Bob remounted his mare, with the skin strapped behind the cantle, like a military valise; and we continued on our way. "That was a quick shot, Bob."--"Yes, 2 1/2 dollars, or 2 dollars at least I'll get for that skin; you see there's no game that pays us like the black-tail, and I never let one go if I can help it; they're easy to shoot, easy to skin, easy to dry, and easy to sell at a good price, and more than that, they're handy to pack upon a mule." That little incident having passed, we again relapsed into silence, and rode slowly forward, with a wide-awake look-out on every side. We had ridden about a mile, when the fresh tracks of bears that had crossed our route caused a sudden halt, and we immediately dismounted to examine them. They were of average size, and there could be no doubt, from the short stride of each pace, that they were retiring leisurely, after a night's ramble, to the beds in which they usually laid up. We led our horses to a small glade of good grass that was not far distant, and left them in the usual manner. We now commenced tracking, which was simple enough, as the heavy footprints were distinct, and the bears had been travelling tolerably straight towards home. At length, after nearly a mile of this easy work, we arrived at a portion of the forest where some hurricane must in former years have levelled several hundred acres. The trees were lying about in confused heaps, piled in many places one upon the other, in the greatest confusion. None of them were absolutely rotten, but the branches were exceedingly brittle, and, if broken, they snapped like a pistol shot, making a noiseless advance most difficult. Through this chaos of fallen timber the young spruce had grown with extreme vigour, and I never experienced greater difficulty in making my way than in this tangled and obdurate mass of long trunks of gnarled trees, and branches lying at every angle, intergrown with the green boughs of younger spruce.