ON THE SHEEP RANGES 27 



started quartering down the slope, and disappeared. The 

 wind was in my favor, so, after waiting five minutes, I 

 started. The way was very steep, and because of the 

 succession of benches it was impossible to see more than 

 twenty or thirty feet above each one after it was reached. 

 Holding my rifle cocked, expecting to meet the bear 

 close as I came to the top of each bench, I climbed one 

 after another, always very slowly to keep my breath for 

 a steady shot, until I arrived on the last, when I saw 

 the bear slowly walking along the upper surface of the 

 basin close to the mountain-side, about three hundred 

 yards off. She kept an irregular course, often pausing 

 and looking for ground-squirrels. I followed rapidly, try- 

 ing to gain, but always stopping when she stopped, ready 

 to drop low if she faced in my direction. After gaining a 

 hundred yards, I sat down, rested my elbows on my 

 knees, and aiming at her left hind quarter as she paused, 

 fired, and heard the bullet strike her. She jumped, 

 turned, and stood with forelegs extended forward, appar- 

 ently panting. The cub at once began to run about 

 bawling. The bear dropped to a sitting posture for a 

 moment and then rose. I fired a second shot at her 

 foreshoulder and heard the bullet strike her. She gave 

 a great jump and stood until a third shot was fired, when 

 she fell, kicked once or twice, and was dead. 



The cub was still running about crying, and I went 

 slowly toward it, intending if possible to capture it for 

 the New York Zoological Park. When within fifty feet 

 the cub saw me. It ran around, looking at me with 

 great curiosity, sniffing again and again, approached a few 



