38 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. 



the exertion, the dogs got hold of him, and held on 

 while I blowed his heart out. Ever since that time, I 

 have been wide awake with a wounded bar — sartainty 

 or stand off^ being my motto. 



" I shall dream of that bar to-night," concluded 

 Bob, fixing his blanket over him ; and a few moments 

 onh' elapsed before he was in danger of his life, if his 

 rifle would go off, as he had said, at a good imitation of 

 a bear's breathing. 



Fortunately for me, the sun on the following morn 

 was fairly above the horizon before our little party was 

 ready for the start. "While breakfast was being pre- 

 pared, the rifles were minutely examined ; some were 

 taken apart, and every precaution used to insure a quick 

 and certain fire. A rude breakfast having been des- 

 patched, lots were drawn who should go into the drive 

 with the dogs, as this task in Satan's Summer Retreat 

 is any thing but a pleasant one, being obliged often to 

 walk on the bending cane, which is so thick for hun- 

 dreds of yards that you cannot touch or see the ground, 

 — then crawling on your hands and knees between roots, 

 you are sometimes brought to a complete halt, and 

 obliged to cut your way through with the knife. While 

 this is going on, the hunters are at tlie stands, places 

 which their judgments dictate as most likely to be 

 passecl by the bear when roused by the dogs. 



Two miles might, on this occasion, have been passed 

 over by those in the drive in the course of three hours, 



