QQ RAMBLES AFTER SPORT. 



chances were lie would come at me, and he would be sure 

 to reach me before I could climb a tree. There was no 

 help for it ; I must take a shot at him, and then run for 

 it. I raised my rifle three times, and three times it came 

 down again. Suddenly I pitched it forward desperately, 

 held my breath, and pulled the trigger instantly. I 

 heard the bullet go smack into something, and then I 

 ran — yes, ignominiously ran ! Safe up a tree I looked 

 for the bear; why, confound it, there he was yet ! Any- 

 how, I can give him another bullet from here ; — wait a 

 bit, he does not seem to move ; he's dead, by jingo ! 

 Perhaps the rascal is only playing coon though. 



I wait another ten minutes, and he does not move ; 

 he must be dead. I slip down the tree, and creep to 

 where the dog is yelling and howling at the sound of the 

 rifle ; I loose him ; he bays once or twice at a respectful 

 distance from the enemy, then suddenly rushes in, seizes 

 him by the back of the neck, and worries him. No 

 doubt noiv he's dead; the mighty monarch of the 

 woods would brook no such insult as that; and, after 

 giving one wild unearthly yell of triumph, I proceeded to 

 examine my prize. 'J^o my astonishment, I found my 

 bullet had gone clean through both shoulders, breaking 

 the spine in its course, with rather an upward tendency, 

 and I could not have made a better shot if I had aimed 

 for a week. 1 found the bullet embedded in the bark 

 of a large fir tree, and it was marvellous the force that 

 bullet must have had ; yet with four and half drachms of 

 powder, I never felt any unpleasant recoil from the 

 gun. 



I wish I could have weighed this gentleman, as he must 

 have been as heavy as a good-sized ox. One I saw in a 

 cage at ^Yoodward's, San Francisco, weighed, I was told. 



