At sight of them the animal reared up on his hind quarters, and seemed to be trying to make up his mind whether he ought to attack these queer two-legged creatures, or go on about his own business. Step Hen half raised his gun to his shoulder; but instantly the guide clapped a hand over the lock. There were no convenient trees in which they could take shelter from an enraged grizzly; and Toby Smathers knew too much about these animals to have any wish to find one rushing at them, wild with rage from a wound. "Snap--click!" "Got him that time!" said a delighted voice. Of course it was Davy Jones. He had swung that kodak of his around, calmly focussed on the grizzly as the animal reared himself up to a terrible height, and then pressed the button. And perhaps after all that was the safest kind of "shooting," when it came to a matter of grizzly bears. Even one of this ferocious species would hardly offer any serious objections to having his likeness preserved, for future generations to gaze upon. "Keep still, all on you!" warned the guide, who was holding his own rifle in readiness for instant use, should the bear conclude to charge them. "We ain't lost any Mountain Charleys to-day, as I knows on. Big horns is what we kim out after. Let him take hisself off, if he will, and a good riddance too, I says." Which the enormous beast finally concluded to do. Perhaps he had had his dinner, and was not feeling in a particularly aggressive mood. No matter what the cause, all of the boys heaved sighs of positive relief when he shuffled away, looking back over his shoulder several times. "Just like he wanted half an excuse for getting his mad up," explained Step Hen. "He had a chip on his shoulder, all right. And I guess I'm glad you didn't let me start in on him, Toby. I might a missed knockin' him over for keeps; and then what a nice pickle we'd all been in. Excuse me from tacklin' a moving mountain like that, when trees are as scarce as hens' teeth." "And I'm real glad, too, you didn't fire," admitted Smithy, who had turned somewhat white during the minute of dreadful suspense, while he stared at that monster squatted in their path. "I was ready to back you up; but then what could you expect from a greenhorn? I never wished so much that I'd taken to this sort of thing before, as I did when that fearful beast was looking at me, just as if to say, 'you're the tenderest of the lot, Smithy, and I think I'll choose you, if I have room for any more inside me.'" The other boys laughed at his words; but on the whole they thought Smithy had carried himself rather creditably, all things considered. And each knew, deep down in his secret soul, that his own heart had seemed to stand still; while his blood ran cold, as he stood there, awaiting the decision of the bear. They glanced around rather fearfully for some little time after that; but as nothing was seen again of the mountain terror, they finally concluded that the incident was closed.