In Frank Clark's own words.
  "On August 21, 1923, I visited the trap and he (Old Eph) has drummed the wallow into a newly built one, so I carefully changed the trap to his newly built bath. I was camped one mile down the canyon in a tent. That night was fine, beautiful, a starlight night, and I was sleeping fine when I was awakened by a roar and a groan near camp. I had a dog, but not a sound came from Mr. Dog. I tried to get to sleep, but no chance; so I got up and put on my shoes but no trousers. I did take my gun, a .25-35 caI. carbine with seven steel ball cartridges, and walked up the trail. I did not know it was "Eph": in fact, I thought it was a horse that was down. "Eph" was in the creek in some willows and after I had got past him, he let me know all at once that it was not a horse. What should I do? Alone, the closest human being three miles away and "Eph" between me and camp.

I listened and could hear the chain rattle and so did my teeth. I decided to get up on the hillside and wait for him. I spent many hours up there; I had no way of knowing how many, listening to "Eph's" groans and bellows. Daylight came at last and now it was my turn.

"Eph" was pretty well hidden in the creek bottom and willows, so I threw sticks in to scare him out. He slipped out and went down by the tent and crawled into the willows there. I tracked him down there, and when I got close to the tent, I could see a small patch of hide. I fired at it and grazed the shoulder. Now for me to get the greatest thrill of my life.