American Big Game in its Haunts 



miss ended some of the most careless shooting I 

 have ever done. 



This evening we made our camp on the beach on 

 the other side of the bay. I was up frequently dur- 

 ing the night, for bears were constantly moving 

 about on the mountain side just behind our sleep- 

 ing place, but although I could distinctly hear 

 them, the thick brush prevented my getting a shot. 



In this latitude there is practically no night dur- 

 ing the month of June, and I can recall no more en- 

 chanting spot than where we were now camped. 

 Even my hard day's work would not bring sleep, 

 and I lay with my faithful dog at my feet and 

 gazed on the vast mountains about us, their sum- 

 mits capped with snow, while their sides were 

 clothed in the dull velvet browns of last year's 

 herbage, through which the vivid greens of a north- 

 ern summer were rapidly forcing themselves. 



It was after five next morning when we left in 

 our two baidarkas for the extreme head of the bay, 

 where there was another vast meadow. My friend 

 chose to hunt the right side of this marsh, while I 

 took the left. 



On reaching our watching place I settled myself 

 for the day in my fur rug, and soon dozed off to 

 finish my night's rest, while my men took turns 

 with the glasses. About ten o'clock a black bear 



134 



