IS8 THE WILDERNESS HUNTER. 



his balance, giving me a beautiful shot, as he 

 stood sideways to me ; the bullet struck be- 

 tween the eye and ear, and he fell as if hit 

 with a pole axe. 



Immediately the Indian began jumping 

 about the body, uttering wild yells, his usually 

 impassive face lit up with excitement, while 

 the hunter and I stood at rest, leaning on our 

 rifles and laughing. It was a strange scene, 

 the dead bear lying in the shade of the giant 

 hemlocks, while the fantastic-looking savage 

 danced round him with shrill whoops, and the 

 tall frontiersman looked quietly on. 



Our prize was a large black bear, with two 

 curious brown streaks down his back, one on 

 each side the spine. We skinned him and 

 camped by the carcass, as it was growing 

 late. To take the chill off the evening air 

 we built a huge fire, the logs roaring and 

 crackling. To one side of it we made our 

 beds — of balsam and hemlock boughs ; we 

 did not build a brush lean-to, because the 

 night seemed likely to be clear. Then we 

 supped on sugarless tea, frying-pan bread, 

 and quantities of bear meat, fried or roasted 

 ■ — and how very good it tasted only those 

 know who have gone through much hardship 

 and some little hunger, and have worked 

 violently for several days without flesh food. 

 After eating our fill we stretched ourselves 

 around the fire ; the leaping sheets of flame 

 lit the tree-trunks round about, causing them 

 to start out against the cavernous blackness 

 beyond, and reddened the interlacing branches 

 that formed a canopy overhead. The Indian 

 sat on his haunches, gazing steadily and 



