124 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. 
boat, and singing out “red devils, look out below,” 
fired. The bear leaped entirely out of the water, fell 
upon his back, and after a convulsive kick or two, float- 
ed lifelessly upon the water. 
This exploit of the white man, so sudden and unex- 
pected, was greeted by a loud shout from all parties. 
‘You see,” said the hunter, as he coolly laid down 
his rifle—‘ you see the bear has a feeling, strangers, and 
whar is the use in tormenting the varmint? my old 
shooting iron never misses, but if it had hit a red-skin 
by accident, I should not have been ashamed of the shot 
—for the bear is the best Christian of the two, and a 
parfect gentleman, compared with the best copper-skin 
that ever breathed.” 
The Indians in the water at the last shot expressed 
a significant “ugh,” and approaching the bear, gave him 
repeated thrusts with their knives, which showed that 
they thought him a hard-lived and dangerous animal. 
In a few minutes they recovered their canoe, and were 
towing the dead carcass ashore. 
Fifty Indians at least now threw their blankets aside, 
and leaping into the water, swam after the bear. The 
tearing off of the huge skin, and jerking the meat, was 
dispatched so rapidly, that it indicated an accustomed 
work. 
This little incident relieved the monotony, of all 
others the most disagreeable—that of being aground in 
the Mississippi, and the hours of labor which were spent 
