With Gun p Rod in Canada 



to climb and the time I got my legs over the branches 

 is a very short and hazy period in my life. I have a 

 distinct recollection, however, as I pulled myself safely 

 up into the branches, of seeing the bear in the brook 

 at the foot of the tree just scrambling upright. The left 

 half of my hunting-shirt was torn completely off, and 

 my upper left arm was burning and bleeding badly. I do 

 not know to this day whether the bear had jumped and 

 made a slash at me with his paw, or whether my shirt 

 and arm were torn as I climbed into the tree. Evidently 

 the bear had jumped, and striking on the edge of the 

 bank when he came down, had rolled over into the water. 



Naturally wishing to get assistance from Dave, I 

 yelled " Bear !" at the top of my lungs. He came 

 running through the bushes with a can in his hand. 

 It being a great country for bees and wild honey, he 

 thought I had yelled " Bees !" and was coming to get 

 the honey. Catching sight of me in the tree and the 

 bear beneath it at almost the same instant, he made tracks 

 for his gun, touching only the high spots. It is a well- 

 known fact among hunters that the much-touted Eastern 

 champion sprinters really do not hold the world's records. 

 The only way that a man can be made to run fast is to 

 have a grizzly chase him. The bear started after Dave, 

 but by shaking the limbs and hollering I succeeded in 

 attracting his attention to such an extent that he decided 

 not to leave the sure thing up the tree for the chimerical 

 and flighty Mormon. Besides, I was in good flesh, 

 bleeding profusely, and David was quite scrawny. 



In a couple of minutes the bear and I heard a slight 

 crackling in the bushes, toward which we immediately 

 turned our heads, only to be startled by the sharp crack 

 of a 45-70 and a blinding flash. The bear grunted and 

 started straight for the flash. Again I shouted and 

 shook the branches while David did a semicircular sprint. 



9 6 



