Fo ol Luck, Trout, BearandTragedy 



my way up to the desired vantage point, I cautiously 

 placed a fly just above the edge of the sunken ledge, 

 when I was startled by a squeal that seemed to come 

 from the edge of the forest directly back of me. 



Forgetting for a moment the fly drifting over the 

 water, I turned my head and ye gods, about twenty 

 feet distant stood a black bear cub bawling at the 

 top of his voice : " Maw, come chase this thing 

 away ! " And an angry " Woof " said as plain as day : 

 " I'm coming." Just then I was reminded of the for- 

 gotten fly by a terrific jerk of my rod, and I turned in 

 time to catch a glimpse of an almost black back as a 

 whopper of a fish returned to his lair with my lure. 

 A sharp jerk set the hook. 



Back and forth he raged, sometimes deep among the 

 sunken rocks, sometimes breaking through the water 

 in a shower of diamond spray as he leaped into the air 

 in his mad efforts to dislodge that stinging, biting hook. 

 In the midst of this magnificent battle came a hoarse 

 growl from my forgotten companions, and a hasty 

 glance in their direction showed little John Bear still 

 yelling for blood and Mother Bear coming tearing 

 through the underbrush into the clearing close by the 

 cub, every expression showing fight. On she came like 

 an avalanche and looking just as dangerous. The closer 

 she came the bigger she looked, and when she appeared 

 to me to be about the size of a young house, I cast aside 

 all thoughts of the trout and plunged, creel, pole and 



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