Bear Hunting on the Alaska Peninsula 



was not enough to hold these bears, and this one 

 got safely away. 



It was a dreary camp that night, for I had 

 missed an easy shot without a shadow of excuse. 

 We pitched our small tent at the extreme edge of 

 the marsh behind a large mass of rocks. I turned 

 in thoroughly depressed, but awoke the next morn- 

 ing refreshed, and determined to retrieve my care- 

 less shooting of the day before. A bad surf break- 

 ing on the beach prevented our going further up 

 the bay in our baidarkas, as we had planned to 

 do. We loafed in the sun until evening, while our 

 natives kept constant watch of the great meadow 

 where we had seen the bears the day before. We 

 had just turned in, although at ten o'clock it was 

 still daylight, when one of the natives came run- 

 ning up to say that a bear was in sight, so Blake, 

 with three natives and Stereke, made the stalk. I 

 had a beautiful chance to watch it from the high 

 rocks beside our camp. The men were able to ap- 

 proach to within some fifty yards, and Blake, with 

 his first shot, hit, and with his third killed the bear 

 before it could get into the brush. Stereke, when 

 loosed, acted in a gallant manner, and tackled the 

 bear savagely. 



Unfortunately no measurements were taken, but 

 the bear appeared to be somewhat smaller than the 



