112 BEAR SHOOTING 



A lark began his melodious even-song a few yards from 

 the leafy hut that had been prepared for me, and kept it 

 up long after the sun had imprinted his last kiss on the 

 highest hilltop. The evening star, a blaze of light in the 

 west, illumined the valley, casting distinct shadows on the 

 sward. The lark would make believe to drop to his nest 

 like a stone from the blue sky, but, when a few yards from 

 it, would mount again on quivering wings, till out of 

 sight once more, splitting his throat with melody. It was 

 glorious, and gave to the scene around a finishing touch 

 that nothing could surpass. 



Next day we went farther up the Dabin valley, the 

 coolies following some distance behind. The road was 

 blocked by bears. We had not gone half a mile when one 

 was seen on the hillside on the right bank of the stream, 

 obliging us to go back and cross by a snow-bridge. We 

 began the stalk, but just as we were within range some- 

 thing disturbed the bear, and he bolted in our direction, 

 but a little above us ; he was not more than fifty yards 

 from me at one point, running as hard as he could go. I 

 waited for him to stop to make sure of him — a fatal 

 mistake, for he never stopped, but went rushing on as if 

 the devil were after him ! At one hundred yards or so I 

 had two snap-shots at him, and of course missed ; a third 

 shot at much longer range was also unsuccessful ; and alto- 

 gether this stalk was fairly bungled. We never discovered 

 what alarmed the bear, but probably he saw the coolies 

 on the path across the stream, though the distance was 

 more than half a mile and the men were lying still, not 

 moving about. We went along the right side of the valley 

 and crossed a narrow gorge running down to the main 

 stream, and had not gone half a mile beyond this gorge 

 when two large bears were sighted on the hillside opposite, 

 across the stream, about half a mile above the path along 



