SOME BEAR STORIES. 



By W. F. Nichols. 



ROUTT County, Colorado, the 

 north-west county of the State, 

 is the finest locality in the 

 Rockies for all kinds of game. Of 

 the bear family we have four differ- 

 ent kinds, the silver tip, or grizzly, 

 the cinnamon, the black, and the 

 small brown or hog bear. The 

 black and the hog bear are the 

 more plentiful and are easier killed 

 than either the cinnamon or sil- 

 ver tip. On the main range east 

 of Bear river, from Egeria Park to 

 the county line, north of Hahn's 

 Peak, a fair hunter may, during the 

 fall months, average a bear for each 

 week if acquainted with the hunting 

 grounds. Some of our local sports- 

 men have done even better. 



There have been a great many nar- 

 row escapes from bears in this local- 

 ity, besides others not so narrow. 

 The first, close call 1 remember was 

 north of town about three miles. A 

 Mr. Bennett, one of the old settlers, 

 concluded he must have a bear robe 

 of his own killing, so, arming him- 

 self with a 45-70 Sharp's rifle, and a 

 No. 6 Newhouse trap, he traveled up 

 Soda creek until he found fresh 

 signs. Then he killed a bait, set his 

 trap and went back to town to await 

 results. 



Next morning he was out early, 

 and on nearing the spot where he 

 had left his trap found it had disap- 

 peared. He looked about until he 

 found the trail, he followed it and 

 had gone but a short distance when 

 he heard a warning growl just in 

 front of him, and at the same time 

 saw an enormous silver tip bear 

 rise from behind a log and start for 

 him, rattling the trap and chain over 

 the logs as if they were not in his 



way in the least. Mr. Bennett took 

 the back track, nor did he stop run- 

 ning until he reached town. 



He would neither go to kill the 

 bear or show others and, of course, 

 lost his trap. He has given up the 

 idea of a bear robe, especially a sil- 

 ver tip. The next trouble was about 

 two miles south of the springs. W. 

 H. Dever had gone out to kill a deer. 

 He had traveled about a mile from 

 his cabin, when he saw a large grizzly 

 on the side of the mountain above 

 him. Mr. D. was carrying a 40-60 

 Winchester that had got wet and the 

 firing-pin was rusted. He fired and 

 wounded the bear, which turned 

 and started at him. He kept snap- 

 ping and firing, alternately, until the 

 bear was within about eight or ten 

 yards of him, when he (Dever) con- 

 cluded to take a walk — that is, to go 

 home without trying to get meat. 

 He had gone but a short distance 

 when he noticed the bear was travel- 

 ing about the same route he was and 

 was making rather better time, al- 

 though badly wounded. He was 

 then within ten feet of Dever, who 

 was fully aware of the fact that some- 

 thing must be done besides running; 

 so, throwing his gun under his arm 

 he fired back, at random, and had 

 the good luck to hit the monster in 

 the head, killing him instantly. In 

 falling the bear turned a somersault, 

 his hind feet striking Dever a slight 

 tap behind. On examining his gun 

 Dever found that the cartridge that 

 killed the bear was his last. 



That day's hunt taught him not 

 to go again until he had thoroughly 

 examined his gun and ammuni- 

 tion and put them both in perfect 

 order. 



€» 



A naturalist tells us that a snipe has a nerve run- 

 ning clear down to the end of his bill. So has the 

 plumber. How wonderful are Nature's works ! — Ex- 

 change. 



