He began crawling slowly and quietly up the slope toward the rock, while Langdon held his breath in anticipation of what was about to happen. Twice Bruce looked back, and he was grinning broadly. There was undoubtedly going to be a very much astonished bear racing for the tops of the Rocky Mountains in another moment or two, and between this thought and the picture of Bruce's long lank figure snaking its way upward foot by foot the humour of the situation fell upon Langdon. Finally Bruce reached the rock. The long knife-blade gleamed in the sun; then it shot forward and a half inch of steel buried itself in the bear's rump. What followed in the next thirty seconds Langdon would never forget. The bear made no movement. Bruce jabbed again. Still there was no movement, and at the second thrust Bruce remained as motionless as the rock against which he was crouching, and his mouth was wide open as he stared down at Langdon. "Now what the devil do you think of that?" he said, and rose slowly to his feet. "He ain't asleep--he's dead!" Langdon ran up to him, and they went around the end of the rock. Bruce still held the knife in his hand and there was an odd expression in his face--a look that put troubled furrows between his eyes as he stood for a moment without speaking. "I never see anything like that before," he said, slowly slipping his knife in its sheath. "It's a she-bear, an' she had cubs--pretty young cubs, too, from the looks o' her.' "She was after a whistler, and undermined the rock," added Langdon. "Crushed to death, eh, Bruce?" Bruce nodded. "I never see anything like it before," he repeated. "I've wondered why they didn't get killed by diggin' under the rocks--but I never see it. Wonder where the cubs are? Poor little devils!" He was on his knees examining the dead mother's teats. "She didn't have more'n two--mebby one," he said, rising. "About three months old." "And they'll starve?" "If there was only one he probably will. The little cuss had so much milk he didn't have to forage for himself. Cubs is a good deal like babies--you can wean 'em early or you can ha'f grow 'em on pap. An' this is what comes of runnin' off an' leavin' your babies alone," moralized Bruce. "If you ever git married, Jimmy, don't you let yo'r wife do it. Sometimes th' babies burn up or break their necks!" Again he turned along the crest of the slope, his eyes once more searching the valley, and Langdon followed a step behind him, wondering what had become of the cub. And Muskwa, still slumbering on the rock-ledge with Thor, was dreaming of the mother who lay crushed under the rock on the slope, and as he dreamed he whimpered softly. CHAPTER EIGHT