Expedition to Oregon Desert 147 



all the boys in Oregon. It seemed that as the time 

 for his winter nap was approaching, Mr. Bruin had 

 been laying in a supply of fuel by devouring the fat 

 wethers of our friend's flock. The latter had built 

 a heavy brush fence around the sheep, and with the 

 help of a large number of hounds, had kept his 

 range free from coyotes, but he had been helpless 

 before the attacks of this big bear. When he 

 watched on top of the brush fence, he was not 

 molested, but no sooner did he seek the comfortable 

 cot in his tent, than his slumbers were broken by the 

 piteous bleat of some sheep, as it was carried off to 

 the woods by the bear. 



About ten days before I reached Klamath, he had 

 been awakened in the middle of the night by a com- 

 motion in the flock, and rushing out in his shirt into 

 the cool night air, had seen the bear only ten feet 

 away, across a deep and narrow stream. Without 

 thinking of the consequences to himself if he only 

 wounded the creature, he opened fire with his Win- 

 chester, and the first shot broke the bear's neck. 



When I arrived, the skin had been removed, but 

 the huge carcass, which must have weighed at least 

 a ton, had been lying in the hot August sun ever 

 since. The sheep-owner (I am sorry that I have 

 forgotten his name, as I was under heavy obliga- 

 tions to him) promised me that after breakfast he 

 would help me in the not very enviable task of re- 



