ON A CATTLE-RANGE 301 



tridges, and one of the boys along with me who had 

 tempted fortune by bringing two skinning-knives in 

 his belt. But the demon of mischief was for the 

 moment satisfied, and no further untoward mis- 

 chance occurred. The bear had pursued his leisurely 

 way down the gulch, was duly discovered, approached, 

 killed and skinned in orthodox fashion. He proved 

 to be a two-year-old, light- coloured range grizzly, 

 with fairly good fur and very fat. 



Thereby hangs the tale of the stampede. I took 

 the bearskin; the boys took the fat, and plentifully 

 besmeared therewith the leather riding overalls, or 

 shaps, that all smart cow-punchers delight to wear. 

 From the moment of the advent of this plentiful 

 supply of bear's grease in camp, both horses and 

 cattle in our vicinity began to display all kinds of 

 eccentricities. There is nothing that disturbs both 

 equine and bovine equanimity so much as the smell 

 of bear. We might, of course, have thought of this 

 beforehand, but, as a matter of fact, nobody did 

 think of it ; nor do I suppose that it would have 

 made much difference either to the fate of the bear 

 or the use made of his carcass had we anticipated 

 results. But both the horses and the beef herd 

 became uneasy in their minds. The horse- wrangler's 

 language became more unfit for publication, if pos- 

 sible, than before, as his difficulties in bringing the 

 horses up to the waggon daily increased. The whole 

 camp reeked of bear's grease. As the boys on night- 

 herd gently rode on the windward side of the beef 

 herd, the balmy smell of bear's fat from their riding 

 shaps was wafted to hundreds of wet bovine nostrils, 

 and gradually, but surely, undermined the nervous 

 systems of the cattle. 



