158 The Grizzly Bear 



have weighed eight hundred pounds. But he looked as 

 if he had not had a square meal all summer. His neck 

 was long, his body thin, his legs ungainly, but still showing 

 the tremendous muscles typical of the species. He seemed 

 to take four-foot strides, and I thought that surely so 

 great a brute would not stop to bother over a little wire; 

 but, on the contrary, he not only stopped, but nosed his 

 way carefully along until he came to the flash-pan. This 

 was placed upon a pole, and was about six feet above the 

 ground, and the old bear stood up on his hind legs and 

 looked into it, after which he followed the battery wires to 

 the camera, and then, returning, stood up a second time 

 and stuck his nose into the flash-pan. I am afraid that if 

 I had had a finger on the wire that controlled the switch, 

 the temptation to pull it would have been too much for me. 

 Meanwhile the bear, having again examined the camera, 

 deliberately turned back and disappeared up the trail, 

 and, much to my surprise, I saw no more of him. 



My next visitor was the largest grizzly that I had yet 

 seen. He would, I should judge, have weighed close to a 

 thousand pounds, and he was at once so old and so fat 

 that it was laughable to see him walk. He was rather 

 dark in color, his back looked as if it were two feet broad 

 and perfectly flat, and his legs did not seem to be more 

 than a foot long. His ears were hardly visible. Perhaps 

 he had lost most of them in the riots and ructions of a 

 long-vanished youth. Hope dies hard, even at the hand 

 of experience, and I again flattered myself that this old 

 veteran would not pay any attention to my petty schemes. 

 He came to the forks of the trail and took the other 

 turning. Then, appearing to change his mind, he turned 



