He is a mighty animal—a terrible animal. He is but little larger than his cousin of the lesser, lower hills; but he makes up for it in the awfulness of his ferocity and in the length and thickness of his shaggy coat. It was his coat that we were after. 

 We came upon him quite unexpectedly. I was trudging in advance along a rocky trail worn smooth by the padded feet of countless ages of wild beasts. At a shoulder of the mountain around which the path ran I came face to face with the Titan. 

 I was going up for a fur coat. He was coming down for breakfast. Each realized that here was the very thing he sought. 

 With a horrid roar the beast charged me. 

 At my right the cliff rose straight upward for thousands of feet. 

 At my left it dropped into a dim, abysmal cañon. 

 In front of me was the bear. 

 Behind me was Perry. 

 I shouted to him in warning, and then I raised my rifle and fired into the broad breast of the creature. There was no time to take aim; the thing was too close upon me. 

 But that my bullet took effect was evident from the howl of rage and pain that broke from the frothing jowls. It didn’t stop him, though. 

 I fired again, and then he was upon me. Down I went beneath his ton of maddened, clawing flesh and bone and sinew. 

 I thought my time had come. I remember feeling sorry for poor old Perry, left all alone in this inhospitable, savage world. 

 And then of a sudden I realized that the bear was gone and that I was quite unharmed. I leaped to my feet, my rifle still clutched in my hand, and looked about for my antagonist. 

 I thought that I should find him farther down the trail, probably finishing Perry, and so I leaped in the direction I supposed him to be, to find Perry perched upon a projecting rock several feet above the trail. My cry of warning had given him time to reach this point of safety. 

 There he squatted, his 

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