A hunter's life. 345 



My pen is powerless. I will not attempt to j^ivc any- 

 thing; like an adequate description of that period of afflic- 

 tion, as it is easier far to judge of than to describe. 



With returning spring I could see nothing that afforded 

 rae any delight; and I could not think of going to Mie 

 hunting-grounds, as my spirit for sporting was entirely 

 gone; and from that date — January 29th, 1839 — my 

 career as a hunter and a woodsman ended. There was 

 nothing done at hunting that spring ; and during the en- 

 tire summer there was neither bear-meat, venison, nor trout 

 used in my family. It was to me a summer long and 

 gloomy iu the extreme. 



When autumn arrived, and a little snow fell, my third 

 son, James, who was married, and lived four miles west of 

 rae, came to my house, as he was going to Meadow Moun- 

 tain to hunt for bears, and desired some of the family to 

 accompany him to the hunting-grounds. As the rest of 

 my sons were otherwise engaged, I told James that I had 

 been thinking of going myself, as a relief to my feelings, 

 but that I had not sufficient courage to undertake it. He 

 asked me if 1 had become afraid of a bear. I told him 

 that I would accompany him ; when, if we could find one, 

 after I had taken a good look at him, I would tell him 

 more about it. 



Speedily equipping myself, we set out for the Little 

 Crossings and Meadow Mountain. 



We traveled on until, finding ourselves on the hunting- 

 ground, we became more and more cautious, and were 

 looking and listening with the greatest care, when I saw 

 the head of a fine-looking deer, which was peeping round 

 a tree at us. I told James to try to kill her, as that would 

 oe the "mly chance we would have, and the distance was 

 over a hundred steps. He took fair aim at her head, and 

 6red, when off she ran, with one ear hanging down, and 



