Bear-Hunting in the South, 73 



growing warmer. Suddenly they all dashed into the cane, when, 

 whew ! — with a snort and crash through the cane, as if all the fiends 

 had broken loose from Tartarus, the bear was started from his lair. 

 With a wild yell, we all followed, pell-mell, in pursuit. For a mile 

 or more the bear seemed to gain upon his pursuers ; but, like a relent- 

 less fate, the fierce pack stuck to his heels, while the hunters were 

 slowly cutting their way through the cane. Old Asa led the way, 

 with that intuition which belongs to the practiced woodsman and 

 aids him in avoiding the heaviest canebrakes. 



Reaching a boggy bayou, we paused to listen for the pack. The 

 baying of dogs underneath the heavy cane cannot be heard at a 

 great distance ; and, as we halted on our horses, we could hear no 

 sound but the melancholy soughing of the winds through the lonely 

 cypress. Old Asa. leaped from his horse, and, telling us to keep 

 silent, knelt and placed his ear close to the ground. For a few 

 moments the silence was almost painful. Then springing to his feet, 

 he exclaimed : 



"All right, boys! The b'ar has turned toward camp; I heard 

 them distinctly ; they are fighting very close." 



" How will we cross the bayou ? " asked Rogers. " It would bog 

 a saddle-blanket here." 



"Follow me, young un," said old Asa, "and I'll l'arn you what 

 your school-master never did — how to cross a boggy bayou." 



Then proceeding up the bayou, he selected a spot where the 

 cypress-knees were thickest, and led the way safely across ; then 

 pushing rapidly forward, flanking the canebrake and keeping to the 

 open woods, after a detour of a mile we were again in hearing of the 

 pack. 



" He has turned back ! " shouted old Asa. " Scatter out across 

 the opening and some of us will get a shot ! " 



We promptly obeyed the order, and soon heard them coming, 

 crashing madly through the canebrake. Presently out jumped 

 the bear near Major Duncan's stand, with the dogs pressing him 

 like a legion of furies. As the major attempted to shoot, his horse 

 wheeled, and before he could turn, the bear had seen him and 

 turned back into the cane, preferring a score of dogs to one hunter; 

 going farther down the cane, he again burst into the opening and 

 crossed close to Rogers, who had dismounted and was standing by 



