HUNTING WITH AN UNLOADED GUN. 817 



mained quietly grazing, and rode away with two good 

 resolutions in my head, first, never to go a step with 

 my gun unloaded ; secondly, to seek a nearer acquain- 

 tance with Bruin on the morrow, if possible. 



On the 22nd of November, I was early afoot, and al- 

 though the weather was cold and disagreeable, I set off 

 with a neighbor and eleven dogs, full of joyous hopes. 



Bear-shooting in America differs according to the time 

 of the year, and the habits of the animal. It was now 

 late in the autumn, almost winter, so that they could be 

 hunted with dogs. Well mounted, with not less than 

 from four to about eight or ten dogs, the hunters seek in 

 the thickest and 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 continues his flight. If he takes 

 to a tree, his fate i m s soon sealed by the rifle. 



We had ridden along quietly for about an hour, when 

 the dogs gave tongue, and started off, 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 



