Once Thor struck the scent of another grizzly, and he rumbled ill-humouredly.
Not once in the two hours after they left the sunrock did Thor pay any apparent attention to Muskwa, who was growing hungrier and weaker as the day lengthened.

No boy that ever lived was gamer than the little tan-faced cub.

In the rough places he stumbled and fell frequently; up places that Thor could make in a single step he had to fight desperately to make his way; three times Thor waded through the creek and Muskwa half drowned himself in following; he was battered and bruised and wet and his foot hurt him--but he followed.

Sometimes he was close to Thor, and at others he had to run to catch up.

The sun was setting when Thor at last found game, and Muskwa was almost dead.
He did not know why Thor flattened his huge bulk suddenly alongside a rock at the edge of a rough meadow, from which they could look down into a small hollow.