146 Life of a Fossil Hunter 



vent to our emotions, we broke out into the old song, 

 " 'Way down upon the Suwanee River " ; and so we 

 journeyed on for many hours, never out of sight of 

 that majestic form. 



At Ashland I was obliged to wait for a driver 

 with a buckboard and a team of ponies to take me 

 to Fort Klamath, Oregon. I was at that time a 

 great lover of the gentle art of fishing, and early in 

 the morning, before it was fully light, I was astir 

 among the great live-oaks that grace the town. 

 Walking through the sleeping village, I ran across 

 the footprints of a large grizzly bear in the dust of 

 the road, and followed them through the vacant 

 streets. Wherever a gate had been left open, the 

 bear had entered the yard, walked around the house, 

 and come out at the gate again. I hoped to get a 

 glimpse of him, but was disappointed, as the tracks 

 led into the gloom of the forest. So I went fishing, 

 and caught some speckled beauties for breakfast. 



That evening I was driven over to Fort Klamath, 

 where I was kindly invited to take possession of the 

 commanding officer's quarters and make myself at 

 home; an invitation which I proceeded to accept at 

 once. 



Learning that a sheep-owner a few miles away 

 had killed a grizzly, I went out to his camp to see it. 

 Sure enough, there lay the mighty carcass, encircled 

 with four inches of grease, enough for the polls of 



