“You don’t want his fat to make bear’s grease for your hair, do you?”
“Of course not.”
“Then I’d leave him alone. We’ve plenty of ammunition now, but we don’t want to waste any.”
“But suppose he had been a grizzly?” said Chris, bringing the glass to bear on the distant animal.
“If it had been a grizzly I should say the best thing would be to let him alone, and the same with a cinnamon, for they’re very dangerous beasts. If either of them came smelling after the mules or ponies of course it would be a different thing. There wouldn’t be room enough for him and us too on the same mountain side. Well! he’s gone, hasn’t he?”
“Yes, right up amongst the fir-trees.”
“Ah, he’ll be much safer there,” said Griggs. “You fellows would be tempted to have a shot at him if he came within reach. Now then, lend me the glass.”
The binocular was handed to him, and while the two lads stood watching the woodland patch where the bear had disappeared, in expectation of its coming into sight again, the American stood sweeping the horizon and then bringing the glass to bear upon the wondrous view in every direction where he could bring mountain, valley, hill, and plain into the field of the glass.
He had turned slowly till he was gazing in the direction from which they had come, leaving what looked like a band of deep green, to bring the glass to bear upon the pale ash-coloured desert part, which rapidly brightened into silvery grey, and from that became like the sea, half-hidden by a soft haze which died away into the sky-line.
Quite ten minutes must have passed away, the boys having been too much occupied with the bear to heed their companion, when Ned said in a disappointed tone—