Hunting at High Altitudes 



lake, there boiled up in the middle of the stream 

 a clear cold spring, whose waters rose a foot above 

 the surrounding level. This water was very 

 palatable and cold, yet not more than a hundred 

 feet distant the hot springs were steaming and 

 discharging. On the north side of the lake 

 another small mountain stream entered it, and 

 near this our tents were placed. Brimstone Lake 

 was very shallow, with bubbles of gas constantly 

 coming up through the water. 



For a day or two- we camped here, looking for 

 Jones' Pass through the mountain range we wished 

 to cross. One morning, just before September 30, 

 we had been kept housed in the tent by a cold, 

 drizzling rain, but about 9 o'clock, the rain having 

 ceased, I stepped outside and looked around. Just 

 in front of the tent and about a hundred and fifty 

 yards toward the lake, was a grizzly bear aimlessly 

 rooting in the ground. I stepped into the tent, 

 secured my rifle and cartridge belt and passed out. 

 My dog Nip, judging from my actions that some- 

 thing was going to happen, followed at heel, 

 though I did not notice him. Meantime, the bear 

 had moved to the left and was a little further off. 

 I concluded from its careless actions in full view of 

 the tent that it was not much afraid, and rapidly 

 approached it. When within about 125 yards 



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