THE BLACK BEAR. 55 
SaturpAy, Dec. 16, 1893: I hunted the large ‘ hammock ” 
where we lost the big bear yesterday. Tom Murray went with me, 
and Pat and Gale looked after the horses and dogs. Trip found a 
fresh trail of an old she bear and ran south with the other dogs for 
several miles before they finally ‘‘ bayed” her in a thick, high scrub. 
I could hear her growling and snapping at the dogs; but could not 
see her, and the next moment she was off again with the dogs at her 
heels. She ran south a mile or more; but we took the open beach, 
and, riding fast, headed her in a rather open bit of country with low 
palmetto scrub not far north of Cape Canaveral. Tom Murray rode 
in ahead of her, and she turned and passed within twenty feet of me, 
and I dropped her stone dead with a quartering shoulder shot. She 
was the first and only bear that I have ever killed with a single bul- 
let so dead as to not even kick after being hit. She was a very old 
female, although rather small, probably weighing less than three 
