THE BEAR WAS HANDICAPPED. 69 



went over bushes, logs, stumps, and even small trees 

 in their haste. Brown fell over a bush and lost the 

 shot-gun, but was in too great a hurry to pick it up, 

 and on he went, shouting at the top of his voice. The 

 noise was closer now, and appeared to be a cross be- 

 tween the roar of an African lion and the bellow of an 

 enraged bull. Then the bear came in sight. He was 

 going down the canon as fast as the big fifty-pound 

 trap fastened to his leg would let him. The long 

 chain was fastened to a twenty-five-foot pole, and 

 this caught in the rocks and bushes, detaining bruin 

 in his frantic efforts to get away from his pursuers. 



" Shoot him, Professor, shoot him !" yelled Brown. 



At the sound of his voice the bear stopped and 

 looked back. He now tried to get the trap from his 

 foot by beating it with his paws and biting it until 

 his mouth was bloody and his teeth broken. 



A ball from the rifle knocked the bear down, but 

 he was up in an instant and was going down the canon 

 faster than ever. Another ball sent him to grass 

 again, but he would not stay down, and then a third 

 ball knocked him over so hard that he could not get 

 up. He now went through a series of wild contor- 

 tions, rolling and tumbling, roaring and bellowing 

 in a most terrible manner. He had received his 

 death- wound and Dyche let him alone to die, which 

 took about fifteen minutes. Then the naturalists 

 shook hands, executed their favourite war-dance, and 

 did numerous seemingly foolish things with which 

 all hunters can sympathise. Their victim was meas- 

 ured and skinned and left where he fell until morning, 

 for no animal would touch a dead bear. 



