Bear Hunting on the Alaska Peninsula 



ily raising my head above the bank I saw the bear 

 feeding, only seventy-five yards away. Creeping 

 cautiously out of the boat I lay flat upon my 

 stomach, rifle cocked and ready, waiting for a good 

 shot. Soon it came. The bear heard some sound 

 in the forest, and raised his head. Now was my 

 chance, and the next second he dropped without a 

 sound; he struggled to rise, but I could see he was 

 anchored with a broken shoulder. My men were 

 unable to restrain themselves any longer, and as I 

 shot for the second time, their rifles cracked just 

 after mine. We now rushed up to close quarters. 

 The bear, shot through the lungs, was breathing 

 heavily and rapidly choking. 



Suddenly I heard a yap, and then, out over the 

 marsh, came Stereke at full speed. I had left him 

 with my friend, as we thought we might have to 

 do some delicate stalking across the open. He had 

 sighted the bear, and watched our approach all 

 a-tremble, and at the report of my rifle there was 

 no holding him. Over the ground he came in 

 great bounds, and arrived just in time to give the 

 bear a couple of shakes before he breathed his last. 

 We carried the entire carcass to the baidarka, and 

 even the cartridge shells were taken away, to avoid 

 tainting the place with an unusual scent. 



The next day we returned to the main camp, 

 141 



