BEARS & WATER-HOLE SHOOTING 



I could just faintly see. In a moment the bear scrambled 

 down the bank about 10 yards away, and as soon as I could 

 make him out in the darkness I fired, and down he dropped 

 without sound or movement. The smoke of my shot hung 

 around me like a fog cloud, and I waited, finger on second 

 trigger, in some suspense for a little while. However, when 

 it cleared off I made out a black mass on the ground, and 

 Wilkins called out, " What has happened?" I told him I 



had slain the bear. " By " said Wilkins, with emphasis, 



and came along to look at it, and a fine beast it was, fat and 

 in good condition. 



I knew the place well and Wilkins did not, hence I was 

 enabled in a moment to judge the course the bear was 

 taking and act accordingly, whilst Wilkins had made his 

 way towards the direction of the first sound. 



The amazing thing was that it never perceived the huge 

 glow of our fire, which lit up the whole hollow, nor heard 

 our by no means low-voiced talking. The wind was, how- 

 ever, right, so he could hardly have scented us, and as he 

 never came out of the undergrowth, he failed to notice the 

 fire, though he passed within 5 yards of the edge of the 

 little glade. It was a curious experience, and we talked 

 over it for a long time before finally going to sleep in our 

 remote, impromptu little camp. The opposite illustration 

 is a photo of the bear and myself, taken by Wilkins next 

 morning. The animal was a good big one, but its fame 

 has spread, and so has its size, for since then I have more 

 than once heard my men say, if bears were the subject of 

 conversation, " Ah, but you should have seen the bear 

 master shot at Rela Panawa it was, &c. &c. ! " I think 

 its size now approaches that of a large buffalo, and its 

 footprint has grown until it is measured by the length from 

 the tip of the middle finger to the elbow ! 



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