The wind had shifted, and was almost in their faces.

Their swift walk changed to a dog-trot, and they swung in nearer to the slope, so that for fifteen minutes a huge knoll concealed the grizzly.
In another ten minutes they came to the ravine, a narrow, rock-littered and precipitous gully worn in the mountainside by centuries of spring floods gushing down from the snow-peaks above.

Here they made cautious observation.
The big grizzly was perhaps six hundred yards up the slope, and pretty close to three hundred yards from the nearest point reached by the gully.
Bruce spoke in a whisper now.
"You go up an' do the stalkin', Jimmy," he said.

"That bear's goin' to do one of two things if you miss or only wound 'im--one o' three, mebbe: he's going to investigate _you_, or he's going up over the break, or he's comin' down in the valley--this way.

We can't keep 'im from goin' over the break, an' if he tackles you--just summerset it down the gully.