50 WILD SPORTS IN THE SOUTH. 



eye blandly, and then with a dexterous use of his paw, 

 he scratched his side, or rubbed his nose, when the flies 

 tickled him. 



Presently Mike came up, with his rifle on his arm. A 

 glance up in the tree, and he quietly took his seat on a 

 log, remarking, as he did so, " He bear." 



" Oh ! what a murderous animal !" said the Doctor. 

 "Look at my dog there ; how he has treated him." 



Sure enough, the dog was a living witness to bad 

 treatment. He could just move, and when he lay down 

 he gave one or two short yelps of'mingled pain and spite. 

 Never was a dog more miserably punished ; had he been 

 heavier he would have been killed, but as it was, he was 

 only bruised, and woefully frightened. 



The Doctor looked grimly at the bear. " Shoot him, 

 why don't you?" he continued to Mike; "just see him 

 making fun of us all!" 



Mike wiped his rifle with his coat sleeve and raised it 

 to his shoulder. A pause, and the clear ring of the shot 

 was followed by a convulsive leap of the hunted animal, 

 and a short, fierce cry, and crashing through the inter- 

 vening limbs he came with a heavy, dull sound to the 

 ground. We ran up to him; he did not move. The 

 ball had entered his eye, and the bear was dead. 



I looked at Mike. With his still smile on his wrinkled 

 face, he was carefully fitting a ball to his rifle. He didn't 

 oven glance at his prize. 



