HOW I KILLED A BEAR. 105 



do under the circumstances. Probably you wouldn't do 

 it : I didn't. The bear dropped down on his fore-feet, 

 and came slowly toward me. Climbing a tree was no 

 use with so good a climber in the rear. If I started to 

 run, I had no doubt the bear would give chase ; and, al- 

 though a bear can not run down-hill as fast as he can run 

 up-hill, yet I felt that he could get over this rough, brush- 

 tangled ground faster than I could. 



9. The bear was approaching. It suddenly occurred 

 to me how I could divert his mind until I could fall back 

 upon my military base. My pail was nearly full of excel- 

 lent berries much better than the bear could pick him- 

 self. I put the pail on the ground and slowly backed 

 away from it, keeping my eye, as beast-tamers do, on the 

 bear. The ruse succeeded. 



10. The bear came up to the berries and stopped. 

 Not accustomed to eat out of a pail, he tipped it over, 

 and nosed about the fruit "gorming" it down, mixed 

 with leaves and dirt, like a pig. The bear is a worse 

 feeder than a pig. Whenever he disturbs a maple-sugar 

 camp in the spring, he always upsets the buckets of 

 sirup, and tramples round in the sticky sweets, wasting 

 more than he eats. The bear's manners are thoroughly 

 disagreeable. 



11. As soon as my enemy's head was down, I started 

 and ran. Somewhat out of breath, and shaky, I reached 

 my faithful rifle. It was not a moment too soon. I heard 

 the bear crashing through the brush after me. Enraged 

 at my duplicity, he was now coming on with blood in his 

 eye. I felt the time of one of us was probably short. 

 The rapidity of thought at such moments of peril is 

 well known. As I was cocking my gun, I made a hasty 

 and unsatisfactory review of my whole life. I noted that, 

 even in such a compulsory review, it is almost impossible 



