108 THE OLD DOG BEAR AND HIS WIFE. 



Another bear adventure is worth recording. One day 

 when out from the hut I spied two bears on the long 

 sloping hill which leads down to the Crags ; I had a long 

 and exciting stalk down to them, and got to the edge 

 of the shola on the hill above which they were feeding 

 about 150 yards away; I could not get closer to them, 

 so I stood watching them from behind a tree for a long 

 time hoping they would approach nearer. How busy they 

 were, turning up the stones for ants and digging under the 

 tufts of grass for grubs — so comical in all their movements — 

 evidently an old dog bear and his wife. After waiting until 

 my patience was nearly exhausted and the sun nearly setting, 

 we decided to go round the hill and get above them. We 

 soon got round and I was pleased to find the wind blowing 

 strong in our faces as we crept up the hill ; on looking over 

 the crest there was the back of Mr. B. not forty yards from 

 us, a step forward exposed the whole of his broadside. He 

 was busy digging, and a little below him, there was Mrs. B. 

 looking hard at me. There was not a moment to lose, so 

 with a steady aim, I planted a projectile behind his shoulder. 

 He jumped up into the air, bit at the wound, and then rushed 

 furiously at Mrs. B., she like a proper spirited female imme- 

 diately resented such untoward treatment, and the row the 

 two made as they tumbled over one another was something 

 tremendous. I took a pot shot at the black mass as it rolled 

 about, but the rifle missed fire, the report of the cap, however, 

 made them look up, they separated, and bolted. I ran down 

 the hill after them and put another ball into Mr. B. as he 

 stood up for an instant with his back towards me. His 

 progress down the hill was now most absurd, all the time 

 singing out lustily, and after running for a iew paces. 



