Hunting American Big Game 



It was pitch dark, except when the 

 black recesses of the forest seemed to be 

 rent asunder during the vivid lightning. 

 The whole effect was weird and uncanny, 

 and I wished myself back under my soft, 

 warm blankets. I could not well repress 

 thinking of the early admonition of " never 

 go under a tree during a thunder-storm." 

 But what's that ? One swift surge of blood 

 to the heart, an involuntary tightening of 

 the muscles that strongly gripped the rifle. 

 I seemed to feel, rather than see, the pres- 

 ence of three strange objects that appeared 

 to have sprung from the ground under me. 



I had not heard a sound ; not a twig 

 had snapped ; and yet, as I strained my eyes 

 to penetrate the gloom, there, right at my 

 feet, almost touching them, in fact, I made 

 out the indistinct forms of three bears, all 

 standing on their hind legs. Oh, what a 

 chance it was if it had not been so dark ! 

 I could not even see the end of my rifle, 

 but I knew I could hit them, they were 

 so close. But to hit fatally ? Well, there 

 is no use thinking about it now the bears 

 are here. Trust to luck, and shoot ! 



Hardly daring to breathe, I fired. The 

 scuffling on the ground, and the short, sharp 

 snorting, told me I had not missed ; but I 

 could see nothing, and could only hear the 



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