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The weather suddenly turned balmy, and the incredibly blue sky promised a summer day. Ken, Joe and I rode up the ridge where we’d hunted the day before, where Ken set out a new bait. Hoping a bear had discovered it, Ken took Joe with him to watch it while I sat on the same overlook I’d been on before where I could look out into the old burn.

It would be an eight hour watch, so I brought along a book, called Log Of A Cowboy, written in the late 1880’s about driving cattle from Mexico to northern Montana. I sat on a big rock, and would read a couple pages, and then thoroughly glass the area below me.

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