Hardware and Persimmons found pretty much the same traveling as Ralph. But not as experienced as he in following a trail, they did not advance so fast. Luckily, as it so fell out for them, the pony that they were trailing was one known as White-eye. He was a harum-scarum sort of a brute, and for that reason Mountain Jim had fastened round his neck, the night before, a lariat with a heavy stone attached to it. The stone had left a plainly swept path through the woods, and except in one or two baffling places the boys had followed it without much difficulty.

Instead of keeping to the open mountain side, like Ralph’s quarry, White-eye had made his way up a gully that cut deep into the hills, leading in a diagonal slash to the north. The two lads followed[125] the bottom of the gully as far as it led and then, still following the trail of the stone attached to White-eye’s neck, they made their way up a rough, rock-strewn slope to the summit of the ridge.

Unlike the country Ralph had struck, Hardware and his companion found themselves, on the summit of the ridge, in a forest of white birch and shady green timber, amidst which the sunlight filtered down cheerfully. Passing through this they emerged on a rocky hillside thickly grown with “scotch-caps,” or sackatoons, Rocky Mountain blueberries and snake berries, while under foot was a carpet of red heather.

The boys ate heartily of the blueberries and scotch caps, but one taste of the snake berries was enough for them. They were bitter and nauseating to a degree, although Mountain Jim had told them that bears preferred them to any other berry.

“No accounting for tastes,” commented Hardware[126] in this connection, “and speaking of bears, I wonder if there are any hereabouts?”

“Bucking blueberries, I hope not,” exclaimed Persimmons, looking about him in some trepidation. “I’d like to have Mountain Jim along if we are going to run into anything like that.”

“This looks like the sort of country he said bears frequented,” was Hardware’s response. “I don’t see why we should be scared to meet one, either.”

“I suppose you’d go right up and say ‘Goodmorning, bear,’” snorted Persimmons.

“Well, we’ve got our rifles, and they are supposed to be powerful enough to bring down any bear, and——”

“Howling hammerheads, what’s the matter now?”

The question was a natural one, for Hardware had stopped short and was staring ahead of them down the steep hillside.

[127]

“Why, something’s moving down there. It may be a bear. Get your rifle ready.”

Hardware’s face took on a determined expression and he looked to the mechanism of his rifle and slipped a magazine into place. Persimmons did the same, muttering to himself as he did so that it was no use fighting a bear, and that they’d better give Bruin a wide berth.

But the next instant their anxiety was relieved and gave place to high good humor. The object Hardware had spied moving among the rocks and brambles was not a grizzly, but the recreant White-eye, cropping the grass as he moved about.

Suddenly he looked up and saw the boys. With upraised head and pricked ears he watched their advance.

“Goodness! I hope he will let us get near him,” said Hardware. “I don’t much fancy a chase through this sort of country.”

“He looks as wild as a hawk,” was his companion’s response.

[128]

Indeed White-eye did not appear as ............