EXPEDITION UP THE GANDER RIVER 93 



little bullet, however, went very near, and splashed the water 

 all over Mr. Bear, who got a dreadful fright, and made off 

 with all possible speed. 



Bob Saunders and I now crossed the river, and found the 

 spot where the wounded bear had entered the timber ; indeed 

 there was no mistaking it, for a trail of blood which looked 

 as if it had been poured out of a tea-kettle led away into the 

 densest bush. There was now a possibility of trouble, so I 

 sent Bob back for the other Mannlicher. The young spruce 

 trees were growing so closely together that in many places 

 we had to crawl on our hands and knees, along the actual 

 paths which the bears themselves had made. It was like 

 hunting a flea in a box of matches. In the worst places, if 

 one stood up, it was not possible to force a way ahead. 

 Consequently we had to be careful, as the bear was pro- 

 bably not dead, and we should not see it at a greater distance 

 than 5 or 6 feet. The blood trail itself showed a firm 

 dark line on the bright yellow green moss, so we easily 

 followed it for about 500 yards ; then we came to a round 

 knoll of soft wet moss, which plainly told its tale. The 

 wounded bear had just been lying here, and we had moved 

 her. There was the imprinted mark of her whole left flank 

 and the bullet exit hole mark, where the blood had flowed 

 freely. The poor beast was hit right through the lungs, and 

 the bullet, a solid one with the nose well filled, had not 

 sufficiently expanded. Immediately the bear had risen to run 

 from us the blood had ceased to flow. I suppose that the 

 cold wet moss must have staunched the wound, for the blood 

 marks ceased. We threshed around for ten minutes or so, 

 could find no further trail, for the soft paw of the plantigrade 

 leaves no spoor on moss, and then sat down to deplore our 

 ill-luck. 



