AN UNINVITED GUEST. 



STANLEY WATERLOO. 



We were out after grizzly, Tom Long 

 and I, and we intended to have 2 at least, 

 for each wanted a skin to exhibit in future- 

 years as undeniable evidence of his prow- 

 ess. It was to secure these trophies that 

 we had come from the East to Montana, 

 armed with expensive and deadly rifles 

 and with ammunition enough to carry on 

 a general engagement with a w T hole drove 

 of bears should occasion arise. We had 

 secured the services of the best guide 

 to be had, an old hunter named Jim Hol- 

 den, and we were on the hills in late Oc- 

 tober and in a region where, we were as- 

 sured by Jim, we should find bear. We 

 had already seen a black one, and had 

 blazed away at it as it disappeared in the 

 scrub, but without apparent effect. 



We had set up our tent close to the edge 

 of a slight bluff descending perpendicu- 

 larly about 15 feet, at the foot of which 

 was a hollow where water had gathered 

 over an area of perhaps an acre. Consider- 

 able vegetation surrounded this miniature 

 lake, though- the water, at the time of our 

 visit, was not more than 2 feet in depth at 

 its deepest place, which was close to the 

 little bluff. The lake, or rather pond, was 

 a decided convenience to us, and we 

 camped close to the bluff with regard to 

 ease in letting down a pail to get water 

 for cooking purposes. We were there to 

 stay until we found bear. We were sup- 

 plied to the queen's taste ; a native of the 

 valley, with 2 burros, having brought up 

 our traps and much canned food and then 

 departed. 



Supper was over, our pipes w r ere lit, 

 and Tom and I talked wisely and well of 

 bear. We hadn't talked of anything else 

 for days. We talked of means and meth- 

 ods and of what we would do in an emer- 

 gency. I noticed that old Jim smiled oc- 

 casionally as he listened, but any contempt, 

 covert or expressed, on Jim's past could 

 not affect either Tom or me. We knew our 

 business. We'd never seen a wild grizzly, 

 either of us,, but that didn't matter. We 

 had shot almost everything else in our 

 time and felt that we should give a good 

 account of ourselves under any possible 

 conditions. Tom waxed grandiloquent and 

 was disposed to quiz our guide. 



"I'll tell you what it is, Jim," said he, 

 "there^s been a lot of humbug about the 

 danger attending a meeting with your cin- 

 namon and your silvertips and all the 

 other big bears out here, and about big 

 fights of which you fellows blow so much. 

 You hunters have formed a sort of pool 

 for lying about bears, each one af you 



standing by the other. That's the size of 

 it. I don't believe a grizzly ever tackled 

 a man unless the grizzly was cornered or 

 too badly hurt to get away. It's all rot ; 

 you're a lot of bragging Ananiases !" and 

 he threw a cracker at Jim, who chuckled 

 rather grimly as he dodged. 



"You'll know more about bear in a day 

 or 2," he said. 



"Will I?" said Tom, "oh, will I? Why, 

 man, it's a dead cinch on a bear when 

 you've got a good repeater. You could 

 kill an elephant with such a gun. It's only 

 a matter of keeping cool. You can't help 

 pumping him so full of lead before he gets 

 to you that he's a dead bear. They're 

 lumbering brutes anyhow. Why, I believe 

 I could murder one of them with this. 

 I'd run around him and ram the point 

 into his cervical vertebrae" ; and Tom 

 flourished an awful hunting knife, a foot 

 in length and absolutely new. 



Jim only chuckled again, while I joined 

 in with Tom to tell how easy it would be 

 to kill a grizzly, even with a club, if one 

 would keep moderately cool ; but, finally, 

 tired of the chaffing, we decided to turn in. 



Old Jim simply spread his blankets and 

 crawled in between them, but Tom and I 

 scorned such ancient devices for comfort 

 in the mountains. We knew the night 

 would be cold, so we got out some quarter 

 inch rope from our pack, spread out our 

 blankets, rolled ourselves up in them and 

 then lashed them about us as old Jim 

 lashed the loads on the burros. We said 

 we were mighty certain then that we should 

 not kick the covers off during the night 

 and wake with cold backs, cold feet, rheu- 

 matism, etc. We certainly did sleep warm. 

 We had had a hard working day of it, and 

 within 10 minutes from the time we lay 

 down I was contrasting the volume and 

 quantity of my companion's varying snores. 

 In another 10 minutes I was asleep myself. 



I was awakened by the most blood-curd- 

 ling yell it had ever been my lot to hear. 

 No ! "blood-curdling" doesn't describe it ! 

 It was blood-solidifying ! I lifted my 

 head, only to see old Jim dive under the 

 edge of the canvas farthest from the en- 

 trance and there disappear, and to see Tom 

 flopping about like a beheaded chicken. It 

 was he who had emitted that yell. I 

 couldn't understand it. I turned toward 

 the entrance. A head had been thrust 

 through, a head which seemed to me as big 

 as a barrel. It w 7 as that of a grizzly ! Then 

 I yelled myself. 



"Woof !" 



There was no time for fooling with the 



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