180 WILD SPORTS IN THE FAR WEST. 



not less than from four to about eight or ten clogs, the 

 hunters seek in the thickest ami most unfrequented 

 parts of the forest the favorite haunts of the bear. 

 The men ride slowly through the thorns and creepers, 

 the dogs seeking in all directions till they find a fresh 

 trail, or a bear breaks cover, when they follow up in 

 full cry. If the bear is fat he seldom runs far, but 

 takes to a tree, or shows fight ; if there are not dogs 

 enough to master him, he knocks them over and con- 

 tinues his flight. If he takes to a tree, his fate is soon 

 sealed by the rifle. 



We had ridden along quietly for about an hour, when 

 the dogs gave tongue, and started oil', we after them as 

 well as we could. My horse was an old hand at it, 

 and I had nothing to do but to sit fast as he leaped 

 the fallen trees, and try to avoid the creepers, which 

 however often checked, and sometimes threw us. 



Keeping up with the dogs was out of the question. 

 I had long lost sight of my companion ; I listened, 

 and it appeared that the bear had turned to the left, 

 towards the river; could he reach it, he was safe, it 

 was too cold for the dogs besides, they would hardly 

 venture to swim, and we also must have remained on 

 the bank. 



I changed my course to cut him off, and luckily hit 

 upon one of the cattle tracks that cross the wood in 

 all directions. Once clear of the thorns, we went at a 

 good pace, and soon heard the pack approaching. 

 Suddenly the horse swerved to one side with a snort, 

 and the bear burst out of the, thicket. The moment 

 he saw the horse, he stopped short and gave a deep 

 growl. I had sprung oil', and the bear had hardly 



