_ and Mooney and Frizzle sank in dying agonies beside her, and
Wahb, terrified and stupefied, ran in a circle about them. Then, hardly
knowing why, he turned and dashed into the timber-tangle, and disappeared
as a last _bang_ left him with a stinging pain and a useless, broken hind
paw.
* * * * *
That is why the post-office was called Four-Bears. The Colonel seemed
pleased with what he had done; indeed, he told of it himself.
[Illustration]
But away up in the woods of Anderson's Peak that night a little lame
Grizzly might have been seen wandering, limping along, leaving a bloody
spot each time he tried to set down his hind paw; whining and whimpering,
"Mother! Mother! Oh, Mother, where are you?" for he was cold and hungry,
and had such a pain in his foot. But there was no Mother to come to him,
and he dared not go back where he had left her, so he wandered aimlessly
about among the pines.
[Illustration]
Then he smelled some strange animal smell and heard heavy footsteps; and
not knowing what else to do, he climbed a tree. Presently a band of great,
long-necked, slim-legged animals, taller than his Mother, came by under the
tree. He had seen such once before and had not been afraid of them then,
because he had been with his Mother. But now he kept very quiet in the
tree, and the big creatures stopped picking the grass when they were near
him, and blowing their noses, ran out of sight.
[Illustration]
He stayed in the tree till near morning, and then he was so stiff with cold
that he could scarcely get down. But the warm sun came up, and he felt
better as he sought about for berries and ants, for he was very hungry.
Then he went back to the Piney and put his wounded foot in the ice-cold
water.
[Illustration: "HE STAYED IN THE TREE TILL NEAR MORNING."]
He wanted to get back to the mountains again, but still he felt he must go
to where he had left his Mother and brothers. When the afternoon grew
warm, he went limping down the stream through the timber, and down on the
banks of the Graybull till he came to the place where yesterday they had
had the fish-feast; and he eagerly crunched the heads and remains that he
found. But there was an odd and horrid smell on the wind. It frightened
him, and as he went down to where he last had seen his Mother the smell
grew worse. He peeped out cautiously at the place, and saw there a lot of
Coyotes, tearing at something. What it was he did not know; but he saw no
Mother, and the smell that sickened and terrified him was worse than ever,
so he quietly turned back toward the timber-tangle of the Lower Piney, and
nevermore came back to look for his lost family. He wanted his Mother as
much as ever, but something told him it was no use.
As cold night came down, he missed her more and more again, and he
whimpered as he limped along, a miserable, lonely, little, motherless
Bear--not lost in the mountains, for he had no home to seek, but so sick
and lonely, and with such a pain in his foot and in his stomach a craving
for the drink that would nevermore be his. That night he found a hollow
log, and crawling in, he tried to dream that his Mother's great, furry arms
were around him, and he snuffled himself to sleep.
[Illustration]
III
Wahb had always been a gloomy little Bear; and the string of misfortunes
that came on him just as his mind was forming made him more than ever
sullen and morose.
It seemed as though every one were against him. He tried to keep out of
sight in the upper woods of the Piney, seeking his food by day and resting
at night in the hollow log. But one evening he found it occupied by a
Porcupine as big as himself and as bad as a cactus-bush. Wahb could do
nothing with him. He had to give up the log and seek another nest.
[Illustration]
One day he went down on the Graybull flat to dig some roots that his Mother
had taught him were good. But before he had well begun, a grayish-looking
animal came out of a hole in the ground and rushed at him, hissing and
growling. Wahb did not know it was a Badger, but he saw it was a fierce
animal as big as himself. He was sick, and lame too, so he limped away and
never stopped till he was on a ridge in the next canyon. Here a Coyote saw
him, and came bounding after him, calling at the same time to another to
come and join the fun. Wahb was near a tree, so he scrambled up to the
branches. The Coyotes came bounding and yelping below, but their noses told
them that this was a young Grizzly they had chased, and they soon decided
that a young Grizzly in a tree means a Mother Grizzly not far away, and
they had better let him alone.
[Illustration]
After they had sneaked off Wahb came down and returned to the Piney. There
was better feeding on the Graybull, but every one seemed against him there
now that his loving guardian was gone, while on the Piney he had peace at
least sometimes, and there were plenty of trees that he could climb when an
enemy came.
His broken foot was a long time in healing; indeed, it never got quite
well. The wound healed and the soreness wore off, but it left a stiffness
that gave him a slight limp, and the sole-balls grew together quite unlike
those of the other foot. It particularly annoyed him when he had to climb a
tree or run fast from his enemies; and of them he found no end, though
never once did a friend cross his path. When he lost his Mother he lost his
best and only friend. She would have taught him much that he had to learn
by bitter experience, and would have saved him from most of the ills that
befell him in his cubhood--ills so many and so dire that but for his native
sturdiness he never could have passed through alive.
[Illustration]
The pinons bore plentifully that year, and the winds began to shower down
the ripe, rich nuts. Life was becoming a little easier for Wahb. He was
gaining in health and strength, and the creatures he daily met now let him
alone. But as he feasted on the pinons one morning after a gale, a great
Blackbear came marching down the hill. "No one meets a friend in the
woods," was a byword that Wahb had learned already. He swung up the nearest
tree. At first the Blackbear was scared, for he smelled the smell of
Grizzly; but when he saw it was only a cub, he took courage and came
growling at Wahb. He could climb as well as the little Grizzly, or better,
and high as Wahb went, the Blackbear followed, and when Wahb got out on
the smallest and highest twig that would carry him, the Blackbear cruelly
shook him off, so that he was thrown to the ground, bruised and shaken and
half-stunned. He limped away moaning, and the only thing that kept the
Blackbear from following him up and perhaps killing him was the fear that
the old Grizzly might be about. So Wahb was driven away down the creek from
all the good pinon woods.
There was not much food on the Graybull now. The berries were nearly all
gone; there were no fish or ants to get, and Wahb, hurt, lonely, and
miserable, wandered on and on, till he was away down toward the Meteetsee.
[Illustration]
A Coyote came bounding and barking through the sage-brush after him. Wahb
tried to run, but it was no use; the Coyote was soon up with him. Then with
a sudden rush of desperate courage Wahb turned and charged his foe. The
astonished Coyote gave a scared yowl or two, and fled with his tail between
his legs. Thus Wahb learned that war is the price of peace.
But the forage was poor here; there were too many cattle; and Wahb was
making for a far-away pinon woods in the Meteetsee Canyon when he saw a man,
just like the one he had seen on that day of sorrow. At the same moment he
heard a _bang_, and some sage-brush rattled and fell just over his back.
All the dreadful smells and dangers of that day came back to his memory,
and Wahb ran as he never had run before.
He soon got into a gully and followed it into the canyon. An opening between
two cliffs seemed to offer shelter, but as he ran toward it a Range-cow
came trotting between, shaking her head at him and snorting threats against
his life.
He leaped aside upon a long log that led up a bank, but at once a savage
Bobcat appeared on the other end and warned him to go back. It was no time
to quarrel. Bitterly Wahb felt that the world was full of enemies. But he
turned and scrambled up a rocky bank into the pinon woods that border the
benches of the Meteetsee.
[Illustration: "A SAVAGE BOBCAT ... WARNED HIM TO GO BACK."]
The Pine Squirrels seemed to resent his coming, and barked furiously. They
were thinking about their pinon-nuts. They knew that this Bear was coming
to steal their provisions, and they followed him overhead to scold and
abuse him, with such an outcry that an enemy might have followed him by
their noise, which was exactly what they intended.
There was no one following, but it made Wahb uneasy and nervous. So he kept
on till he reached the timber line, where both food and foes were scarce,
and here on the edge of the Mountain-sheep land at last he got a chance to
rest.
[Illustration]
IV
Wahb never was sweet-tempered like his baby sister, and the persecutions by
his numerous foes were making him more and more sour. Why could not they
let him alone in his misery? Why was every one against him? If only he had
his Mother back! If he could only have killed that Blackbear that had
driven him from his woods! It did not occur to him that some day he himself
would be big. And that spiteful Bobcat, that took advantage of him; and
the man that had tried to kill him. He did not forget any of them, and he
hated them all.
Wahb found his new range fairly good, because it was a good nut year. He
learned just what the Squirrels feared he would, for his nose directed him
to the little granaries where they had stored up great quantities of nuts
for winter's use. It was hard on the Squirrels, but it was good luck for
Wahb, for the nuts were delicious food. And when the days shortened and the
nights began to be frosty, he had grown fat and well-favored.
He traveled over all parts of the canyon now, living mostly in the higher
woods, but coming down at times to forage almost as far as the river. One
night as he wandered by the deep water a peculiar smell reached his nose.
It was quite pleasant, so he followed it up to the water's edge. It seemed
to come from a sunken log. As he reached over toward this, there was a
sudden _clank_, and one of his paws was caught in a strong, steel
Beaver-trap.
[Illustration: "WAHB YELLED AND JERKED BACK."]
Wahb yelled and jerked back with all his strength, and tore up the stake
that held the trap. He tried to shake it off, then ran away through the
bushes trailing it. He tore at it with his teeth; but there it hung, quiet,
cold, strong, and immovable. Every little while he tore at it with his
teeth and claws, or beat it against the ground. He buried it in the earth,
then climbed a low tree, hoping to leave it behind; but still it clung,
biting into his flesh. He made for his own woods, and sat down to try to
puzzle it out. He did not know what it was, but his little green-brown eyes
glared with a mixture of pain, fright, and fury as he tried to understand
his new enemy.
[Illustration]
He lay down under the bushes, and, intent on deliberately crushing the
thing, he held it down with one paw while he tightened his teeth on the
other end, and bearing down as it slid away, the trap jaws opened and the
foot was free. It was mere chance, of course, that led him to squeeze both
springs at once. He did not understand it, but he did not forget it, and he
got these not very clear ideas: "There is a dreadful little enemy that
hides by the water and waits for one. It has an odd smell. It bites one's
paws and is too hard for one to bite. But it can be got off by hard
squeezing."
For a week or more the little Grizzly had another sore paw, but it was not
very bad if he did not do any climbing.
[Illustration]
It was now the season when the Elk were bugling on the mountains. Wahb
heard them all night, and once or twice had to climb to get away from one
of the big-antlered Bulls. It was also the season when the trappers were
coming into the mountains, and the Wild Geese were honking overhead. There
were several quite new smells in the woods, too. Wahb followed one of these
up, and it led to a place where were some small logs piled together; then,
mixed with the smell that had drawn him, was one that he hated--he
remembered it from the time when he had lost his Mother. He sniffed about
carefully, for it was not very strong, and learned that this hateful smell
was on a log in front, and the sweet smell that made his mouth water was
under some brush behind. So he went around, pulled away the brush till he
got the prize, a piece of meat, and as he grabbed it, the log in front went
down with a heavy _chock_.
It made Wahb jump; but he got away all right with the meat and some new
ideas, and with one old idea made stronger, and that was, "When that
hateful smell is around it always means trouble."
[Illustration]
As the weather grew colder, Wahb became very sleepy; he slept all day when
it was frosty. He had not any fixed place to sleep in; he knew a number of
dry ledges for sunny weather, and one or two sheltered nooks for stormy
days. He had a very comfortable nest under a root, and one day, as it began
to blow and snow, he crawled into this and curled up to sleep. The storm
howled without. The snow fell deeper and deeper. It draped the pine-trees
till they bowed, then shook themselves clear to be draped anew. It drifted
over the mountains and poured down the funnel-like ravines, blowing off the
peaks and ridges, and filling up the hollows level with their rims. It
piled up over Wahb's den, shutting out the cold of the winter, shutting out
itself: and Wahb slept and slept.
[Illustration]
V
He slept all winter without waking, for such is the way of Bears, and yet
when spring came and aroused him, he knew that he had been asleep a long
time. He was not much changed--he had grown in height, and yet was but
little thinner. He was now very hungry, and forcing his way through the
deep drift that still lay over his den, he set out to look for food.
There were no pinon-nuts to get, and no berries or ants; but Wahb's nose
led him away up the canyon to the body of a winter-killed Elk, where he had
a fine feast, and then buried the rest for future use.
[Illustration]
Day after day he came back till he had finished it. Food was very scarce
for a couple of months, and after the Elk was eaten, Wahb lost all the fat
he had when he awoke. One day he climbed over the Divide into the Warhouse
Valley. It was warm and sunny there, vegetation was well advanced, and he
found good forage. He wandered down toward the thick timber, and soon
smelled the smell of another Grizzly. This grew stronger and led him to a
single tree by a Bear-trail. Wahb reared up on his hind feet to smell this
tree. It was strong of Bear, and was plastered with mud and Grizzly hair
far higher than he could reach; and Wahb knew that it must have been a very
large Bear that had rubbed himself there. He felt uneasy. He used to long
to meet one of his own kind, yet now that there was a chance of it he was
filled with dread.
No one had shown him anything but hatred in his lonely, unprotected life,
and he could not tell what this older Bear might do. As he stood in doubt,
he caught sight of the old Grizzly himself slouching along a hillside,
stopping from time to time to dig up the quamash-roots and wild turnips.
He was a monster. Wahb instinctively distrusted him, and sneaked away
through the woods and up a rocky bluff where he could watch.
Then the big fellow came on Wahb's track and rumbled a deep growl of anger;
he followed the trail to the tree, and rearing up, he tore the bark with
his claws, far above where Wahb had reached. Then he strode rapidly along
Wahb's trail. But the cub had seen enough. He fled back over the Divide
into the Meteetsee Canyon, and realized in his dim, bearish way that he was
at peace there because the Bear-forage was so poor.
As the summer came on, his coat was shed. His skin got very itchy, and he
found pleasure in rolling in the mud and scraping his back against some
convenient tree. He never climbed now: his claws were too long, and his
arms, though growing big and strong, were losing that suppleness of wrist
that makes cub Grizzlies and all Blackbears great climbers. He now dropped
naturally into the Bear habit of seeing how high he could reach with his
nose on the rubbing-post, whenever he was near one.
He may not have noticed it, yet each time he came to a post, after a week
or two away, he could reach higher, for Wahb was growing fast and coming
into his strength.
[Illustration]
Sometimes he was at one end of the country that he felt was his, and
sometimes at another, but he had frequent use for the rubbing-tree, and
thus it was that his range was mapped out by posts with his own mark on
them.
One day late in summer he sighted a stranger on his land, a glossy
Blackbear, and he felt furious against the interloper. As the Blackbear
came nearer Wahb noticed the tan-red face, the white spot on his breast,
and then the bit out of his ear, and last of all the wind brought a whiff.
There could be no further doubt it was the very smell: this was the black
coward that had chased him down the Piney long ago. But how he had
shrunken! Before, he had looked like a giant; now Wahb felt he could crush
him with one paw. Revenge is sweet, Wahb felt, though he did not exactly
say it, and he went for that red-nosed Bear. But the Black one went up a
small tree like a Squirrel. Wahb tried to follow as the other once followed
him, but somehow he could not. He did not seem to know how to take hold
now, and after a while he gave it up and went away, although the Blackbear
brought him back more than once by coughing in derision. Later on that day,
when the Grizzly passed again, the red-nosed one had gone.
[Illustration]
As the summer waned, the upper forage-grounds began to give out, and Wahb
ventured down to the Lower Meteetsee one night to explore. There was a
pleasant odor on the breeze, and following it up, Wahb came to the carcass
of a Steer. A good distance away from it were some tiny Coyotes, mere
dwarfs compared with those he remembered. Right by the carcass was another
that jumped about in the moonlight in a foolish way. For some strange
reason it seemed unable to get away. Wahb's old hatred broke out. He rushed
up. In a flash the Coyote bit him several times before, with one blow of
that great paw, Wahb smashed him into a limp, furry rag; then broke in all
his ribs with a crunch or two of his jaws. Oh, but it was good to feel the
hot, bloody juices oozing between his teeth!
[Illustration]
The Coyote was caught in a trap. Wahb hated the smell of the iron, so he
went to the other side of the carcass, where it was not so strong, and had
eaten but little before _clank_, and his foot was caught in a Wolf-trap
that he had not seen.
[Illustration]
But he remembered that he had once before been caught and had escaped by
squeezing the trap. He set a hind foot on each spring and pressed till the
trap opened and released his paw. About the carcass was the smell that he
knew stood for man, so he left it and wandered down-stream; but more and
more often he got whiffs of that horrible odor, so he turned and went back
to his quiet pinon benches.