302 MISCELLANEOUS. 



I hoped, of course, that having now obtained a sightly look- 

 out, I might be favored with a shot. I waited long and 

 anxiously for the hounds to renew their music, but the wel- 

 come sound came not. All was silent as the grave. At 

 length my interest in the sport subsided. I meditated. Then 

 I succumbed to the effects of the balmy mountain air and the 

 mild September sun, and gradually fell asleep. 1 may have 

 slept an hour, perhaps more, when on the rocks at my very 

 feet I heard a clanking as of heavy chains. I started up, and 

 was horror-stricken to see that there, within six feet of me, 

 stood a huge grizzly bear, and that to one of his fore feet 

 hung a powerful steel trap, which, with the clog attached, he 

 had dragged from the vicinity of our camp, where we had set 

 it and several others for wolves. His legs and belly were all 

 besmeared with his own blood ; the froth was dripping from 

 his mouth, and his eyes glared like balls of fire as he reared 

 upon his haunches to strike me to the earth. With a convul- 

 sive and half-conscious movement I caught up my rifle and, 

 without attempting to aim, fired in the direction of the huge 

 monster. Through the cloud of smoke that ensued I saw a 

 large black spot on his breast where the fire from the dis- 

 charge had burned the hair away. I dropped my rifle and 

 'clutched my knife, but at this instant a terrible blow on my 

 shoulder sent me prostrate and insensible upon the ground. 

 An instant later I felt my left arm crushed as if in a vice, and 

 the flesh torn from it as if by the strength of a giant. By an 

 almost superhuman effort I rose upon my knees, still clutching 

 my knife, and with a thrust, such as only the desperation of 

 a dying man can render possible, disemboweled the terrible 

 creature, opening his abdomen almost its entire length. He 

 staggered, fell, rolled a little way down the hill and expired. 

 Then, weakened as I was from pain and loss of blood, I 

 swooned away. Another lapse of time, of the length of 



