MY FIRST CAMPING TRIP. 



\Oy 



side, tramped along abandoned lumber 

 roads, through wild grass to our shoul- 

 ders, and by mid-afternoon ate our dinner 

 on the bank of Paul stream with a feeling 

 of conquest and self sufficiency that might 

 well be envied. 



The darkening slopes of hills and moun- 

 tains warned us to return. Expecting to 

 move our camp to that place the following 

 day, we set out. It was raspberry time, 

 and now and then we passed through open 

 places where bushes heavy with berries 

 grew in profusion. Paths made by some 

 clumsy animal passed through them at all 

 angles, and the scent of crushed berries 

 filled the air. "Bears eat 'rosberries,' " said 

 Tobias; "perhaps w r e'll see one." 



As we drew near our camp we were 

 strangely silent. Perhaps some good angel 

 sent us a presentiment of the danger ahead. 

 What the others thought, I know not, but I 

 was thinking of the noises of the previous 

 night and of the crushed raspberries. How 

 easy it would be for a bear to take posses- 

 sion of our camp and provisions. A night 

 without supper and no breakfast ! How 

 hungry I felt! And then, suppose Bruin 

 should prefer live meat to canned beans? 

 Heaven forbid ! 



We emerged from the woods. O ye 

 gods ! There he was, his forepaws on the 

 window sill, his huge head motionless, 

 framed in the window like a picture of 

 Satan. I handed the gun to Fritz. In his 

 nerve and aim I had confidence. I opened 

 my knife for use as a shell extractor and 

 took a handful of cartridges. "We must be 

 ready for a quick load," I muttered. For 

 better observation, Tob ; as mounted the roof 

 of an old stable near which we stood. 



"Shoot steady and quick," I whispered, 

 as Fritz swung the gun to his shoulder. 

 Dead silence followed the sharp crack. In 

 breathless anxiety we loaded and fired 

 again. That time the bear moved; his 

 head swayed from right to left and back. 



"They always do that before they 

 charge," whispered Fritz. "Let's give him 

 another." And so we did; but no sign, no 



charge. I heard only a piece of loosened 

 bark fall harmlessly from the roof of the 

 old stable to my feet. On the ridge pole 

 sat Tobias, doing service as a spectator. 

 Suddenly he leaped to his feet and gave a 

 yell of unbounded joy. 



"Boys, it's only my old white-toed stock- 

 ings that I hung in the window this morn- 

 ing to dry." 



But his emotion was disastrous. The 

 shaky old roof swayed, creaked, and broke. 

 Down through the rotten boards went To- 

 bias, his white face eclipsed by a cloud of 

 flying shingles and dust. We dug him out, 

 but reproached him not. We were too 

 thankful that we had escaped "what might 

 have been." 



That night, when we went to the brook 

 for water, we found in the sand one large 

 track that had not been there in the morn- 

 ing. It had not been made by us, for we 

 could not make another like it with the 

 hand. Truly old Bruin had visited our 

 camp in our absence, but preferred his diet 

 of raspberries to the uncertainties of can- 

 ned beans and young boys. 



Do not scoff at my bear story. Most 

 men have a bear story, but are they all as 

 creditable to their chief actors as this of 

 mine? Did I not act as a brave man 

 should before a real bear? What matter, 

 then, if after the trial was passed, the dan- 

 ger was found to be unreal? 



One other fact I beg you to remember, 

 the credit of which belongs wholly to Fritz. 

 The 3 shots struck within a 2-inch circle 

 between the eyes of the false-faced bear. 

 Fritz fired from a distance of about 15 rods. 

 You may be sure we were no nearer. 



That night was our last in the woods. 

 As the shadows of the mountains grew 

 longer, and the sun went down in all the 

 glories of a summer night, we ceased talk- 

 ing and listened to the melancholy evening 

 song of the white throated sparrow. It 

 made us homesick, too. We decided to 

 move on the morrow and finish our outing 

 at a small pond nearer civilization and 

 farther from the haunts of bears. 



Sniffles — We are gradually doing with- 

 out things. We now have horseless car- 

 riages, smokeless powder, wireless teleg- 

 raphy, and 



Biffles — Yes, and sunless springs, rain- 

 less summers and snowless winters. — New 

 York Herald. 



