One winter he was out in the Pink Cliffs with a Mormon named Shoonover, an' they run into a lammin' big grizzly track, fresh an' wet.

They trailed him to a clump of chaparral, an' on goin' clear round it, found no tracks leadin' out.
Shoonover said Schmitt commenced to sweat.

They went back to the place where the trail led in, an' there they were, great big silver tip tracks, bigger'n hoss-tracks, so fresh thet water was oozin' out of 'em.

Schmitt said: 'Zake, you go in und ged him.

I hef took sick right now.'" Happy as we were over the chase of Old Tom, and our prospects for Sounder, Jude and Moze had seen a lion in a tree--we sought our blankets early.