Memories of a Bear Hunter 



before I could load and give him a second shot, 

 about fifteen feet off, he was up again and rushed 

 for me. My horse barely got out of the reach of 

 his claws before getting headway, though as a 

 matter of precaution he was headed outward. We 

 had now spent more than two hours about this bear 

 and a blinding snowstorm had begun, which made 

 it more difficult to hear or see him as he moved 

 about in the thicket. He was evidently badly 

 wounded in the lungs. For some time we kept up 

 the bombardment, but accomplished nothing since 

 we had to aim wholly by guess. A council was 

 held then as to whether on foot we should boldly 

 approach him or wait until morning, when we felt 

 sure he would be found dead. We finally con- 

 cluded that discretion was the better part of valor. 

 Had we ventured in on foot and the bear possessed 

 a little more vitality than anticipated, we should 

 have stood no chances against such an infuriated 

 monster in brush so thick as to prevent the effective 

 use of our rifles. 



We now reluctantly withdrew, and reached 

 camp, about two miles away, at half past five 

 o'clock. We were wet from the driving snow- 

 storm and disappointed that we had been obliged 

 to leave the bear hide on the carcass. A hot sup- 

 per revived our spirits, and after it, although the 



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