“Plenty,” said Alex, quietly.
“Grizzlies?”
“Very likely, when we get a little farther into the mountains. We ought to pick up two or three on this trip—if they don’t pick us up.”
“I’m not worrying about that,” said Rob. “We’re old bear hunters.”
Both the men looked at him and laughed.
“Indeed, we are,” insisted Rob. “We killed a bear, and an awfully big one, all by ourselves up on Kadiak Island. She was bigger than that tent there; and had two little ones besides. Each of them was big as a man, almost. They get awfully big up there in Alaska. I’ll bet you haven’t a one in all these mountains as big as one of those fellows up in our country.”
“Maybe not,” said Alex, still smiling, “but they get pretty near as big as a horse in here, and I want to tell you that one of our old, white-faced grizzlies will give you a hot time enough if you run across him—he’ll come to you without any coaxing.”
“This is fine!” said Rob. “I begin to think we’re going to have a good trip this time.”
“Grub pile!” sang out Moise about this time. A moment later they were all sitting on the ground at the side of the breakfast fire, eating of the fried bacon, bannock, and tea which Moise had prepared.