Standing at the opposite edge of the broken trail—not twenty feet from him—was a huge gaunt grizzly.
[CHAPTER XVII.]
THE TALE OF A MULE.
"Jee-hos-o-phat, a grizzly!" yelled Pete, as he gazed at the quarter of a ton of angry bruin, "and we've not got even a bean shooter."
"That's what Maud was scared at," was the ridiculous thought, considering the circumstances, that came into Jack's mind. That Pete had thought the same thing was evidenced the next instant.
"Say, if we'd only paid attention to Maud," he began, "we'd——"
But a sudden interruption cut him short. The big log they had been trying to dislodge was, as has been said, very delicately balanced. Already by placing their hands on it and rocking it testingly they had disturbed its equilibrium. Now Pete, in his agitation, had placed a foot on it. Both feet, in fact, as he jumped backward at the sight of the huge bear.
This was too much for the trunk. With a crash and a roar, and accompanied by a mighty cascade of dust and rocks, it rolled down the steep, shaly bank.