Memories of a Bear Hunter 



and we felt sure that the old she bear was there, 

 the cub carrying around the trap, which the old 

 bear had broken loose at an earlier visit. Telling 

 Corey to carry my rifle, I hobbled after him with 

 crutch and stick. We approached with much cau- 

 tion, following down the streamlet which flowed 

 by the camp to its mouth, and thence under cover 

 of a bank, following up a swale on the opposite 

 side of Willow Creek, intending to get behind 

 the carcass, where the bears were supposed to be. 

 Nevertheless, in some mysterious way, the bear 

 had received a hint of our movements, for after 

 climbing high enough to look over the ground, 

 there was nothing in sight. It was bright moon- 

 light. 



Above us in the direction of the pass over the 

 mountain which bear used, there was a plain sound 

 of iron being dragged over boulders. Corey at 

 once gave me my rifle, and rapidly followed the 

 sound, while I stopped behind to await develop- 

 ments. In half an hour he returned rather hur- 

 riedly, and reported that after following the cub 

 and going nearly to the top of the pass, he had 

 come so close to the cub as to make a rush for it 

 to try and secure his trap. However, the old bear 

 was on the watch on the mountainside above and 

 to the right, and she made a dash for Corey. 



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