It was early fall, and the two brothers had started out from the X Bar X Ranch, with the intention of bagging some small game. Teddy carried a light shotgun, hoping to get a chance at duck. Roy had brought with him a small-bore rifle. Hardly the weapons with which to hunt bear. The boys had picketed their ponies near the foot of the mountain, knowing that the steep grade above made riding impractical. Thus far they had not sighted any game worth considering, but now, when they were near the top, Teddy had come upon the bear tracks. “Do we follow them?” Teddy, the younger, asked dubiously. He glanced down at the gun held in the crook of his arm. “This shotgun I have would only take his picture, Roy, and that pea-shooter of yours isn’t much better. What’s the verdict?” Roy looked at his brother and smiled. “Trying to kid me? After looking for bears in these woods for years, when we raise one, you want to know things! Huh! Don’t ask! Look me straight in the eye, brother mine, and say: What would you rather do, or hunt bear?” “You’re the doctor,” Teddy responded. “You must be getting reckless in your old age, Roy.” This last was to nail any idea that Teddy hesitated to face the adventure. He was slightly chagrined at the fact that Roy had taken the initiative in suggesting that they proceed. Usually it was the other way around, the younger lad proposing, and Roy, with what he was pleased to call his “more mature judgment,” disposing. “Far be it from me to dissuade you from entering the lists against a baby bear,” Teddy went on. “I hope you see him before he sees you. Those animals are easily scared.” “Yes, Teddy, my lad,” Roy said with a maddening grin. “We shall not argue the issue. Come on--let’s go.” Grumbling half-heartedly to himself, Teddy Manley followed the tracks. As he proceeded, the injustice that had been done him was forgotten in the mounting excitement of the chase. The tracks led diagonally across the mountain, and seemed to get fresher with every yard. As the boys came to a clearing, Teddy halted. “Not long since he passed here!” he exclaimed, as he noticed an ant heap that had been disturbed by the animal. “Look--those ants are still half crazy with fright--running around every which way.” It was not by accident that Teddy’s eyes caught this telltale bit of evidence. Born and brought up in the West, these boys could interpret the signs of the forest with unerring judgment. Where another might see merely a broken twig, the young ranchers read a story. “He’s close,” Roy returned laconically. He looked to his rifle. The magazine was full, and he pumped a bullet into the chamber. If they did come upon the bear, by great good luck Roy might succeed in placing a shot through the eye into the brain, which was the only place where the small bullet would be effective. If he missed--well, several things might happen, and not all of them to the bear.