Hunting the Grisly. 3 11 



crushed, and the brains licked out, and there were signs of 

 other injuries. The hunters pondered long over this 

 strange discovery, and hazarded many guesses as to its 

 meaning. At last they decided that probably the cub 

 had been killed, and its brains eaten out, either by some 

 old male-grisly or by a cougar, that the mother had re- 

 turned and driven away the murderer, and that she had 

 then buried the body and lain above it, waiting to wreak 

 her vengeance on the first passer-by. 



Old Tazewell Woody, during his thirty years' life as a 

 hunter in the Rockies and on the great plains, killed very 

 many grislies. He always exercised much caution in 

 dealing with them ; and, as it happened, he was by some 

 suitable tree in almost every case when he was charged. 

 He would accordingly climb the tree (a practice of which 

 I do not approve however) ; and the bear would look up 

 at him and pass on without stopping. Once, when he 

 was hunting in the mountains with a companion, the 

 latter, who was down in a valley, while Woody was on 

 the hill-side, shot at a bear. The first thing Woody knew 

 the wounded grisly, running up-hill, was almost on 

 him from behind. As he turned it seized his rifle in its 

 jaws. He wrenched the rifle round, while the bear still 

 gripped it, and pulled trigger, sending a bullet into its 

 shoulder ; whereupon it struck him with its paw, and 

 knocked him over the rocks. By good luck he fell in a 

 snow bank and was not hurt in the least. Meanwhile the 

 bear went on and they never got it. 



Once he had an experience with a bear which showed 

 a very curious mixture of rashness and cowardice. He 

 and a companion were camped in a little tepee or wigwam, 



