"Yes," replied their host.
"Tell us about it," begged Bob.
"Oh, there isn't very much to tell," rejoined Mr. Claxton. "I came on him one morning just when he had pulled down one of my calves and was making his dinner of it. I opened up on him with my rifle and was lucky enough to get him before he got me."
The boys looked at him with awe and envy. Here was a man who had done things. He had had a fight with a grizzly and brought the grizzly down. From that moment their quiet host rose many degrees in their estimation.
"Are there really grizzlies around these parts?" asked Sammy, hopefully.
Mr. Claxton shook his head.
"Not now," he replied. "There used to be up to ten years ago. It's just about that long since I got this fellow. But they keep moving further and further west as the settlers keep coming in, and now I don't think there are any within a hundred miles of here."
Sammy's face showed his disappointment, and Mr. Claxton smiled.
"You needn't feel bad about it," he said. "Take it from me, the best place to see a grizzly bear is behind the bars of a cage in a menagerie or in the Zoo."
"How about wolves?" asked George. "Do they trouble you much out here?"