124 



RECREATION. 



all the world, the leader of many a herd, 

 the victor of many a fierce encounter, fell 

 on his side and died. 



Slowly and thoughtfully Winton removed 

 his sombrero in reverence for the brute 

 king who had once reigned supreme over 

 this wide expanse. Then, with a kind word 

 and a pat, he urged his tired pony once 

 more onward, while over that barren waste 

 settled the shroud of night. 



Carl A. Leasenfeld, New York City. 



GOOD WORK IN THE PHILIPPINES. 



When I was in the Philippines with an 

 American rancher, I was out hunting, in 

 the mountains of Banquet. We camped 

 along the creek, and every day while sit- 

 ting around camp, we saw natives passing 

 along the trail with bulls loaded with nets, 

 each native leading a bunch of dogs. Later 

 in the day we heard the parties high in the 

 hills, whooping and yelping, and dogs 

 barking. We concluded that those natives 

 were chasing deer into their nets. One 

 night we were talking about game laws in 

 the islands prohibiting the use of dogs and 

 nets, and such other means of hunting 

 deer. Mr. M., my friend, suggested going 

 up in the hills the next day before the 

 natives should pass and witnessing the 

 hunt ; and if we should get a chance, kill- 

 ing the dogs and destroying the nets. The 

 next morning we were up early and picked 

 a place so we could see ioo yards or so 

 around us. In about 2 hours the leading 

 dogs were a short distance from us. Mr. 

 M. said to me, - 



"Take good aim and kill all the. curs you 

 can." • 



I was more anxious for the dogs to 

 come, than if I had been waiting for the 

 largest buck. We opened fire and succeed- 

 ed in killing 3 dogs, and crippling 2 more; 

 but I thought I should die laughing to see 

 the curs stampede. Not another sound was 

 heard from either natives or dogs. We 

 went to the next hill, and ran right in their 

 net but nothing was in it. Perhaps we 

 saved a deer or a boar. After cutting the 

 nets, we returned to camp, satisfied with 

 the day's work. 



John N. Bryan, Bakersfield, Cal. 



Good ! I wish every man who finds a 

 dog running a deer, in this or any other 

 country, would kill the dog; and some of 

 the dog owners deserve killing, too. 



— Editor. 



ENRIGHT'S BEAR. 

 C. F. 



Near the top of Merrit mountain, on the 

 Idaho-Nevada State line, Mike Enright, 

 who weighs 240 pounds and has fully as 

 many friends, had driven his 4 little stakes 

 and was doing his assessment work. He 



usually rode to and from his claim, as it 

 was some distance from his cabin. 



One eventful dav he took his Winchester 

 across his saddle and started for his pros- 

 pect, intending to do a little hunting on the 

 way. Within easy walking distance of his 

 claim he dismounted and picketed his horse 

 with a goodly length of rope. Standing his 

 rifle near, he rambled up the hill until he 

 came face to face with a huge bear, evi- 

 dently eating berries. Mike didn't ponder 

 a second, but started down hill at his best 

 gait, grasped his gun, vaulted into the sad- 

 dle, and, digging his heels into the horse, 

 started for home. He probably would 

 have reached it in good season if he had 

 not forgotten to pull up his picket pin. As 

 it was, he continued his journey some little 

 distance after the horse stopped. 



When Mike opened his eyes there was no 

 bear in sight, only his horse feeding close 

 by, still fast to the rope, and the rifle 50 

 feet farther down the hill. He gathered 

 himself together and started homeward, 

 trying to remember how it all happened. 

 Suddenly he saw, peering through the wil- 

 lows beside the trail, another bear. To 

 prove to himself he was still a hunter he 

 opened fire and made things smoke for a 

 few seconds. Instead of the growl and 

 tearing of brush he expected to hear came 

 the awful bray of a burro which another 

 prospector had staked in the brush for the 

 night. It was badly wounded, but Mike 

 nursed it back to health, and it may still be 

 seen on the range with the wild horses, 

 where it is known to the punchers as En- 

 right's bear. 



A TREE BEAR. 



One morning, on going to a bear trap 

 where I expected to catch a big grizzly, I 

 found the trap and a good sized clog gone. 

 It was no trouble to find the trail. Small 

 trees had been torn out of the ground, 

 dirt thrown about, and Cain raised gener- 

 ally. The bear had gone through a small 

 opening, and, by marks in the light snow, 

 I could see he had swung the clog clear 

 around him, with only the end touching the 

 ground. 



I had just made up my mind for a long 

 tramp trailing him, when I came on the 

 trap and clog, with the little toe of his 

 left forefoot in the trap. The bear had left 

 on a slow walk and, I think, looking back 

 over first one shoulder and then the other, 

 and gritting his teeth. He was, no doubt, 

 in a nasty temper, and would have jumped 

 on anything he saw move. 



I took the trap on the horse in front of 

 me and started for camp. The grizzly had 

 taken the same course, so I was on the 

 lookout for him. I had not gone far be- 

 fore I saw, in a small opening, 100 yards 

 away, my grizzly standing, with only his 





