The grizzly king : $b a romance of the wildCurwood, James Oliver
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The grizzly king : $b a romance of the wild
Curwood, James Oliver
Grizzly bear -- Fiction; Wilderness areas -- Fiction
"You great big god of a bear!" he whispered, and every fibre in him was
trembling in a wonderful excitement as he found voice for the first time.
"You--you monster with a heart bigger than man!" And then he added, under
his breath, as if not conscious that he was speaking: "If I'd cornered you
like that I'd have killed you! And you! You cornered me, and let me live!"
He rode toward camp, and as he went he knew that this day had given the
final touch to the big change that had been working in him. He had met the
King of the Mountains; he had stood face to face with death, and in the
last moment the four-footed thing he had hunted and maimed had been
merciful. He believed that Bruce would not understand; that Bruce could not
understand; but unto himself the day and the hour had brought its meaning
in a way that he would not forget so long as he lived, and he knew that
hereafter and for all time he would not again hunt the life of Thor, or the
lives of any of his kind.
Langdon reached the camp and prepared himself some dinner, and as he ate
this, with Muskwa for company, he made new plans for the days and weeks
that were to follow. He would send Bruce back to overtake Metoosin the next
day, and they would no longer hunt the big grizzly. They would go on to the
Skeena and possibly even up to the edge of the Yukon, and then swing
eastward into the caribou country some time early in September, hitting
back toward civilization on the prairie side of the Rockies. He would take
Muskwa with them. Back in the land of men and cities they would be great
friends. It did not occur to him just then what this would mean for Muskwa.
It was two o'clock, and he was still dreaming of new and unknown trails
into the North when a sound came to rouse and disturb him. For a few
minutes he paid no attention to it, for it seemed to be only a part of the
droning murmur of the valley. But slowly and steadily it rose above this,
and at last he got up from where he was lying with his back to a tree and
walked out from the timber, where he could hear more plainly.
Muskwa followed him, and when Langdon stopped the tan-faced cub also
stopped. His little ears shot out inquisitively. He turned his head to the
north. From that direction the sound was coming.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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