Grizzly by Gary Paulsen Page A

stepped inside.
    “Hello, Roy.” Uncle Mack turned his chair to face the man. “What brings you out so early?”
    The man saw Molly and removed his hat. “What happened?”
    Uncle Mack sighed. “Justin thinks it was a grizzly, maybe even the one that was at your place a couple of days ago. We lost twelve head, and Old Molly got the stuffing beat out of her.”
    “That’s why I’m here, Mack. I was hoping to warn you but I guess I’m too late. Luke Miller was hit last night too, right before you, it appears. He lost better than half his new crop of lambs.”
    Mack frowned. “Tell us how we can help.”
    “I’ve called a meeting of all the ranchers in a hundred-mile radius. There’s no other way. That bear has to be stopped.”

C HAPTER 3
    “I’m glad you were safe in the shed when that grizzly came around last night.” Justin playfully pulled the milk bottle out of the little lamb’s greedy mouth. The fuzzy little creature dove for it and landed with both front hooves square in the middle of Justin’s stomach.
    “You are a pig,” Justin laughed. “I should have named you Mr. Piggy instead of Blue.”
    “I think Blue is a good name.” Aunt Polly came through the gate. “It suits him. He’s got the look of a blue-ribbon champion. The only way you won’t win first place at the countyfair with him this fall is if the judges are stone blind.”
    Justin proudly stroked the pushy little lamb. “You hear that, Blue? You’re gonna be a winner!”
    “You’d better get a move on, Justin. Mack’s already in the truck. If we’re going to be on time for the ranchers’ meeting, we’d better get going.”
    Justin stood up, gave the lamb one last pull on the bottle, then put it up on the shelf. “That’s all for now, Blue. I’ll be back later.”
    Justin followed his aunt to the truck and waited for her to slide in beside Mack. Justin got behind the wheel and looked in the mirror to make sure Radar was safely in the back of the truck before he started the engine. Radar loved to go anywhere the truck was going.
    Justin was only thirteen, too young for a license, but no one out here ever paid any attention to things like that. Practical things were what mattered on a ranch. Things like missing school during lambing season, driving to the store for a load of feed, and stayingup in the high meadow in the summer for weeks at a time with the sheep.
    As the old Ford rambled over the bumpy dirt roads, Justin glanced at his uncle. Mack McCallister was the only father he’d ever known. Justin’s parents had died in a car wreck in Helena when he was a baby, and Mack and Polly had raised him.
    Mack was well liked among the ranchers because he worked hard and was always the first to lend a neighbor a helping hand. That was how he’d broken his hip, trying to help some friends round up a stray bull. The bull had butted the horse Uncle Mack was riding, and he had been thrown. The doctors said the break in his hip was bad and would take several months to heal.
    Justin slowed down, changed gears, and turned onto a gravel road. He ran a hand through his thick, dark brown hair.
    “You look fine, son.” Mack winked at him. “At least I’m pretty sure Sally Davis will think so.”
    “Cut it out.” Justin’s face flushed, the pinktraveling all the way to the tips of his ears. “We’re here on business.”
    Mack raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be sure and explain that to Sally.”
    Polly elbowed her husband as the truck came to a stop in front of a weather-beaten log house.
    Justin hopped out and took the wheelchair from the back of the truck. “You stay there, Radar. This shouldn’t take long.”
    He helped his uncle into the chair and pushed him up the path to the house. Mrs. Davis invited them in and offered them coffee.
    Justin looked around the room. It was crowded with serious-looking ranchers and farmers worried about their livelihoods.
    Roy Davis banged on the edge of a table with a butter knife. “Now that