"I only hope we may set eyes on a grizzly," Charley remarked, slapping the breech of his rifle affectionately, as they stepped on shore. "That's why I chose this feller," he added.
"Better let grizzlys alone. From all I hear they're pretty tough customers," was Walter's cautious comment.
"I don't care. Just you wait till I see one, that's all. I'm all fixed for him—lock, stock, and barrel."
They soon struck into the well-beaten road leading to the Coast Range, and after steadily tramping until dark entered a small settlement where travelers, coming and going over this route, usually put up for the night. A night's lodging was soon arranged for at the only public house that the place could afford, and after eating a hearty supper, and leaving word with the landlord to call them up as soon as it was light in the morning, the two amateur hunters were glad to tumble into bed.
The house was a two-story frame building, with the second-story windows in front opening upon a veranda, after the Southern style of public houses. The air being hot and close in their room, Walter threw up a window the first thing upon going into it. He saw that one might easily step out from the room onto the veranda, or in, for that matter. Then, there was no lock on the door, but as neither he nor Charley was afraid of being robbed, the want of a lock did not prevent their going to sleep as soon as they struck their beds. It is probable that they did not even turn over once during the night.
Walter was awakened by the sound of a gentle scratching, or tapping, at the door. Upon opening his eyes he perceived that it was beginning to be quite light. He listened until the sound was repeated, sat up in bed, and being satisfied that it must be some one calling them to get up, slipped out of bed, yawning and stretching himself, went to the door, half opened it, and, still only half awake, peered out.
What he saw made him start back in affright, and his hair to rise up on his head In an instant.
Standing erect on his hind feet, clumsily beating the air with his forepaws and lolling out a long red tongue, was an enormous, shaggy grizzly bear at least a foot taller than Walter himself.
One look was enough. Giving one yell, Walter made a dash for the open window, leaped out upon the veranda, vaulted over it, and grasping firm hold of the railing, let himself drop down into the street. Imagining that the bear was close behind, he incontinently took to his heels, not even turning to look back over his shoulder to see what had become of Charley.
Startled out of a sound sleep by Walter's cry of alarm, Charley threw off the bedclothes, rubbed his eyes, and, with their aid, saw the bear waddling with rolling gait into the room on all fours. He too made a dash for the window, adopting without hesitation the only route of escape open to him.