"Did it succeed?" asked Jerry, eager for information along these lines.
"Well," said Mr. Mabie, "the poor chap died,
I'm sorry to say. In another case, the fellow insisted on filling himself up with whiskey. He lived through it, too, which proved the rule, though I believe there are better things to save a man than liquor. But Frank has the right idea. The excitement of the chase will cause him to forget, and take some of the stiffness out of his joints."
"Then we go this afternoon?" queried Reddy anxiously.
"Whenever you're ready," answered Frank.
They set out within half an hour. Of course, the whole four chums insisted on being in the party. Besides, there were the guide, Mr. Mabie and Billy. Each of the cowboys carried his rope, for of late it had seemed as though a lariat might be a very necessary accompaniment to these side hunts.
They headed in a quarter where, as yet, none of the boys had been. This led them directly into the thickets that lay at the base of the mountain barrier, stretching away up against the blue heavens.
None of the chums had forgotten the fierce appearance of the grizzly that had fallen before the rifle which Jerry wielded so cleverly.
"Remember, lads," said Mr. Mabie, as they trailed along through rocky gulches, "every
Mountain Charlie isn't going to keel over as easily as the one Jerry got. He was lucky to send his lead to a vital point. I've seen veteran hunters shoot a bear a dozen times, and then have to finish him with a knife."