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HUNTING TRIPS 



torn the rapid torrent gathered in places into 

 black and sullen mountain lakes. As the 

 bull turned to run I struck him just behind 

 the shoulder; he reeled to the death-blow, 

 but staggered gamely on a few rods into 

 the forest before sinking to the ground, with 

 my second bullet through his lungs. 



Two or three days later than this I killed 

 another bull, nearly as large, in the same 

 patch of woods in which I had slain the 

 first. A bear had been feeding on the carcass 

 of the latter, and, after a vain effort to find 

 his den, we determined to beat through the 

 woods and try to start him up. Accord- 

 ingly, Merrifield, the teamster, and myself 

 took parallel courses some three hundred 

 yards apart, and started at one end to walk 

 through to the other. I doubt if the team- 

 ster much wished to meet a bear alone 

 (while nothing would have given Merrifield 

 more hearty and unaffected enjoyment than 

 to have encountered an entire family), and 

 he gradually edged in pretty close to me. 

 Where the woods became pretty open I saw 



