BEAE SHOOTING IjS^ CALIEOENIA. 



The first bear I ever shot^ or indeed saw, was near Santa 

 Cruz, in tlie Coast Eange Mountains. I happened (I am 

 speaking of some years ago) to be stopping at Santa 

 Cruz, for tlie sake of the quail and deer shooting in the 

 vicinity, and capital sport I had with both. I had been 

 there about two months, and was beginning to wish I 

 had something else to try my hand on, when one evening 

 a farmer rode in on his mustang from his ranch, some 

 miles off, to buy flour, coffee, &c., in the village — I beg 

 pardon, city. In America it is not very difficult to get 

 into conversation, especially if you are a new comer ; so 

 in the course of the evening we got talking together, 

 drinking together, and smoking together, till we were as 

 thick as thieves. Of course, in five minutes he knew 

 why I was at Santa Cruz, how old I was, where I came 

 from — in fact, all my personal history — by the very 

 simple method of asking me outright. Nothing bothers 

 a Yankee more than to refuse to answer his questions. 



" So you air one of them blarmed Britishers that run 

 about a-shooting animals for tjie fun of the thing and 

 darn the expense; but, sir, I tell you, we've got an 

 animal in this yere country that hates a Britisher wus 

 nor pisin, and that^s a grizzly bar.^^ 



" Just the very animal I want to see ; but I don^t 

 know where to find any.^^ 



" "Want to see ^em, does you ! Lor bless you ! come 

 along with me for a for-night, and I guess 1^11 show 



