A shiver went through Sid. Why, this was the place the Colonel had chosen for his hide! It was a hundred yards from where the buck lay, down hill, there, on the ravine flank! Then he got sight of the animal’s head. Big as a brown bowlder it was, with incurved snout-bone doubled up on a great beard of furry whiskers. The great round ears were erect, but the eyes were closed and a streak of blood ran from under long, glistening tushes still bared in the snarl of death. It was the Yellow Grizzly, Sid realized--but _where_ was his father! He stood looking over the carcass and peering about through the pinyons, fearfully. There were cakes of matted blood all over the long hair on the bear’s chest, and great cavities where the bullets had come out on the other side, and there in that side was a knife, still buried to the hilt--Niltci’s! Sid looked around, bewildered. The pines were all torn and mangled about him. There had been a terrific fight, here! Then a feebly cry electrified him. “Water!” it called, more a moan than an articulate voice. Sid rushed over. Down in a pit of bowlders he saw the brown khaki-clad back of a man, lying face downward doubled up on his side. Those broad shoulders could be none other than his father’s, the boy realized, as he scrambled toward the spot with sobs of anguish welling up in him. Gently he turned him over, and sat him up in a more comfortable position. Down the Colonel’s side, from his shoulder to knee, he saw a frightful row of red marks, as if some set of steel cultivator hooks had gouged its way there. The rocks around were all red, and the Colonel’s clothing was soaked and dripping. But the old warrior’s eyes opened and looked at him steadfastly as Sid slipped his arm tenderly behind his head, calling to him softly, the tears raining down his cheeks. He motioned for water. Sid nodded and raced to where he had tied Pinto. Ripping off the canteen from the saddle hook, he dashed back and held its life-giving stream to Colonel Colvin’s lips. Then he set about bandaging his claw wounds. “Better now, Father?” asked Sid, tremulously, as he finished. The Colonel opened his eyes again. “Niltci!” he gasped, waving his arm feebly. “Don’t mind me--now.” Sid rested him back, comfortably, and set out in the direction the Colonel had indicated, searching the bowlders under the low pinyons. Fifty feet further on, he made out a white cotton shirt lying under the shade of a scraggy pine. One buckskinned leg was drawn up in the act of creeping; the other lay limp and was red with blood. “Gosh,--that boy would have crawled all the way to camp for help, if he hadn’t fainted!” exclaimed Sid, as he rushed to him with his canteen. “I need all kinds of help, here! It’s time I fired our signal.”