THE BIG BEAR OF ARKANSAS. 8Y 
have done it by hitting him in the head. Your shot 
has made a tiger of him; and blast me, if a dog gets 
killed or wounded when they come to blows, I will stick 
) 
my knife into your liver, I will My wrath was up. 

I had lost my caps, my gun had snapped, the fellow 
with me had fired at the bear’s head, and I expected 
every moment to see him close in with the dogs and 
kill a dozen of them at least. In this thing I was mis- 
taken ; for the bear leaped over the ring formed by the 
dogs, and giving a fierce growl, was off—the pack, of 
course, in full ery after him. The run this time was 
short, for coming to the edge of a lake, the varmint 
jumped in, and swam to a little island in the lake, which 
it reached, just a moment before the dogs. 
“*T ll have him now,’ said I, for I had found my 
caps in the Lining of my coat—so, rolling a log into the 
lake, I paddled myself across to the island, just as the 
dogs had cornered the bear in a thicket. I rushed up 
and fired—at the same time the critter leaped over the 
dogs and came within three feet of me, running like 
mad; he jumped into the lake, and tried to mount the 
log I had just deserted, but every time he got half his 
body on it, it would roll over and send him under; the 
dogs, too, got around him, and pulled chim about, and 
finally Bowieknife clenched with him, and they sunk 
into the lake together. 
“Stranger, about this time I was excited, and I 
stripped off my coat, drew my knife, and intended to 
