A Bear-Hunt in the Sierras 



of an outlandish and forgotten pattern, good 

 enough to try a chance shot at another Mexi- 

 can with, but only a source of more or less 

 pleasurable titillation to a bear, were one ever 

 to be discharged at him, and about as effective 

 as pelting an alligator with strawberries. If 

 the last stage of misery for a horse be to drag, 

 along its rigid road of stone and iron, the city 

 horse -car with its thankless freight of fares, 

 the corresponding degradation of the "gun" 

 is to rest upon the hip of a degenerate sheep- 

 herder, half Spaniard, half Indian and half coy- 

 ote. Any self-respecting weapon reduced to 

 such straits would be conscious of its low es- 

 tate ; its magazine would revolve in a creaky, 

 half-hearted, reluctant fashion ; it would doubt- 

 less fire an apologetic bullet ; its report would 

 be something between "scat" and "beg your 

 pardon," to which a bear would pay but slight 

 heed. Others of the Mexicans were armed 

 with old muskets, somewhat rusty and ram- 

 shackly, but with a furry longitudinal perfora- 

 tion throughout their length, along which — it 

 could not creditably be called a bore — a ball 

 could after a fashion, if you gave it time 

 enough, be propelled. Leonard was excep- 

 tionally fortunate in this respect ; he carried an 



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