Volume XVII. 



RECREATION 



DECEMBER, 1902. 

 G. 0. SHIELDS (COQUINA,) Editor and Manager 



Number 6, 



THE LIFE STORY OF A GRIZZLY. 



H. N. BEECHER. 



Many years ago, over near Alma, 

 Colorado, where the wagon road 

 crosses Hoosier pass, we had a lovely 

 home, and our cub life was a happy 

 one. In those days there was no 

 Alma nor other mining camp, and 

 Hoosier pass had not yet come to 

 pass. We had nothing to do but 

 romp all day in the sunshine, eat ber- 

 ries along the mountain streams, or 

 feast on trout, deer or antelope as we 

 might wish, free from care and fear. 

 Our days chased one another into 

 weeks, the weeks glided into months, 

 and a year came as peacefully as the 

 little stream creeping down the moun- 

 cain side. 



The little mountain stream does 

 not stay little, and it does not 

 always creep, for down at the other 

 end of the trail there is a mighty 

 river. Only a few miners came at 

 first, some in wagons, others on 

 horseback, and a few on foot, leading 

 burros with pack outfits. Then came 

 the big freight teams, 4's, 6's and 8's, 

 with their wagons and trail wagons, 

 big loads of mining machinery and 

 all kinds of merchandise, for they 

 had found gold in our home and we 

 had to move. 



Just a little back into the hills we 

 went at first, but still they came. 

 They carried rifles, and some were 

 after bears ; for we stampeded the 

 pack outfits, and the stupid burros 

 would not go over our trails. After 

 we had stampeded a few pack trains 

 and dumped a few thousand dollars' 

 worth of truck down the gulches, 

 they got after us so hot we had to 

 move again. 



That time father, mother, brothers 

 and sisters, with a lot of uncles, aunts 

 and cousins, said good-bye to the 

 good old times and trailed over on 

 Black mountain. There the ranch- 

 men and cattlemen complained be- 

 cause we killed a steer for breakfast 

 or picked a young colt when berries 

 were scarce. It kept us busy to get 

 a living and save our hides. 



When I was not much more than 

 a 2-year-old they caught Mother in a 

 big steel trap. Oh ! it was terrible ! 

 The impression it made on my mind 

 is there yet, and has saved me from 

 a like fate ; for while yet in the awful 

 trap Mother remembered us and 

 warned us about traps, showing us 

 how she had been caught. Then we 

 went to find Father, but before he 

 could get there they had shot Mother 

 and taken her away. Then and there I 

 dropped my little cub heart, and in its 

 place came something I can not de- 

 scribe. The sun did not seem to 

 shine, the ripest berries did not taste 

 good, the water at the best springs 

 seemed muddy. 



The days went on into weeks and 

 the weeks into months, but the years 

 did not come peacefully any more, 

 and they came faster. The little 

 mountain stream was becoming a 

 mighty river. All those years I was 

 growing bigger and stronger and 

 uglier, and was hunting for some- 

 thing ; I could not have told, myself, 

 what it was, but I knew when it came. 

 One day that Something was out 

 hunting bear ! I killed him. Wheth- 

 er it was the one who had trapped 

 Mother I could not tell. It was a 



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