“I’ll promise.”
Little more was said, and Dave bustled around to prepare breakfast, which consisted principally of crackers and coffee and what was left of some jam in the bottom of a jar. The meal over, they placed all the traps in a hollow and over them put some brush and several heavy stones. Then they set off, each with his rifle in hand, on the track of the bear.
“It may prove a bootless chase,” said Washington, as they moved forward. “That bear can readily climb where it will be impossible to follow him.”
“But he has that meat to carry,” answered Dave. “That will hinder him somewhat.”
“True.”
The trail of the bear led around the end of the cliff and then upward, between the mountain forest and a cedar brake. Here the rocks, at certain points, were almost bare, and more than once the footprints were lost.
The sun was now coming out, making the melting snow glisten like diamonds. It promised to be much warmer than formerly and Washington rightly calculated that all the snow would melt before nightfall.
The cedar brake passed, the trail led through the forest, and down into something of a hollow. At one point they saw that the bear had paused, either to rest or to feast upon the stolen meat.
“I am of the opinion that from here on he carried the meat on the inside,” remarked Washington. “It was the easier way.” This was said so soberly that Dave felt compelled to laugh outright.
The bottom of the hollow gained, they followed a dried-up watercourse for quarter of a mile, and then came to a series of rough rocks, with dark hollows between. At once the surveyor called a halt and advised Dave to be cautious.