He rose and shouldered his pack and began to search for the tracks of his enemy. He soon discovered those of the bear which had fled before him that morning.
"S-see here, Strong," he muttered, "th-this won't scurcely do. I arrest you, S. Strong, Esquire. Y-you're my prisoner. T-tryin' t' kill a man—you b-bloodthirsty devil! C-come with me. We'll hunt fer b-bears."
The Emperor had often addressed himself with severe and even copious condemnation, but this was the first time that he had ever taken S. Strong by the coat-collar and violently faced him about.
He could see clearly where the bear had broken through the wet briers on his way down to the flat country. It was a moment of peril, and he gave himself no time for argument. He hurried away in the trail of the bear. It lay before him, unmistakable as the wake of a boat, and would show where the animal was wont to cross the water below. He came soon to a great log lying from shore to shore of that inlet of Rainbow which was called Bushrod Creek. He could see tracks near the end of the log, and there, with a spruce pole for a lever, he set his traps in the sand so that, if the first were not sprung, the second would be sure to take hold. He covered the great, yawning, seven-toothed jaws of steel and fastened heavy clogs upon both trap chains. Then he took the piece of bacon from his pack and hung it on a branch above the traps.
Shrewdly the hunter had made his plan.
That bear would probably return to the dead buck, and the scent of the bacon would attract him to that particular crossing.
He tore two pages from his memorandum-book, and wrote this warning on each:
STOP TRAPS AHED
S. STRONG.
He fastened them to stakes and posted them on two sides of the point of danger.