At any second Silver Hair would spot Nate, and in its agitated state, the grizzly would charge whether it detected his scent or not.  Nate turned to the cliff and saw numerous spots where the rock face had crumpled.   Climbing the rock wall was his only hope.  If he could get high enough, the grizzly wouldn't be able to get him.  Wedging his fingers into a narrow cleft, he rose a few inches.  He dared not glance over his shoulder.  The delay might cost him his life.
   Five feet he climbed.  Then seven.  His fingers hurt, his toes too, but he couldn't slow down.  He expected to hear the monster closing on him, but heard nothing.  Then, as he grabbed for a hole formed when some of the stone had eroded away, he heard a rumbling growl from directly below, and peering between his legs, Nate saw Silver Hair at the base of the cliff.  That very instant, the bear lunged upward, its huge forepaw reaching up to rip him from his perch....

   Toward morning the wind picked up until it was near hurricane force, buffeting the wagons and violently shaking the canvas covers.  Nate was constantly on the lookout for a suitable place where the settlers could make their stand.  Finally, on a ridge, he was overjoyed to find a small spring sheltered by boulders just below the crest.  With the vegetation burned away, there were few places the hostiles could take advantage of.
   "This will have to do,"  Nate said, moving along the rim.  Nodding in satisfaction, he moved to the west side and rose in the saddle to beckon the emigrants to join him.  But as he raised his arm, he paused.
   To the south, advancing at a determined dogtrot, was a long line of figures.
   The Piegan braves were coming and they would be out for blood.