It was two summers ago. She and Mom were hiking together on one of their favorite trails. It was just the two of them — Dad had stayed at the cabin to watch Kevin, and Pops’s knees had been giving him trouble. Mel was always happy to have Mom to herself.

They were walking along a babbling stream when suddenly Mom gasped. Mel followed her worried gaze across the water. There, under a tree, was a large bear, lying on its side. It looked like it was sleeping.

Even from ten feet away, they could tell it was a grizzly — it had the hump between its shoulders. That was the main difference between grizzly bears and black bears.

It was important to know the difference. Because grizzlies were more aggressive and powerful than black bears. Grizzly attacks were very rare. They usually only happened when a grizzly was surprised or felt threatened. And this bear would be very surprised — and feel very threatened — when it woke up and saw Mel and Mom standing there.

How had this bear not heard them coming?

Mom and Mel always made noise when they were hiking. That was rule number one here in grizzly country: to make noise so you never surprised a bear. They talked loudly. They sang. They clapped. Mom and Mel were the loudest hikers in Glacier.

Why hadn’t this grizzly woken up?

And then they figured it out.

“Mel,” Mom had said, grabbing Mel’s arm. “The bear is dead.”

And that’s when Mel noticed the bear’s eyes. They were open wide, staring, unblinking.

They stood there for a moment.

“Come,” Mom said. “Let’s go see.”

They crossed the creek and knelt down next to the bear. Mel’s body jangled with a mix of fear and excitement. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to see Glacier’s most fearsome creature right up close.

It was enormous, with shaggy brown fur dusted with gray. Mel studied the bear’s rounded ears, its shiny black nose, the giant snout. Mom pointed out the bulges on the side of the jaw. Those were the muscles that gave grizzlies such a powerful bite — strong enough to chomp through metal.

“What a magnificent creature,” Mom said.

She spoke very quietly, as if they were in an art museum. Or at church.

“It’s very old,” Mom said. “You can tell by its teeth.”

The bear’s mouth was open just wide enough to see inside. Its teeth were worn down and chipped. Three of its four long teeth — the canines — were gone.

Mel gently put her hands on the bear’s side. They disappeared up to her wrists in its glossy fur. But what amazed Mel most about the grizzly — and gave her goose bumps — were the bear’s paws.

They were enormous, practically like baseball mitts, furry on top, with thick black pads on the bottom. She knew how powerful they could be: One smack could knock out a moose. And those claws … long and white and slightly curved. Mel touched the tip of one with her finger. It felt as strong as steel.

Mom and Mel sat with the bear for a long time, until the sun started to drop down in the sky. Then they gathered as many fallen pine branches as they could. They laid them carefully over the grizzly’s body. They said a little prayer. And they left the bear in its wild resting place.

“We’ll never forget this,” Mom had said.

Mom was right. Mel could still remember every detail of that day.

That grizzly didn’t seem like a ferocious beast. It was beautiful, like one of Glacier’s lakes or waterfalls.

Nothing like that monster they’d seen tonight.