392 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS. 
whirling round and round in his furious efforts to release 
himself, I soon had the satisfaction of finding myself and 
horse twisted up in a net that would have defied the strength 
of Samson to have burst. The pleasure of this predicament 
was not a little increased, by the sight of the bear rushing 
past at a few feet distance, with the whole pack biting at his 
heels. 
Alas for my prowess! in what a helpless case was I. 
The moment my horse saw the bear, he uttered a wild 
neigh—it was the first one he had ever faced—and backed 
with such ungovernable terror and strength, that I was 
almost torn to pieces by the vines, and choked in the bar- 
gain. However, at the expense of my coat sleeve, which 
was torn out at the arm-hole, my bleeding right arm was 
freed from the infernal mesh, when a few desperate strokes 
of my bowie-knife freed us from our desperate thraldom. 
Now came, from near at hand, the deafening clamor of 
baying, of shrieks, and hoarse growling, which told that 
the bear had stopped to fight the dogs. Now is the chance 
for the coveted shot, and it required no spur to urge my 
horse in that direction. I commenced hewing my way 
towards the scene, which seemed to be at the foot of a 
large tree. I heard the shouts of my friends, who seemed 
to be urging their way towards the same point. At about 
the same moment two of us burst our way through the wall 
of cane into the open space, about twenty feet in circum- 
ference, that had been beaten down by the weight of the 
enormous bear, during the battle. And such a scene as it 
was! The bear, hearing our approach, had made an attempt 
to climb the tree, and the dogs, encouraged by the same 
sounds, had made a simultaneous rush, and were literally 
all over his huge carcass, having hold of him on every side ; 
our guns were instantly presented, but we feared to fire lest 
we should kill the dogs. 
While we stood thus hesitating, and the bear was tossing 
