Gilpin observer., 1920-01-15
.LED TO FORTUNE
Pierre's Long Trail Of Silver
Tip Rewarded.
Determined Hunter TraIled Bear Over
Miles Of Snow, and Finally Stum-
bled On and Killed Valuable
Arctic Fox.

so highly priced by the trapper and
patron as the silver fox of the arctic
circle. So rare are they that hunters
do not devote themselves exclusively
to the pursuit, but the story of Pierre
Baptiste of that far country is Pc
culiarly thrilling, as 1t recounts how
one of these animals fell before his
trusty rifle while he was on the trail
of marauding bear which had been
devastating his traps. The Hunter
Trader-Trapper of Columbus. o., tells
the story, as repeated by Robert Il.
Hewes.
when Pierre Baptiste swore to trail
Silver Tip down. he did so with full
realization of what he was swearing
to do. But the fiery blood that ran in
Pierre's veins when aroused knew no
cooling till justice was done" says
Mr. Hewes. "And so with his lips set
firmly and light of determination
burning in his eyes, he took up the
trail of Silver Tip-the sworn Nemesis
of that outlaw of the North.
"Two hours later Pierre stopped.
The last blur of the timber line had
melted away behind him and on the
north and on all sides stretched In
terminable snow. Pierre was sweat
ing from his superexertion and during
the momentary rest his clothes froZe
to boardlike stiffness. His legs were
dog-weary and even the weight of his
rifle seemed tons, but still the bears
trail led on and on into those God
forsaken regions.
after a while, Pierre began to lose
sense of time. He Just plodded dog
gedly ahead, his eyes glued to the
bears trail. He knew he was getting
far, far into the arctic regions. That
bear should wander so far-again
he marveled.
Pierre halted, dropped to his knees
and stared at something. Hairs, he
saw, that the jagged edge of the ice
had pulled from the bear as he clam
bered over-but they were white!-
white as the snow itself! He, Pierre
Baptiste, was trailing n bear that
knew no boundary of snow and ice. A
chill wind began to creep over the
snow wastes, and Pierre's snow
shoes seemed to be tugging to drag
trail down Silver Tip?
"Within an eighth of mile. Pierre
saw something moving, numbering
figure plodding over the snow, n figure
brown-haired and with n silver nose
and n splash of white on the belly ms
| the snow-dragged. A smile of grim sat
isfaction cracked Pierre's frosted fen
lures as he slipped Off his mitten and
raised his rife to his shoulder.
"As Pierre pressed his cheek against
| the stock of his rifle he thought he
saw something out Of the corner OF
his eve that made him turn. He low
cred his rifle and scanned the snow
| field on all sides, but as far as eyes
could reach there stretched only the
besides himself was that numbering
| ball of brown. Something. the barest
bit of a glimpse, had drawn his atten-
| ton, but he saw no moving thing other
| than the bear.
"'Eet ees so ver' funny" muttered
Pierre, and prepared to raise his rifle
determInedly. Then, on ridge. and
| the color of the ice 1t moved against,
| he saw something move. One moment
he stared and his keen eyes dstin-
guished the silver fox from its icy
background.
"With steellike steadiness Pierre
raised his rifle and sighted. A spurt
of fame cracked the FROSTY air and
shattered the white silence into mil
| lion echoes. The next moment Pierre
was stumbling madly across the snow
to where growing red blotch showed
clearer than the fox. The trapper
fell to his knees by the dead animal
and examined It most reverently, run
ming his fingers through the silky fur
with the tenderness of n connoisseur.
Fortune of fortunes! There was not
n