The sun had scarcely topped the distant forest skyline when Dick and Toma awakened Sandy, and all three gathered up what they could of the wreckage remaining of their provisions.
In single file they followed the gliding figure of the guide, as he set off on the trail of the grizzly.
“See that track!” Dick exclaimed presently, pointing with his rifle at a spot of soft leaf-mold.
“It’s a bear track, all right,” conceded Sandy, “—and look! There’s blood on that bush.”
“We sure hit him a lot of times—I mean you and Toma,” Dick corrected. He felt disappointed that he had not actually been in on the killing of the bear, since he had had no rifle. But the thrill of trailing a wounded grizzly made him forget.
Toma seemed to follow the trail as if by instinct. Where Sandy and Dick could see no sign whatever, Toma went unerringly forward, always with that gliding, noiseless, pigeon-toed pace, that seemed tireless, though it was kept up with an ease and speed that made Dick and Sandy run.
For a half mile they wound among the trees, beginning to come upon spots where the bear had dropped down to rest. At these points the blood was drying in large clots. Finally, approaching a fallen tree, they came upon the grizzly, stone dead!
Dick and Sandy were about to cheer, yet the actual sight of the bear made them a little sad. The great monarch of the forest never again would proudly tread the forest aisles. Yet the boys felt a certain satisfaction in having won in a battle with such a powerful foe.
Toma immediately began skinning one haunch of the great bear. “Him old and tough,” grunted Toma, “but we cook um long time. That make um tender.”
Dick laughed. “The old boy will make stringy eating.”
“I wish we could take his hide,” Sandy sighed.
“It sure would knock the eyes out of the fellows back home,” Dick said.
“No time to skin,” Toma interrupted. “Hide too heavy carry. Mister Mackenzie say mus’ travel light.”
“Yes, it’s impossible for us to have the old fellow’s hide, but that’s no reason why we can’t have his scalp.” Suiting his action to his words, Dick drew his sharp hunting knife and stooped over the head of the wilderness king. With Sandy’s help they took the old grizzly’s scalp, ears and all, as a trophy.