"Ten feet four inches, from the tip of the nose to the root of the tail,"
announced Tom. "Gee, but he's a monster."

"The daddy of them all," said Dick.

"He must weigh over half a ton," judged Bert.

They looked with a shudder at the terrible claws and fangs.

"They say that a grizzly has forty-two teeth," remarked Tom, "but I
thought he had forty-two thousand when he was bearing down upon us with
his mouth open."

"Well, now the question is what are we going to do with him," said Dick.

"That's a pleasant way to put it," laughed Bert. "A little while ago the
question was what was he going to do with us."

"I don't know," he mused, "what we can do. We can't skin him, because we
haven't the proper knives, and then, too, it takes an expert to get that
hide off without spoiling it. On the other hand, we can't leave it here
and expect to find it in the morning. The other animals will feast on
the carcass, and the skin won't be any good when they've got through
tearing it. If it were a deer we could hang it up out of reach. But we
couldn't even move this mountain, let alone lift it."

"Of course we can come back and get the teeth and claws, anyway," put in
Dick. "But I hate like thunder to lose the skin."

"I tell you what," suggested Bert. "Let's hustle around and get as many